#i can do it right now if i want to but if i leave it will never be the same
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dissapointu · 2 days ago
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I love your writing 🥰 could you do Arcane characters + finding their s/o packing their bags after a bad arguement, like how they'd react/convince them to stay?
(I love angst)
Omg thank you!! And I love angst too dw-
Jinx
Jinx barges into the room, her wild energy halting when she sees your half-packed bag. Her lips twitch in frustration, and she lets out a nervous laugh.
“Oh, so that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?” she sneers, but her voice wavers. She scratches her arm, pacing erratically. “Fine. Go ahead. Walk out, just like everyone else.”
You catch her biting her lip, her eyes darting to the door, then to you. “No, wait,” she suddenly blurts, sitting on the floor with her knees hugged to her chest. “I didn’t mean that.” Her voice cracks, the manic edge slipping away. “I don’t want you to go. Please. I… I’ll try to do better. Just stay.”
Vi
Vi sees you with your suitcase and freezes, the fight still fresh in her mind. “You’re leaving?” she asks, her voice low, but there’s no hiding the hurt.
You nod without meeting her eyes, and she steps closer, her hands curling into fists. “Look, I know I screwed up, alright? But don’t do this. Don’t give up on us.”
She steps in front of you, her hands reaching for your shoulders. “You mean everything to me. If you walk out that door, I… I don’t know what I’ll do. Please. Let’s talk this out, Firefly.”
Sevika
Sevika leans against the doorframe, her metal arm glinting in the low light. She watches you pack with a clenched jaw, the tension palpable. “So, you’re just gonna leave, huh?”
When you don’t respond, she sighs and steps closer, her boots heavy against the floor. “I know I can be a pain in the ass. I know I said some stupid things, but you don’t just walk out on someone you care about.”
Her voice softens as she places her hand on yours, stopping you mid-fold. “Don’t do this. Stay. I’ll fix it—I swear. Just… don’t leave me.”
Silco
Silco doesn’t raise his voice when he sees you packing. Instead, he stands in the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back.
“So, this is your solution?” he asks, his tone sharp but measured. “Run away instead of facing the problem?”
You snap back, “I need time, Silco.”
He exhales slowly, his composure cracking just enough for you to see the worry in his eyes. “If you walk out that door, you’ll regret it. And so will I.” He steps closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Stay. Let me prove to you that this is worth fighting for.”
Vander
Vander catches you packing and immediately looks defeated. “Ah, c’mon now,” he murmurs, stepping into the room. “Don’t do this.”
His voice is calm but filled with sadness. He sits on the edge of the bed, his large hands resting on his knees. “I know I messed up, but runnin’ away isn’t gonna fix it.”
He looks up at you, his blue eyes pleading. “You’re my heart, love. I can’t let you go without trying to make this right. Stay. We’ll figure it out together.”
Ekko
Ekko bursts in, still fuming from the argument, but his anger dissipates the second he sees you packing. “Wait, what the hell? You’re leaving?”
“I need space, Ekko,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.
He grabs your hand gently, his big brown eyes wide with panic. “No. Don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I… I’m sorry, alright? I’ll do better. Just tell me what you need.”
He lets out a shaky breath, kneeling in front of you. “You’re my everything. Don’t walk out on me now.”
Jayce
Jayce walks in and immediately freezes. “Are you… are you packing?”
You don’t answer, but the guilt on your face says it all. He crosses the room quickly, grabbing your hands. “No. You’re not leaving. I won’t let you.”
“Jayce—”
“No!” he interrupts, his voice breaking. “I know I’ve been a stubborn idiot, but I’ll do anything to make this right. Don’t give up on me. On us.”
Viktor
Viktor stands in the doorway, his cane trembling slightly as he grips it. “You’re leaving?” he asks softly, his voice strained.
“I need time,” you reply, your hands shaking as you pack.
He limps closer, his eyes full of regret. “I know I’ve been difficult. And I know this isn’t easy, but please, don’t leave.”
He places a hand over yours, his touch light but firm. “We can fix this. I need you, more than I can put into words. Don’t go.”
Caitlyn
Caitlyn enters the room and immediately notices the suitcase. Her heart sinks. “You’re leaving?”
When you nod, her composure falters. She moves to stand in front of you, her hands shaking slightly. “I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But walking away won’t solve this.”
She takes your hand, squeezing it tightly. “I love you. More than anything. Please… don’t go.”
Mel Medarda
Mel watches you pack with a heavy expression, her arms crossed. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to leave?”
When you don’t answer, she sighs and steps closer. “I know I said things I shouldn’t have, but leaving won’t fix this. Let me make it right.”
She places a hand on your cheek, her voice soft and full of sincerity. “I love you. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you. Stay.”
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa’s towering figure blocks the doorway as she watches you pack. “You think leaving is the answer?” she asks, her voice low and commanding.
“I need time,” you say quietly.
She steps forward, her presence overwhelming but not unkind. “Time won’t solve anything if you’re not here to face it with me.”
She takes your hand, her grip firm but tender. “You’re mine, and I don’t give up on what’s mine. Stay. We’ll fix this.”
Maddie Nolen
Maddie’s expression crumples when she sees your packed bag. “Wait, what are you doing?”
When you explain, she shakes her head, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “No, no, no. You can’t just leave.”
She rushes over, grabbing your hands. “Please. Don’t go. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. I can’t lose you.”
Lest
Lest’s ears flatten as she catches sight of your packed bag, her tail swishing in agitation. “You’re leaving?”
“I just… need some space,” you mumble, avoiding her gaze.
She steps closer, her golden eyes full of hurt. “I don’t want you to go. You mean everything to me.”
Her claws lightly graze your wrist as she takes your hand gently. “Stay. Let’s work through this together. I’ll do better. I promise.”
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gonkaccino · 3 days ago
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hey hey another thing. Everyone noticed how subdued movie Elphaba is relative to book/musical Elphaba, right? Book Elphaba's whole thing is being loudly independent and making her own bold choices (then getting [metaphorically] pushed down 5 flights of stairs for having the gall to exist). Musical Elphaba is less of a reddit atheist than her book counterpart, but still plenty abrasive and, ultimately, forges her own path (with its own relatively less tragic consequences).
Movie Elphaba? She doesn't choose to go to Shiz. Her father's planning on keeping her tucked away in their family home until the day she dies, where she can't hurt anyone or further embarrass the Thropp name. Morrible's the one who gets her enrolled, fully aware that Elphaba has no choice if she doesn't want to spend the rest of her life stuck at home, only ever leaving to accompany Nessa. This Elphaba doesn't choose to go to school, she doesn't choose to go to the Emerald City, and, really, she doesn't even choose to defy gravity -- there is no alternative, she can't live if she stays with the Wizard, especially not after Morrible's preemptive announcement of her wickedness. Movie Elphaba's trapped by her destiny, walking the path laid out for her. With one crucial exception, of course: Glinda, baby, that's right, the only thing this Elphie's ever chosen for herself, the only thing she's been allowed to choose, is to have Glinda at her side!
This softer, more noticeably scared Elphaba creates the extremely juicy dynamic of visibly relying on Glinda for support. As soon as they become pals, Elphaba's latched onto her, the only person who isn't scared of her magic, the first person to care for Elphaba's well-being. She chooses to befriend Glinda, she chooses to bring Glinda to the Emerald City, she chooses to ask Glinda to defy gravity with her. This is what makes this version of Defying Gravity so delicious: Elphaba's never truly believed in herself! The only reason she ever started was because Glinda was there to encourage her, and now, at this crucial moment, this Elphaba, who has lived her life so terrified of the harm she could cause others, has the confidence to not only risk her own life with a spell she's never tried, but the life of her one and only friend!
And Glinda refuses! And it's totally understandable now! Of course this Glinda would say no -- she's not scared of what could happen to her, she's scared of what will happen to Elphie, and standing there, she gets it. She understands the role she's played in Elphaba's life. Glinda knows Elphaba wouldn't be there, ready to declare war on the Wizard, if Glinda hadn't been by her side the entire time, and she has to refuse. She has to. Elphaba's request isn't come with me, we're stronger together, it's I can't do this without you, I'm not strong enough, and Glinda KNOWS that's not true. The only way she can express this is by sending Elphie off on her own, to straighten her hat and wish her luck. It's the only way Elphie will take flight and finally realize that she's got the power to do anything she wants, if she just tries.
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ham1lton · 20 hours ago
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X MARKS THE SPOT!
pairings: retired f1 drivers x retired f1 legend!yn.
faceclaim: jessica alba.
summary: being the first-ever female f1 world champion was hard enough. writing a tell-all about it, including all the details of your beef with that former driver? let’s just say the track wasn’t the only place things got heated.
warnings: mentions of misogyny. like a lot. so if that is something that makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read!! your comfort comes first <3
author’s note: ignore timeline issues!! this was all inspired by that one anon who said something about yn writing a tell-all. this was written in like three hours. if you liked this, maybe send me an ask? :D
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liked by vogue, jimmyfallon and 2,837,018 others
yourinstagram: it was so fun talking to jimmyfallon about writing my memoir ‘lucky girl syndrome’! i talked about getting the call that i was being signed, getting name dropped in a kdot song (thank you for making me cool to my nephews!) and the legacy i want to leave behind. check it out!!!
view all 298,727 comments
user1: MOTHERRR
user2: omg i’ve already pre-ordered my copy!!
-> user3: i’ve reserved it at my local library 🫡
user4: i hope she spills all the tea. i wanna know exactly who the misogynist motherfuckers are.
user5: she’s the goat female driver idc!! first female championship winner!!
-> user9: during her time in mclaren, jenson was carrying her. but yeah let’s talk about that one rigged championship 😂
user6: she still looks so hot. my first celeb crush.
-> user7: i had pictures of her all over my wall. i think my mom still has them up 😓
user8: worst driver of all time. only there because she looked good in the race suit.
-> user11: if she wasn’t hot, no one would care about her driving.
user10: this was always going to happen when you allowed women into f1. ruined the sport. she was nothing but a distraction on the grid.
-> user12: she was incredible. she clawed her way to a championship when everyone doubted her. she proved that women can do anything. the only distraction are people like you.
user13: please please please tell me she says that her and jenson were a thing. i always used to ship them so bad. the photoshoot for british vogue was imprinted on my thirteen year old brain.
-> user14: ANOTHER JENSONYN SHIPPER!!! baitclaren was my fav mclaren era. y’all can have your twinkclaren!!
-> user15: remember when jenson shut down a misogynistic reporter who tried to imply that yn wasn’t a good driver?? that was his girl frfr!!
user16: i’m so proud of u yn. you’ve been through so much and i’m excited to support you.
*liked by yourinstagram.*
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“SHE’S NOT THAT FAST — SHE JUST GETS LUCKY SOMETIMES. THAT’S ALL IT IS. RIGHT CAR — RIGHT TIME. LUCKY GIRL SYNDROME.” — a senior mclaren engineer.
dedicated to everyone who ever rooted for me. thank you.
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EXCERPT FROM LUCKY GIRL SYNDROME.
by yn yln.
when i signed with mclaren in 2013, i thought i was living my dream.
i was the only female driver on the grid, paired with jenson button—a world champion, a household name, and, to some, a certified heartthrob. they already loved calling him “promiscuous” in the press, and suddenly there i was: the pretty young woman who happened to drive fast. to them, we weren’t drivers—we were a brand. two good-looking people in shiny cars. and that label stuck.
from the start, i wasn’t taken seriously. i’d show up to meetings and realize they’d given me the wrong time—jenson would already be there, halfway through strategising with the team. he always looked uncomfortable when i walked in late, knowing i wasn’t told the same things he was.
“you’re here now,” he’d say, smiling politely, trying to ease the tension. i liked him. he wasn’t the problem. he was respectful, and if anyone made an offhand comment about me, he’d interject with a joke to cut through the awkwardness. but even his kindness couldn’t fix what was fundamentally wrong.
my first podium was a moment i’d worked my entire life for. it was a race where i drove faster than jenson, faster than most of the grid. but the photo they posted of me on the team’s social media wasn’t of me crossing the finish line, or holding my trophy.
it was me in the garage, leaning over the car, my race suit unzipped halfway down. the caption didn’t even mention the podium. it was just… my body. i couldn’t stomach looking through the comments.
i’ll never forget calling my dad that night. he was furious. he asked me why i didn’t make a fuss. why i didn’t storm into the team’s office and demand better treatment. but what he didn’t understand was that it wasn’t that simple. you’re the only woman in a room full of men, and they’re already waiting for you to slip up. waiting for you to show too much emotion, to prove them right when they think women are too “dramatic” to handle the job.
so i kept my head down. i smiled at the cameras, laughed at the jokes, and drove my ass off every weekend. and every time i was faster than jenson, every time i outqualified him or finished ahead, they’d say, “she got lucky.” when he beat me, they’d say, “see? this is why she doesn’t belong here.” it was a game i couldn’t win.
being the first woman on the grid wasn’t just about being fast. it was about being everything they didn’t expect me to be: calm, collected, agreeable. i couldn’t afford to push back because i knew they’d use it against me. so i swallowed it all, every little slight, every dismissive comment, every missed opportunity. i thought if i just kept my head down and drove, eventually, i’d earn their respect.
but now, looking back, i realize… they were never going to respect me. not really. not as a driver. they respected what i did for their brand, for their image. they respected how well i played the part. but as a person, as an athlete? i was just another pretty face to them. nothing more. and that’s what hurt the most.
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r/books
Discussion Thread:
“Lucky Girl Syndrome” by YN YLN: Thoughts, Reactions, and the Drama It’s Stirred Up.
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u/checkeredpast: just finished lucky girl syndrome, and WOW. she did not hold back. calling out mclaren for the way they treated her, the “wrong meeting times” sabotage, and the completely inappropriate podium photo… i can’t believe this stuff actually happened.
u/fastlaneandfurious: the part where she talks about the team using her as a “walking brand strategy” instead of a driver broke my heart. like, they wanted her to be the face of the team but refused to actually treat her like a serious athlete.
u/f1fanfiction: let’s talk about the fact that she outsold literally every sports memoir in history. 2 million copies sold in the first week. yn doesn’t just break records on the track, apparently.
u/nosteeringallowed: her calling out the media for labeling her as “lucky” after she beat half the grid is ICONIC. “they didn’t call my male teammates lucky—they called them skilled.” like, yes queen, drag them.
u/ynsthegoat: what got me was the chapter about the infamous team dinner where they wouldn’t even let her speak during strategy talk. then she went out and out-qualified jenson the next day.
u/overqualifiedandundervalued: “they said i was lucky, but luck doesn’t drive faster laps or win races. luck didn’t make me the first woman to win a championship—it was skill, it was hard work, and it was me.” CHILLS. absolute chills.
u/gridgossip: is no one going to talk about the tea she spilled on that one driver? the “polite but condescending” comments she got from him while he constantly undermined her. we KNOW it’s about seb.
u/wheresthefinishline: @ u/gridgossip no no no, it’s def about fernando. she’s been shady about him for years, and the way she described the “overly competitive teammate who couldn’t handle being outpaced by a woman” fits him perfectly.
u/holygrailpodium: the inappropriate photo after her first podium makes me so mad every time. she’s standing there in tears, holding the trophy, and they choose to post a picture of her leaning over the car with her suit half-open?? disgusting.
u/gaslitandgridlocked: her dad being her biggest defender was such a beautiful part of the book, though. “why do you stay quiet when you’re the fastest in the room?” hit me right in the heart.
u/podiumqueen: not me crying over how she kept driving through all of this, knowing they didn’t want her there. like, the strength it must’ve taken to win races when her own team wasn’t even rooting for her.
u/championshipenergy: the way she calls out how different her career would’ve been if she were a man was SO POWERFUL. “they didn’t need me to be fast, they needed me to be pretty. they got both, and they still weren’t satisfied.”
u/mimosasontherace: i can’t stop thinking about the last chapter where she talks about winning her first championship and how no one in her team even hugged her when the cameras switched off. like, they couldn’t even fake happiness for her.
u/driversanddivas: this book isn’t just a memoir; it’s a reckoning. yn exposed everyone who doubted her and proved that no matter what they threw at her, she came out on top. lucky girl syndrome my ass—she EARNED that title.
u/lightsoutandread: imagine being on the grid right now, knowing you were one of the people she called out. the absolute awkwardness.
u/trophiesandtrauma: if you’re on the fence about reading this, DO IT. it’s not just about racing—it’s about breaking barriers, sexism, and resilience. honestly, it deserves all the success it’s getting.
u/checkeredpast: she’s already announced a limited series deal with a streaming platform. you KNOW it’s going to be messy when they dramatize the “wrong meeting times” scene.
u/bookishracer: “lucky girl syndrome” is officially my book of the year. yn didn’t just tell her story; she made sure no one could ever erase it again.
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liked by f1stan, ynstan and 1,837,928 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: f1 legend and now best selling author, yn yln, took to harper’s bazaar to discuss writing and her career. however, her memoir went viral for more than its record breaking sales. yln mentioned that there was a certain driver that would be her biggest fan in public and then undermine her in public. it has been dubbed ‘x marks the spot’, with the hashtag gaining major traction on social media. what do you think ham1ltons? and who do you think the supposed driver could be?
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‘there was one driver who always seemed to go out of his way to remind me i didn’t belong. he wasn’t on my team, but his presence always lingered—sharp, dismissive, condescending. let’s call him x. in interviews, he’d say all the right things, calling me a “trailblazer” and claiming he respected what i brought to the sport. but in the paddock, it was another story. during press conferences, he’d interrupt me, throwing in some smug joke that made everyone laugh but left me feeling small. once, during a rain delay, he walked past my garage and casually remarked to my engineer, loud enough for me to hear, “well, at least she’ll look good sliding off the track.” and when i won my first race, beating him in the process, he didn’t say a word. no handshake, no congratulations—just a quick glance and he was gone. i’ll never know why he went out of his way to belittle me, but in the end, i didn’t care. that win wasn’t for him. it was for me.’
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user1: it’s definitely fernando. they’ve never liked each other, and he’s always been salty when anyone’s faster than him.
-> user2: nah, it can’t be fernando. he’s competitive, but he’s never outright disrespectful. i’m thinking nico.
-> user1: girl that’s the point 😭 x was never openly disrespectful.
user3: okay but what about lewis? we KNOW their relationship wasn’t always great. remember how tense they were in interviews back then?
-> user4: no way it’s lewis. he’s literally said she’s one of the most talented drivers he’s raced against.
-> user5: lewis can say nice things now, but what if he wasn’t like that back then? she didn’t say the guy stayed disrespectful. she also said x was nice in public, who knew what he was saying in private.
user6: everyone’s ignoring seb, but she’s shaded him before. what if it’s him?
-> user7: yn has ALWAYS defended seb. if anything, he was one of the few drivers who actually supported her. it’s not him.
user8: it has to be fernando. the whole paragraph is giving fernando energy, and you know it.
-> user9: nah, i still think it’s nico. remember when he threw shade at her in a press conference after she outqualified him?
user10: you’re all wrong. it’s michael. she’s talked about how intimidating he was to race against, and she never got along with him.
-> user11: yn literally called michael one of her idols. she’d never write about him like that.
user12: y’all are missing the obvious answer—kimi. he’s the only one who would say something that blunt and not care about the fallout.
-> user13: kimi didn’t even talk to her half the time lol. i can’t see him caring enough to belittle her.
user14: okay, what if it’s no one we’re expecting? maybe it’s some random mid-grid guy like grosjean or massa.
-> user15: yn wouldn’t waste a whole chapter on someone irrelevant. it has to be one of the big names. my money’s on fernando or nico.
-> user1: fernando for sure. yn’s always been lowkey bitter about him, and this just proves it.
-> user2: it’s not fernando!! why can’t you just accept that some drivers are cocky without it being him??
-> user3: okay but if it’s not fernando, who else would it be?? the smug comments SCREAM his vibe.
user5: we’re all arguing, but yn’s probably laughing at us right now. she KNEW we’d be doing this.
user16: yn ‘attention whore’ yln.
user17: at least we know it wasn’t my king jb 😻
user18: idk who tf yn is but this tea is so juicy 😭
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[setting: thanksgiving dinner, complete chaos. plates of food are half-eaten, wine glasses are full, and cousin jess is recording everything on tiktok. the family is deep into an argument about “x marks the spot,” using jess’s infamous powerpoint as reference.]
uncle bob: jess, i still don’t get why you made a whole powerpoint about this.
cousin jess: because the people need to know, uncle bob. yn’s memoir is the drama of the decade, and you’re welcome for organizing all the evidence.
aunt carol: honestly, it’s that fernando. slide four proves it. all the press conferences where he interrupted her? it’s right there.
aunt fiona: fernando wasn’t that bad. he even congratulated her in, like, 2017. i think it’s nico. slide eight, jess literally wrote “petty king energy” under his name.
uncle hamish: it’s not nico. you’re all overthinking this. i say it’s jenson. didn’t he once call her “intense” in an interview?
cousin matt: jenson literally defended her against the media every other week, hamish. you clearly didn’t listen to slide six.
grandpa: i still don’t understand why this yn person didn’t just punch the guy.
grandma: because she has class, unlike this family. pass the stuffing.
aunt bobbi: wait, what about lewis? slide ten said they were “friendly but complicated.” maybe he was fake-nice to her.
uncle craig: fake-nice? lewis was the only one who liked her, bobbi. slide nine has like five examples of him hyping her up in interviews.
cousin jess: uncle craig, you’re wrong. he was supportive, but there’s that one time he ignored her after she beat him in qualifying. it’s suspicious.
aunt carol: you think it’s suspicious? no way. lewis isn’t smug enough to be x.
uncle hamish: oh please, you’re all just picking names because they sound dramatic. if anything, it was sebastian.
aunt fiona: seb? absolutely not. slide seven shows he called her “one of the best drivers on the grid” multiple times.
uncle bob: that’s suspicious. who compliments people that much unless they’re guilty?
grandma: compliments aren’t guilt, bob. stop eating the cranberry sauce straight from the bowl and get a grip.
aunt carol: you’re all wrong. slide four, people! fernando cutting her off mid-sentence! the man’s guilty as sin.
grandpa: why does anyone care about this? it’s all rich people in fancy cars. sounds like nonsense.
cousin matt: rich people drama is the best kind of drama, grandpa.
aunt bobbi: jess, why is kimi’s slide just a picture of him smoking with “#needthat” written under it?
cousin jess: because kimi’s innocent. everyone knows he doesn’t care about anything but being my dream man.
uncle craig: so why isn’t yn on the slide about drivers who were universally liked?
cousin jess: because she wasn’t universally liked, uncle craig. she was fast, hot, and female in a male-dominated sport. they were all salty.
uncle bob: well, now they’re all posting about how much they respect her.
grandma: of course they are. it’s called covering their asses.
uncle hamish: if i were yn, i’d name names. all this mystery is just fueling conspiracy theories.
grandpa: or she could just leave it alone so we don’t have to argue about it at thanksgiving. what the hell even is f1? is that nascar?
uncle craig: formula 1, dad. jesus, keep up.
grandma (snapping): if someone doesn’t pass me the cranberry sauce right now, i’m gonna be the next x.
[jess pans the camera to her grandma glaring at the table, muttering under her breath as the family keeps arguing.]
cousin jess (whispering into her phone): y’all, my family is losing it over x marks the spot. happy thanksgiving.
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liked by landopriv, ynupdates and 4,738,918 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: an update on the ‘x marks the spot’ speculation. it started over who exactly is x, from f1 legend yn yln’s memoir and it is causing a stir! with former/current drivers taking to social media and journalists to prove their innocence. kimi räikkönen, when asked, said ‘yn deserved every win she got. people talked too much, but she let her driving do all the talking. always respected that about her.’
mick schumacher released a statement via instagram, with a montage of photos of him and his dad with the first female championship winner: ‘my dad always believed yn was one of the most talented drivers he’d ever seen. he admired her strength, her skill, and her ability to prove everyone wrong, time and time again. he spoke so highly of her and what she brought to the sport, and i know he’d be so proud to see her telling her story.’ when sebastian vettel made a rare appearance to the grid, he confirmed that he had bought a copy and thought that he was proud to watch yn ‘make history’.
now the sudden flurry of support is making fans of the sport wonder just who is genuine and who is covering his ass? what do you think ham1ltons?
view all 2,983 comments
user1: the way literally everyone is tripping over themselves to prove it’s not them is SO funny. one of you is lying, and we will figure it out.
-> user20: exactly!! the fact that EVERYONE is suddenly posting/talking feels so suspicious lmao. someone’s definitely guilty, and they’re trying to throw us off the scent.
user2: kimi’s response is so him. short, straight, and unbothered. it’s definitely not him.
-> user22: we’re all analysing this, but kimi’s out here just vibing like always. love that man.
user3: mick’s statement is beautiful and wholesome as always, but also low-key throwing shade at the others?? like, ‘my dad always supported her’ is giving ‘can’t say the same for you lot.’
-> user21: honestly, mick’s post is the only one that feels 100% genuine. his dad was always so supportive of yn.
user4: seb really said ‘i bought the book’ and dipped. man didn’t even deny anything outright. sus??
-> user5: nah, seb’s always been a yn fanboy. remember when he called her ‘the most talented driver on the grid’? it’s not him.
user6: the lewis and nico posts are giving major ‘damage control’ energy. both of them trying WAY too hard to sound supportive.
-> user7: facts. lewis called her a ‘champion’ like we wouldn’t notice how cold things were between them back in the day.
-> user17: tbh, i don’t think it’s lewis. yn has said before that he was always encouraging her, and they’ve stayed friendly.
user8: fernando’s post feels so rehearsed. like, when has he ever gushed over yn like that before??
user9: low-key think it’s nico. man was so salty about literally everything back then, and the ‘petty king’ vibes match the memoir perfectly.
-> user10: yesss, especially the part where she said he didn’t congratulate her after her first win. sounds EXACTLY like something nico would do.
user11: not enough people are talking about jenson. just because he was her teammate doesn’t mean he’s innocent. the whole ‘answer my texts’ thing was cute, but he’s a smooth talker.
-> user12: nah, yn always spoke highly of jenson. he had her back when mclaren was treating her like a sex toy. i’m ruling him out.
user13: so we’re all just ignoring that fernando spent YEARS shading her in press conferences? india ‘13 is permanently engraved in my brain.
-> user18: can’t lie, if it’s fernando, i’ll be disappointed but not surprised. his 2013 energy was… a lot.
user14: honestly, they’re all acting sketchy. the sudden love bomb of support is too much. one of you is x and we will find out.
user15: plot twist: what if x isn’t even one of the obvious names? imagine it’s someone random like felipe massa lmao.
-> user16: watch it not even be one of the main suspects and we’ve been dragging the wrong guy this whole time 💀
user18: it’s giving ‘we need to get ahead of the narrative’ vibes, and i’m here for the chaos.
-> user19: everyone’s pr team is in OVERDRIVE rn lmfaoooo
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────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @aliciaablueprint @theblueblub @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @yongi-lee @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you don’t wanna be? or you want to be and don’t see yourself? send me an ask!)
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
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cheyisagirlkisser · 3 days ago
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i really really need pitfighter vi being mean to reader during sex🙏
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Too real she needs to blow off some steam and reader has a thing for getting degraded. They match each other's freak soooo well.
Content: 877 words, strap-on sex (r! receiving), multiple + forced orgasms, overstimulation, choking, degradation kink, dacryphilia, use of degrading names, spanking, hair pulling
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Vi is deep inside your guts, her cock slamming into you over and over again without even a second of mercy.
She has pulled three orgasms out of you already, and she has no intentions of stopping yet.
Your face is buried in the sheets, the only pillow being used underneath your stomach so you can feel the way Vi is pounding into you so hard you swear her silicone shaft is gonna be imprinted into your pussy.
You try begging for mercy. Vi slams harder into you and delivers a harsh blow to your ass cheek.
"You want me to stop now? Is that what you want?"
You're too cock-drunk to answer, only gurgling out a broken little whine.
"Listen here, baby," she gathers your hair into a ponytail and yanks it back, forcing you to look back at her, "you deserve to get fucked hard for what you pulled earlier."
You whine, knowing it was true. She thrusts into you even harder after being reminded of how you looked all smug with some random creep offering to pay for your drink. She releases her grip on your hair only to dig her black nails into your hips.
"You wanna go flirt with other people to get my attention, huh baby?" She pulls out, making you think she is finally through with you, before she slams her thick cock right back into your tender pussy. Then, one of her hands leaves your hip and strikes another harsh smack to your ass, her handprint branded into the fat. making you cry out and grasp the sheets. "Well, mission accomplished."
You know you look a mess, tears running down your face and your mascara staining up the sheets. Your hair is all tangled from Vi grabbing onto it so much so she can force your head up or to just treat you like a bitch. You let out breathy little cries every single time her harness meets your ass, only to feel the raw heat of overstimulation when she grinds up against your g-spot.
You can feel your fourth orgasm of the night bubble up within your pussy. You think one this may actually give you a heart attack, but it feels so fucking addictive.
You don't even know what's wrong with you; you always do this to Vi. Go slut around to the guys at the Zaun bars so she will get jealous and wreck your pussy. It's not like it is cheating, you two are only fucking and she likes the game just as much as you do, but she sure fucks you like she hates you. Even if you don't know it yet, she owns you completely. Even if you're not her girlfriend yet, your pussy? It belongs only to her. Nobody else gets you.
She eases the shaft out of your dripping pussy and flips you over onto your back before you can even protest. She pulls you by your legs further back so the pillow underneath you is perfectly situated for her advantage, and then you realize why she flipped you over when she hand grasps at your throat.
Her other hand guides the cock back into your pussy, earning a broken moan from you that sounds almost wounded, but the greed in your eyes tells her you're not tapped out yet. Her fingers wrap around your neck, squeezing tightly as she pumps her cock deep inside you once more. Her hand reaches between your bodies, harshly rubbing at your clit and flicking at it with her calloused fingers.
You start to cry when your orgasm finally crashes over you. It is somehow even more intense than the others. Maybe it's the view of Vi's pretty face, her pigmented black makeup trailing down her cheeks or the hunger in her eyes. It is most likely the hand around your neck knocking the air out of your lungs.
Wave after wave after wave. Vi isn't lenient, even as you sob. It feels so euphoric to get fucked so roughly, and she at least knows you well enough to see the look of raw pleasure making your eyes roll back into your head. She knows just how to treat your needy pussy, how to make it satisfied until your walls are tender and your clit is swollen and abused in the best way possible. You cum so hard it truly hurts. It hurts so good.
She talks you through it all, coaxes your juices out of you in the worst way possible.
"Bet the dickhead from the bar couldn't fuck you like this?"
"Yeah, baby...cum all over my dick. You like my fake one better than his real one, huh?"
"You don't fucking deserve to cum."
When you come down, she does stop. She can see that you're finally satisfied, and so she pulls out. She doesn't even pull the strap-on off of her hips, only falls limps back onto the bed.
After a few minutes, she hears you speak up. "Vi..?"
"Yeah?" Jeez, you sound as wrecked as I do, Vi is what you're thinking.
"Can you do it one last time? Please..?"
Vi snorts and sits up. "Your stamina is so fucked," but she is already back between your legs once more.
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fireinmoonshot · 2 days ago
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your fiyero | fiyero tigelaar x reader
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Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader Summary: Ever since Fiyero Tigelaar started at Shiz University, he found himself fascinated by you – the one student who didn't care about him. When he notices you starting to struggle with something, he'll do anything to make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of fainting, falling over, academic stress/burn out Word Count: 2.2k A/N: I've seen Wicked (the show) three times now with the amazing Australian cast that's currently touring and I fell totally head over heels with Fiyero, and then yesterday I saw the movie and fell even more in love with Fiyero and so I had to write for him. I do intend to write more for him, especially if other people want to read more! He's so fun to write for and definitely a challenge compared to some other characters I've written for in the past. I hope you all enjoy! 💗
It’s not difficult to sense the presence of Fiyero Tigelaar behind you as you leave Doctor Dillamond’s classroom, shoving your books into the bag over your shoulder. With the way the students heading into the classroom are staring at someone behind you, it’s quite obvious who they’re staring at. Everyone at Shiz University wants Fiyero Tigelaar. 
Everyone, that is, except you.
“Classes are over, you know?” Fiyero’s voice comes from behind you as you round the corner, heading down the staircase leading to the courtyard. “You don’t have to rush off.”
Irritatingly, the fact that you can’t particularly care less about wanting Fiyero Tigelaar makes himwant you. He usually isn’t the type. If someone doesn’t like him – something he’s actually yet to experience – he would just let it slide. Why waste his energy? But ever since he’d started at Shiz and met you, he’d found himself unable to leave you alone. 
“I know,” you glance back at him over your shoulder. “But some of us actually want to study and spend their time here learning, Tigelaar.”
Fiyero hurries his steps a little so he’s walking alongside you. “Did you miss the part where I said it was my job to corrupt my fellow students when I started here? It’s never too late, darling.” He flashes a grin your way.
You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, right at the same time you almost miss a step and stumble a little. Fiyero is quick, catching your elbow to help steady you. You don’t look at him as you steady yourself, meaning you miss the look of worry in his eyes.
“Are you all right?”
You clear your throat and shake off his grip. “Consider me corrupted by your presence.” 
With that, you make a beeline away from him and you’re glad to notice that he doesn’t attempt to follow you. You highly doubt that he’s going to follow you all the way to the library. Fiyero and the library have never exactly gone hand in hand. 
~~
The next time Fiyero bothers you, you’re sat on one of the benches by the gardens. There’s a book in your hands and he can see you staring intently at it as he saunters over to you. It’s almost like he’s approaching a wild bird or something, he thinks. If he moves too quickly, he’ll frighten you and scare you away. It’s the last thing Fiyero wants to do.
He’s a few steps away from you when you look up from your book and meet his eyes. His face breaks into a smile as he moves the last few steps and takes the spot beside you on the bench. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows raised. 
“Now, don’t say I’m interrupting your study,” he begins. “That book is most definitely not in the curriculum. And yes, I did actually take the time to look the curriculum up after I saw you reading here the other day, if you can believe it.”
For a few moments, you only stare at him. Fiyero, for the first time probably ever, finds himself actually a little uncomfortable at your unwavering gaze. It surprises him. He’s never the type of person to feel uncomfortable. He’s confident in almost every situation.
You let out a sigh. “It may not be in the curriculum, but you’ve interrupted me nevertheless, Tigelaar.”
“Apologies,” he says, with a small smirk. “Am I corrupting you even more with my presence?”
“Something like that.” You close your book and sit it on the small space of bench beside you. You had actually just been reading the same page over and over for the last twenty minutes and trying to convince yourself to stop overthinking things. 
You had so much studying to do, so much to learn and so many assignments to do and so little time to do it all. It was probably a little counterproductive to be sitting outside, reading a book and doing none of those things, but if you didn’t try and have a break from them all, you were pretty sure you were going to burn yourself out, which was the last thing you needed. It would have helped if you’d actually been able to relax and enjoy your book, though.
“Is it any good? Your book. Not that I’d read it, of course,” Fiyero grins.
You try your best to conceal your amusement. “I’d offer to lend it to you but, as you said, you wouldn’t actually read it so… I’ll keep it safe with me. I doubt the Winkie Prince knows how to properly take care of books if he can’t read them.”
Fiyero gasps jokingly. “I’ll have you know I can read, I just choose not to. I prefer to fill my brain with much more useless things. That way, I don’t have to think. It’s a peaceful way to live, my darling.” 
You shake your head, this time unable to keep a smile off of your face. Fiyero likes the sight of it. It strangely makes his heart beat a little faster. He can’t actually remember the last time he saw you smiling… not that he’s been keeping track. 
“How about you join me?” He offers. “No more studying for the rest of the day and no more thinking? I’m positive I could find something we could do to fill the time.” 
The reminder of studying, however, brings you back to reality after you small moment of joking with Fiyero. You reach down and grab your book before standing up and turning to face Fiyero, who is looking at you with slight concern in his eyes at your sudden movement.
“I can’t,” you say simply. “I’ve been reading all morning and there is a lot I have to do. I’ll see you around, Tigelaar.”
He watches you with furrowed eyebrows as you walk away from him, clutching your book to your chest and heading in the direction of the library. Fiyero shakes his head and lets out a small laugh. He really thought today would be the day he’d win you over.
~~
A week goes by without Fiyero even getting to utter a word to you. He sees you, though, fairly often around the school. In the courtyard, in the library (where he definitely didn’t go specifically looking for you), in history class and in the dining hall. But every time he’s thought to approach you, you’ve disappeared before he could even make his move. It’s on the seventh day when he notices that something is different about you.
You’re coming out of the library, carrying several books and what looks like a stack of papers in your hands when you trip. Fiyero isn’t quick enough to cross the courtyard and get to you in time to stop your fall. He does, however, take off at a run to be by your side as you start collecting all of the scattered pieces of paper and books that had fallen out of your grasp.
“It’s all right, Tigelaar. You don’t have to help me,” you mutter, trying to shove books into your already overfilled bag. “It’s a Friday night. I’m sure you’ve got other places to be.”
Fiyero, truthfully, does have other places to be. He’s been invited to the Ozdust Ballroom by nine separate people today. But how can he leave you to just clean all this up by yourself? He can see just by the look on your face that you’re utterly exhausted.
“I do,” he says honestly. “But I’ll help you with this first.”
He’s surprised when you suddenly stop putting things in your bag and when he looks up, he finds you staring at him again. It makes him uncomfortable in the same way he felt last week when you’d looked at him in a similar way. 
“Okay,” you sigh. 
Your lack of energy in fighting him is the second thing to make Fiyero realise something is wrong.
After the two of you finish picking up all of the things you’d dropped, the both of you stand. Fiyero opens his mouth to say something when he notices you start to sway. He’s quicker this time, moving to catch you before you fall. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you steady, while his other hand takes the book bag off your shoulder and moves it straight onto his. He’s surprised by how heavy it is. 
“Woah, darling, what’s going on?” Fiyero looks down at you as you blink and push yourself away from him. “Hey, be careful, okay? I think you were just about to faint.”
You shake your head. “I just stood up too fast, that’s all.” You know the words are a lie, and you can tell that Fiyero knows that as well. First, he’d seen you trip coming out of the library, then he’d caught you when you’d almost fainted… you can’t hide it from him. That much becomes crystal clear immediately.
“Let’s get you somewhere you can sit down, okay?” Fiyero begins. “May I?” He gestures to you, asking silently if he can wrap an arm around you to support you incase you fall over again. 
You nod and allow him to guide you just around the corner into the small seating area off to the side of the library. It’s dark, the lanterns not being lit yet despite the fact that the sun had gone down over twenty minutes ago.
“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy,” you say sheepishly. “That’s twice you’ve stopped me from falling in the last two weeks… I suppose I should say thank you, Fiyero.”
Fiyero sits you down gently on the bench and sits your book bag down on the ground. He crouches down in front of you and reaches up to take your hands in his. He’s surprised when you don’t immediately pull away from him. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me by my first name before.”
“Oh,” you think on it for a second, trying to ignore the warm feeling of his hands and how comforting it is. “I guess I haven’t. Sorry, Tigelaar.”
“No, no,” Fiyero shakes his head. “Don’t go back to that. I like when you call me Fiyero.”
“Well, I suppose it is your name,” you offer a small smile.
“There’s that gorgeous smile,” Fiyero smiles back at you and squeezes your hands. “Now, are you gonna tell me why you almost just fainted on me and why you’re clumsier than you usually are, darling?”
You stay silent for a few moments and just when Fiyero begins to think that you might just brush him off and try to make a quick exit like you did last week, you start to speak.
“I haven’t really been sleeping well lately,” you admit quietly. “I’ve had so much work to do, I fell behind on my assignments and I took on some extra work from Doctor Dillamond and… despite my best efforts, I guess I let myself get a little burnt out.”
Fiyero looks at you with his eyes full of pity and you hate it. 
“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “that’s not important. Why would you care?”
Your attempt to make light of the situation fails spectacularly, judging by the look that Fiyero gives you afterwards. You’ve never seen him look that unimpressed before. 
“Of course I care,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. 
“Why, though?” You can’t help but ask. “Why are you so fixated on me?”
Fiyero sighs and moves to sit beside you, letting go of your hands in the process. “If you’ll allow me to be honest with you for a moment,” he starts, “I suppose… you’re the only person at Shiz that doesn’t treat me like the perfect Winkie Prince that everyone thinks I am. You’re the only person that doesn’t think I’m perfect, and half the time you act like you can’t stand to be around me, and for some reason that only makes me want to be around you more.” 
“Are you not the perfect Winkie Prince?” You ask.
Fiyero grins. “Oh, not in the slightest, darling. But let’s keep that between us. I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine. How does that sound?” 
You don’t even try to hide the smile that comes to your face at his words. “You promise you won’t tell anyone about what happened today?”
“I promise,” he nods. “But only on one condition: you tell Doctor Dillamond you can’t complete the extra work you signed up for and you take a break to make sure you get plenty of rest before diving into your other assignments. I’m sure I can sweet talk some of the Professors if you need help.” 
He smiles as you hit him with the same look as before, but for the first time, he doesn’t find himself feeling uncomfortable at the sight of it. Now, he finds it slightly amusing and incredibly endearing. He has always found you endearing, he supposes.
“Sweet talking my Professors will not be necessary,” you chuckle. “But okay. It’s a deal. And I’ll keep your secret too. You can continue to be the perfect Winkie Prince to everyone… except me.”
Fiyero laughs. “I’ll just be your Fiyero, then.”
“My Fiyero?” You repeat after him, eyebrows raised. 
He ignores the way his heart beats faster at the sound of those words coming out of your mouth. 
“Yes, your Fiyero,” he hums. 
“Everyone will think that you finally corrupted me after all this time,” you joke, voice teasing. “I’ll just be like everyone else at Shiz. Part of the Fiyero Tigelaar fan club.”
Fiyero fixes you with a look. “Oh, darling. You could never be like everyone else.” 
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peachesofteal · 2 days ago
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley/female reader
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"Mama."
"That's right little man. That's mama." Orion tucks his face into Simon's chest, sleepy and confused. Simon knows he doesn't understand what's happening, why his mother is asleep in a bed, asleep for days without waking, asleep and hooked up to too many machines.
"Mama!" He screeches, swinging his body backwards, and Simon has to hold him tight, trying to keep him close. Cami says he's struggling, doesn't understand why he's at their house all the time, doesn't understand what's happened to his mum. He's confused, and scared, just a little boy in a world trying to hurt him.
"She's sleeping bub. Mama is sleeping." He bows his head, breathing his son in, swallowing the rattle in his chest. "She's sleeping."
You're sinking into that bed.
It's becoming a part of you, becoming all of you, and no matter how many times they bathe you and turn you and change the sheets, you stay tethered to it. In the mornings, when he begins his watch, he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your mouth, keeping his eyes closed and wishing on nothing that yours will open.
"I'm sorry." He folds your left hand in his. They had to take the rest of your finger, all the way down due to infection, an agonizing reminder of your pain, your suffering. His failure. "I need you to wake up," he croaks in a voice he's only just learned to recognize, one filled with despair, with mourning. "You have to wake up. For Orion and the baby. For me."
He pleads. He bargains. He begs. He promises.
"I'm done now, mama. I'm done. I'll never leave you again. Never leave any of you. 'm taking a desk job, so I need you to wake up so you can be sick of me hanging around the house all day."
Still, nothing.
Once a week, your doctor wheels an ultrasound in to check on the baby. He stares at the screen with tears in his eyes, his hand covering yours.
It's a girl. A perfectly healthy little girl.
He didn't mean to find out but in the pandemonium of those first few days when they brought you here, it slipped his mind. The first time someone talked about the baby, they said her.
"Her heartbeat is strong, and there are no signs of trauma to the placenta. She's okay." 
They left the room afterwards. Left him to his ugly, rib splitting sobs. Left him to press his palm to your belly and rest his head on the bed beside you, soaking the sheets with his tears.
A girl. Your Phoenix.
Today, the doctor asks him to step outside.
"We need to discuss some potential plans of care."
"What do you mean?"
"She's close to delivering, Simon. If she doesn't wake, we'll need to do a c-section." His heart stops. That's not supposed to be for months yet. How long have you been here? 
"I thought... I thought we had more time."
"We do. Another five weeks or so, but I want to put a plan together, so you have time." Time. He needs more of it. So much more of it with you. He nods, and she gives him a sympathetic smile. "Simon, a newborn and a toddler is a lot of work. I want you to prepare for this possibility, okay?" He pushes it from his mind.
"She'll wake up before then." What the fuck does he know about these things? Nothing. But he refuses to live in a world where you miss the birth of your daughter, where you miss her first breath, her first cry, where you miss the moment where Orion holds his baby sister for the first time.
"Simon-"
"She will," he glares and she pats his shoulder before leaving him in the same spot, frozen, staring at the door to your room.
When he sinks back into his chair, resumes his post, he tugs your hand back into his.
"You'll wake up, mama. I know you will."
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leahwllmsn · 1 day ago
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wait for me to come home
alexia putellas x reader
word count: 14.1k
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You and Alexia have been best friends your whole lives. You’re adamant that moving away from Barcelona won’t change a thing between you. Alexia fears otherwise.
or classic best friends to lovers :)
“Can’t believe you’re really leaving.” It was midnight. You were sitting on your usual spot at the beach with Alexia, your head on her shoulder, both of you staring out at the sea. Despite the tightness in her chest, Alexia felt at ease with you next to her.
“I can’t believe it either,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.
Alexia took a deep breath. You were only going away for a year, you said. It did nothing to calm the nerves she felt all over. One year, but that would be the longest you've been away from each other. Alexia still didn’t know how to feel, she didn’t know what to feel. She figured it still hadn’t sunk in, that you were leaving. Leaving her.
In the morning when Alexia would drop you off at the airport and you’d wave goodbye, that was probably when she’d feel everything. That was probably when the feeling of emptiness would set.
“I’ll call you everyday,” you said, hugging Alexia’s left arm tightly. “It will be like I’m still in Barcelona with you.”
Alexia chuckled, “You don’t have to call me everyday, cariño.”
You turned your head towards your best friend. “Are you saying you don’t want me to call everyday?”
“Don’t twist my words!” Alexia laughed. “It’s just that I don’t want you to feel pressured to have to call me everyday. You’re a busy woman. I’m the one who waits for you whenever you have night shifts and I watch enough of your Meredith Grey shows to know how busy things at the hospital can be.”
You snickered at her mention of Grey’s Anatomy. Alexia would always complain about how unrealistic the show was whenever you put it on, yet she still stayed by your side and watched the damn thing. You placed your head back on her shoulder and sighed. “I don’t care if I’m busy, I’ll always make time for you.”
Alexia gulped. It was the way you said it, your voice small, yet your tone firm, as if a world where you didn’t have time for her was just impossible. “I love you, you know.”
Alexia furrowed her brows when you didn’t answer straight away like you always did. She was about to open her mouth to say something, when you pulled away and stood up, stretching your hand out for her to take.
“Do you want to head back?” Alexia asked.
“No,” you cleared your throat. “Let’s just walk around. The sand is making me itchy.”
“It’s because you’re wearing shorts,” Alexia took your hand and stood up. “I told you you can sit on my lap, you didn’t listen.”
You dusted off the sand from the back of your legs. “Didn’t want to.”
“Why? It’s comfy.”
“How would you know? You’ve never sat on your own lap before,” you said, your tone teasing.
“Idiota.” 
You kept walking along the beach, swinging your arms back and forth. It was quiet, but nice. Just the two of you, enjoying each other’s presence. Alexia felt her heart twinge when she realized that she didn’t know when she’d have another moment like this with you.
“Y/n,” Alexia spoke up after a few moments.
You hummed in reply.
This felt really nice, the way your hands were intertwined… Your shoulders bumping every now and then��� Everything felt so right. Alexia took a deep breath and tried her best to not let herself get too emotional. She didn’t want to cry just yet, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop if she did.
“Ale, what were you going to say?”
“I’m in love with you.”
Alexia immediately shook her head, reminding herself not to let those words slip. She looked down and focused on the way her feet were kicking the sand with every step she took forward. “Nothing.”
You brought Alexia’s hand up to your lips and kissed the back of it. It was something you always did, but it still made Alexia’s heart drop every time. 
Maybe it was because the gesture had always made Alexia fall for you even more, or maybe it was because Alexia knew the platonic way it meant to you when Alexia wanted more than that.
“I know you, Ale,” you stopped walking and turned towards her. “You’re thinking about something.”
“Hm? What makes you think so?”
You poked Alexia’s forehead softly. “You have that crinkle between your brows. And you’ve been biting your lip for the past few minutes.”
Alexia hated the fact that you knew her so well, because it meant that she could never hide anything from you. The only thing Alexia successfully kept hidden were her feelings for you. Apart from that, you knew her better than anyone, and she was the same to you. 
Having known each other for more than two decades was a factor, but Alexia felt like it was simply because you were soulmates.
Alexia realized that no matter how hard she tried to move on from you, you would always be the one for her. Even though you didn’t feel the same way, she knew it would never change how she felt about you. She made her peace with it.
“It’s nothing,” Alexia said once more. “I swear.” You seemed to take the hint and didn’t pry further.
You tugged her hand and continued on walking, Alexia turning her head to the side every now and then, observing you. It was dark, the street lights were dim, and the moonlight wasn’t too bright, yet Alexia can still mention every little detail of your face—she had memorized them all after years of looking at you—from your warm eyes, to the delicate bridge of your nose, and the curve of your small lips. You were so beautiful that Alexia always felt breathless every time she looked at you, despite having known you since you were kids.
In that moment, with you humming along to a random song, your right hand interlocked with Alexia’s left one, there was nothing Alexia wanted more than to just confess her feelings for you. But she knew that you didn’t feel the same way, so telling you would just be pointless.
You turned your head to look at Alexia, catching her staring at you with that look on her face, the one look that you never could quite comprehend. When your lips formed a soft smile, Alexia couldn’t help but instantly reciprocate. Your smile was beautiful.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, your tone bashful.
“I’m in love with you.”
“I’m so, so in love with you.”
“I’m so in love with you that my heart hurts every time you smile.”
Alexia shrugged. “Just thinking about how I will miss you a lot.”
“Ah,” you nodded. “So that was what you were thinking about earlier?”
“No. I was thinking about how I’m so hopelessly in love with you.”
“You got me,” Alexia replied instead.
You sighed, squeezing her hand. “I’ll miss you too. At least you have a million pictures of me in your phone that you can look at if you’re missing me.”
Alexia laughed at that. “You better have a million pictures of me too.”
“Of course, I do,” you snickered. “Even you in diapers, I have them all.”
“No, you don’t!”
“I do! Eli sent them to me.” You had asked Eli for pictures of baby Alexia and she didn’t disappoint. They were adorable, especially the one where Alexia was learning how to crawl, wearing nothing but her diapers.
“You better not show it to anyone.”
“I’ll post it on Instagram before I leave.”
Alexia rolled her eyes, “You’re such a brat sometimes.”
“I’m such a brat?” you let go of Alexia’s hand to pull out your phone from your pocket. You stopped walking so Alexia stopped too, arms crossed, waiting for whatever it was you were doing.
After a few seconds of you scrolling silently through your phone, you flashed your screen to Alexia, showing the picture you mentioned before. “Want to say that again, Putellas?”
“You’re so annoying,” Alexia groaned. “I swear to god if you post that—”
“Watch me.” Your face was smug.
“Y/n,” Alexia said slowly, her tone full of warning.
You grinned, tapping something on the screen before you started running. The sound of your laughter getting smaller and smaller as you ran further away.
“That little—” Alexia cursed under her breath before she started running after you. “Tonta! Come back!”
“No!” Your figure was getting tinier and tinier that Alexia couldn’t help but laugh along.
Eventually, Alexia was able to catch up with you once you stopped running. Your hands were on your hips, trying to catch your breath.
“Why are you making me exercise at one in the morning?” Alexia asked, exhaling loudly.
You shrugged in reply, still out of breath. Alexia had always been the more athletic one out of the two of you. “Just wanted to run.”
“I’m so tired,” Alexia groaned. “Training was tough today.”
You rolled your eyes. You knew she was just being dramatic. “That was nothing. You need to exercise more, Ale.”
“The nerve!” Alexia barked out a laugh. “Who’s the athlete here?”
“Not you if that run tires you out.”
Alexia smiled fondly at you. You get on her nerves a lot. She wouldn’t have it any other way. “Now what did you do? Did you post that on Instagram? Because I’ll kill you, idiota.”
“Oh no, I’m sooo scared,” you mockingly said, a pout on your lips. “Oh nooo.”
Alexia narrowed her eyes at you before she stepped forward and tickled your stomach.
“What are you—Alexia! Ale-Alexia stop it! Stop it right now!”
“Not until you delete that picture!” Alexia kept on tickling you. “Delete it!”
You were both laughing and Alexia didn’t show any signs of stopping until you tripped. You would’ve fallen to the ground if it weren’t for Alexia’s quick reflexes, her arms immediately encircling around your waist.
You were staring at each other, your breath heavy from all the laughter that had long died out. Alexia felt dizzy. Your lips were so close to hers, Alexia could just lean forward and all her questions about how your lips taste would be answered. Alexia saw you blinking back a couple of times, she even swore she saw your eyes dart to her lips. 
The street lights were illuminating your features perfectly and Alexia could see your lips twitching slightly—as if you wanted to close the distance between you too.
Suddenly your phone rang, breaking you two apart. You cleared your throat and answered your phone. 
Alexia let out the deep breath she was holding, rubbing the back of her neck. She had a feeling that she would kiss you if the phone rang a second too late, which would be a disaster. She was thankful to whoever called, because she would never forgive herself if she ruined your friendship just because of her stupid feelings.
“Sorry,” you said. “That was Leila, just asking what time I’d be at the airport tomorrow.”
“Right.” There it was again, the unsettling feeling in her stomach every time Leila was mentioned. Alexia swallowed hard, trying her best not to show her jealousy. She was the one who introduced you to Leila when you joined a night out with the Barcelona girls. Alexia didn’t know that you two would hit it off. She didn’t know that Leila would move to Manchester and shockingly, you got offered a job at one of the best hospitals in Manchester.
It felt like the universe was playing some cruel joke.
Alexia had to keep reminding herself that you weren’t hers, that you had every right to be with whoever you wanted. Alexia had no right to be jealous.
“That’s very cool, by the way,” Alexia said, putting her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “How you two are somehow going to the same country, same city.”
“Yeah, Codi said it was fate or something.” 
Fate? Me tripping over your leg at the playground when we were five was fate. Me immediately crying and you wiping my tears away until my mom came was fate. That was meant to happen because it made my mom invite you and your mom over for dinner, and it made us become best friends ever since. That was fate. Leila going to the same city as you was merely a coincidence. 
“Sure,” Alexia said, swallowing the bitterness in her mouth. “If that’s what you think.”
You sighed. “I don’t know. Ask me again in a year or so and I’ll tell you if Leila and I are fated or not.”
Alexia didn’t answer, instead she just kept on staring at you, taking in the sight of you standing in front of her for the last time.
In the morning, you were leaving. You’d have a new life in Manchester, one that Alexia wouldn’t be a big part of, seeing how she was all the way in Barcelona. 
Alexia tried to bury deep, deep inside the pain that kept on reappearing every now and then, but it was getting increasingly difficult with the way you looked back at her—your eyes full of tenderness, as if you felt the same way Alexia did, as if it killed you to not be able to say exactly what you wanted to say. 
But Alexia shrugged it off. There was no time to think about these made-up scenarios in her head. You were leaving soon. 
Alexia stepped forward and hugged you as tight as she could, wanting to remember the way you felt in her embrace.
You kept your promise and called Alexia everyday. It lasted for two months before things became more hectic for the two of you and the daily calls stopped. In your defense, you really did try your best, but some days you had late night shifts and when you didn’t, you had date nights with Leila.
“Cariño! I haven’t heard your voice in two days! That is crazy. I was wondering if you were still alive.”
“Ha ha. So funny, Alexia.”
“Such a busy woman.”
Alexia was thriving even more if that was even possible, scoring more goals and assists, earning her more media duties and appearances. She was busy too.
You would catch her on your television sometimes, an interview or replays of her games. You were used to it, you knew Alexia before and after her rise to fame. But without the back and forth texts, without the calls and hearing her voice, without having her next to you, Alexia had never felt so out of reach.
“Hey, is it a bad time?”
“Hola, princessa. ‘m about to sleep. So tired. Call me tomorrow?”
“Okay, Ale. Sweet dreams.”
“Love you.”
Weeks with limited communication turned into months and the next thing you knew, you went from knowing everything about Alexia’s life, to finding out she had a girlfriend from your girlfriend.
Apparently Olga was a mutual friend. Leila had only good things to say about her.
You called Alexia that night, asking her about it. She didn’t have much to say, a tell-tale sign that she was uncomfortable, but why she was uncomfortable you couldn’t decipher it.
“Is she good to you at least?”
“Yeah.”
“Does she make you happy?”
“Sí.”
“Then that’s all that matters.”
For the first time since you’ve known her, you felt like a stranger in Alexia’s life. You couldn’t tell exactly when things changed. It must’ve been the depleting texts sent each day, the less and less phone calls until it went down to none at all for a week or two, and when you two did have time for a call, it felt… awkward.
The first argument started when Alexia casually joked about how you were so busy and you didn’t have time for her anymore, how you have a more exciting life now in Manchester. She was laughing but you just got off a twelve hour shift at work and you were exhausted. 
“Like you’re not the same?” you fired back, feeling a headache coming through.
Instead of changing the subject like you hoped she would, Alexia rebutted your claim. “I do have time for you.”
You let out a laugh. “Between football and your new girlfriend? You don’t, Ale. Don’t act otherwise.”
“Wow. Okay.”
You seemed to instantly snap out of it at the tone of her voice. Alexia sounded hurt and for a second, you felt guilty for starting a fight. But what she said hurt you too, because even though she said it in a joking way, you knew she meant it.
“Sorry,” you sighed. “Can we talk tomorrow? I’m not in the mood.”
“Right, yeah. Bye.”
The arguments seemed to snowball after that first one. Your calls were still rare, but when you or Alexia forced yourselves to call the other, it didn’t end well.
That should be the first warning sign for you—how you felt forced to call her when you used to want to hear her voice all the time.
“How was your day?”
“It was fine.” 
“Can you at least act like you’re excited to talk to me?”
“If we’re just going to fight, Ale, you shouldn’t have called.”
“Whatever. Good night.”
The next thing you knew, there wasn’t a call that went by without some small, unimportant argument.
It got worse when you told her you weren’t staying for only one year as originally planned. You liked it here in Manchester. You had a good job and you were surrounded by wonderful people.
Alexia ignored you for the whole day only to call you early in the morning, her voice raspier than usual. You knew that meant she spent the night crying.
“You don’t know when you’ll be back?”
“I don’t know when I’ll be back in Barcelona, no.”
“How am I supposed to go for… what? Another year without you? Two years? More?”
“You’ve been doing just fine so far. I don’t see the problem, Ale.”
“I miss you every night that you're not here. I don’t think that's doing ‘fine’.”
“Oh c’mon. We haven't been the same.”
“Just because we haven’t been talking as much doesn’t mean that I love you less, but whatever.”
It got even worse when you were supposed to fly back to Spain for Alexia’s birthday, but you had to cancel at the last minute because you were stuck with an emergency case at the hospital.
In hindsight, it was a stupid reason, something you could totally resolve by having one of your co-workers take over for you. But your mind went into overdrive, you somehow convinced yourself that you couldn’t leave the country.
Maybe it was out of fear of seeing Alexia again, not wanting to see how the distance had changed your dynamics.
Alexia’s reaction when you told her you weren’t going to be there hurt more than you could admit. 
“You’d never miss my birthday and I’d never miss yours. That was a promise.”
“We were seven, Alexia.”
Alexia didn’t say anything else and you didn’t need to see her face to know how dejected she was. You ignored the pain in your chest, convincing yourself that you were doing the right thing. You didn’t need to fly for more than two hours for someone’s birthday.
The old you would’ve screamed at you if she knew what you were doing. Alexia wasn’t just someone. She was… she was your everything and more. 
When midnight rolled around and you would usually be next to Alexia, wishing her a happy birthday with a present in hand, and instead you were all the way in Manchester, you felt that maybe you were dumb to let the arguments get in your head.
You took a deep breath and texted her a happy birthday. You weren’t sure if she would pick up if you called. 
Alexia didn’t reply to your text until noon that day, saying how she was off to celebrate with her family as usual and she’d call you after dinner. She didn’t mention Olga, but you knew she was there from Alba.
You sat in your apartment alone in the dark, Leila was out with her friends. It was only then that it dawned on you how lonely you were. You couldn’t imagine how Alexia was feeling—that was, if she still cared about you.
You had been there for Alexia’s birthday ever since she turned six years old. You didn’t think that you’d ever miss one, ever. But here you were.
It was weird to see Olga in place of you, seated between Eli and Alba as she grinned at Alexia blowing the candles out.
That used to be you.
Instead, you were in a different country, wishing you were at a place where someone else had claimed your spot. 
When it was way after dinner time and you still hadn’t heard from Alexia even though she said she’d call, you decided to send her a text. Something short and straight to the point: can I call you?
Alexia didn’t reply and you fell asleep with a feeling so hollow in your chest, you wondered if love was supposed to hurt this bad.
stop making promises you can’t keep, alexia
The loud ringing of your phone woke you up. You didn’t think that you’d see an incoming call from Alexia this early.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hello to you too, Ale.” Your tone was curt. In your defense, you had just woken up. 
“You’re picking a fight,” Alexia stated. “I don’t know why, but it’s not nice.”
“Picking a fight?” You scoffed in disbelief. “Is this about my text? I was simply telling you to stop making promises, because you can’t keep them. You told me you’d call me, you didn’t.”
You said it so accusatory that Alexia felt a sudden rush of anger. “You’re being ridiculous. I fell asleep. I’m calling you now, aren’t I?”
“I’m being ridiculous? Is it not me who had to wait for hours for your call?”
Alexia let out a bitter laugh. “Saying all that like I don’t usually have to wait hours and hours for you too?”
“Well, you’re the one with the empty promises. You promised me that things won’t be different between us, well. Look at us now.”
“That’s not entirely my fault and you know it. If we’re playing that game, you said you’d call me everyday, you said you’d always have time for me. Look at us now, cariño!”
Alexia never raised her voice at you. That was how you knew things were truly different now. “I was busy. Some days I have twelve hour shifts, Alexia,” you replied simply, not wanting to raise your voice too.
“Busy,” Alexia scoffed at you. “But you still have time to watch Leila’s games every week.”
You immediately felt defensive at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. “Why are you dragging Leila into this?”
Alexia was about to give you a piece of her mind, about how having a quick call with her wasn’t as time consuming as watching a 90-minute football game, but you still had more to say.
“Leila has nothing to do with us turning into… into this mess!” So much for not wanting to raise your voice at her. “Besides, you have Olga too. You spent all your time with her and forgot the plans we made first.” You fired back at her, a part of you hated that Olga took your place, that Olga was able to be in Barcelona next to Alexia, doing all the things you used to do.
People would think you were jealous, but you weren’t. You just didn’t like her. You didn’t like that she was taking up too much of Alexia’s time. That wasn’t jealousy.
“What plans? If I forgot something, then tell me. I’m not a fucking mind reader, Y/n.”
“What was I supposed to do? Ask you to pick between Olga and I? Why would I do that when I know you’ll pick her!”
(You might sound a little crazy. But you wouldn't admit that to anyone. In your defense, it was hard being demoted to second choice.)
“What’s your problem with Olga?” Alexia accused you, she knew you all too well.
“I have no problem with her. What's your problem with Leila?”
“Don’t change the subject. I was once your best friend, I know you more than anyone, and I know how you usually are when you don’t like someone.”
The use of past tense shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. You knew things had changed between you. “Glad to know you don’t think we’re best friends anymore.”
Alexia let out an exhale. “You haven’t been acting like you’re my best friend for sometime. Don’t act all innocent.”
“Even though we haven’t been talking much, you’re still my person. But since I don’t seem to matter to you anymore, I’ll just…” you trailed off, suddenly feeling stupid for all of this.
Alexia could feel that familiar tug in her heart, the feeling of wanting to make everything in the world right for you.
But for once, she casted it aside. The anger she had at you overpowering everything. “I don’t think I matter to you anymore either, so I guess we’re even.”
There was a pause before you utter your next words. “You matter the most to me.” 
Alexia could only scoff. “Sure, you have done such a great job of showing that I matter to you—you couldn’t even spare five minutes of your precious 24 hours to talk to me!”
Deep down, you knew that. You knew that you were guilt-tripping Alexia when you had your faults too.
None of you said anything else. For once, in the two decades that you’ve known each other, you both didn’t know what to say—had nothing else to say.
When all Alexia could come up with was “I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re really hurting me this time,” you knew you had to put an end to all of this.
“I think we should just… take a break from all of this.”
Alexia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. You didn’t think you had it in you to say those words either. Even though the conversations between you two had diminished, saying that you wanted to stop talking to each other felt so… final. 
“What?”
“I’m tired, Ale.”
“You don’t think I’m tired too?” you could hear the urgency in her voice. “What does that even mean? ‘Take a break from all this’? You want a break from me, you mean? What ever happened to ‘you’re my person, Alexia?’” Alexia mimicked your voice. She was getting angrier by the second, you could tell. 
“You told me I’m hurting you! I’m tired of hurting you. I didn’t even realize it, Ale. I never wanted that. All we’ve been doing is fighting each other. I don’t know how to stop this. I don’t see a solution to this, I really don’t.”
Neither of you knew where it went wrong. One day you two were fine—you two loved each other more than anything in this world—the next thing you knew, you couldn’t hold up a conversation where it didn’t end with exasperated voices and tired sighs.
It was the distance, you assumed.
You and Alexia were attached at the hip. The only time you two went separate ways was when she had away games and international duties.
It was a two and a half hour flight between Barcelona and Manchester, but neither of you had made the trip to see one another. Alexia seemed even more far away as the days went by.
She had Olga to turn to now, you could feel her not needing you anymore. 
It was the distance that took Alexia away from you, you would convince yourself that. It wasn’t the nameless feeling in your chest that felt a lot like yearning, jealousy, and regret all at once.
You ended the call, not knowing whether you’d ever talk to Alexia again.
Losing someone that had always been a constant in your life was devastating.
It was miserable. You were the most miserable you had ever been.
Leila kept on asking you what was wrong, your friends in Barcelona updating her that Alexia was in the same state as you. Not that you cared.
You didn’t know how to live without Alexia in your life, but you’d manage. You’d learn. This wasn’t the end of the world.
You steered clear of your social media, not wanting to see any posts of her from your mutual friends or from the Barcelona account.
Leila and a couple of your friends eventually stopped asking you about what went wrong with Alexia, to which you were glad, but the emptiness you felt when no one brought Alexia up to you was starting to make you uneasy.
Alexia used to be in all your conversations, she was a huge part of your life. Now it felt like she was never a part of it.
A few months passed by, your birthday rolled around and you assumed—you wished—that Alexia would break this silence between you two. It was your birthday after all.
But you should’ve known how stubborn she was. 
When you stayed up until the clock strikes midnight and there was no text from Alexia, when she used to pride herself on being the first person to wish you a happy birthday, you knew you had lost her for good. 
You spent your birthday with pain in your chest like no other. You just wanted Alexia back. 
Your friends in Manchester knew something was up with you, Leila figured that it was mostly because of Alexia. None of them could understand why it was upsetting you so much.
That night, you sat on your balcony and looked through the folder of pictures on your phone that contained decades worth of memories of Alexia. With each scroll, you could feel more tears running down your cheeks.
There was a photo of you when you were ten, Alexia next to you laughing at how ugly your haircut was.
Another photo was of you at prom, Alexia as your plus one. Despite the countless promposals you received, you’d rather have Alexia as your date than the stinky boys at your school.
When Alexia got called up for the national team for the first time, you were there with Eli to watch her score her first international goal. The photo you had was of her carrying you on her back. It was after the game ended and Alexia had too much energy that she had to carry you around the field.
The next photo was of Alexia sleeping at the library, you were studying for your exams when you were in University and Alexia had the day off. To her, nothing was better than spending it with you, even if it meant that she had to sit there and watch you study boring stuff. Alexia always had faith that you were going to be the best doctor in Barcelona.
You had a photo of when you flew across continents to watch her win the World Cup, grinning next to Alexia as she kissed your cheek, trophy in hand.
A photo of when she tore her ACL and you were there at her bedside as she was preparing to go into surgery. Alexia didn’t let go of your hand until she was in front of the operating room.
A photo of you and Alexia in a locker room, both in Barcelona jerseys. It was the day before your exam, but it was also the Champions League final. You brought your textbook and Alba kept on laughing when you studied during half-time.
Most photos were of Alexia doing mundane things. They meant the most to you because of how carefree she looked in all of them.
Alexia making stupid faces at you as you grocery shopped together.
Alexia laughing next to you in the driver seat as she drove you to work.
Alexia cooking dinner for the two of you, her eyebrows scrunching in concentration as she read the ingredients from her new cookbook.
Alexia sipping coffee in your favourite coffee shop in Barcelona. They served the best banana bread, you never wanted to share them with anyone, not even Alexia.
Alexia watching replays of her games on her iPad. She was laying down on your couch, your throw blanket draped over her feet.
Alexia smiling at you with that look.
As you reached the last picture you had on the album, a photo of Alexia taken by you the morning you left for Manchester—she was on the driver seat, a wistful smile on her face as she turned to look at you during a red light—you suddenly felt as if you couldn’t breathe.
You were in love with Alexia.
You were so desperately in love with Alexia, you had always been, ever since you let her become your first kiss.
You didn’t like any of Alexia’s relationships, because you were jealous. You thought none of her girlfriends could treat her well, no one lived up to your expectations. You felt like you were the only one who could understand her.
You hugged the blanket around yourself tighter, the gust of wind making your teeth chatter. You wanted Alexia there next to you, she would know that you were never a fan of the cold, always making sure that you were bundled up and warm.
You had a million thoughts running through your mind, mostly about how you missed all the signs of being in love with your best friend. Although deep down, you’ve always known that what you felt for Alexia was too intense to be strictly platonic. 
But when someone kissed you, having it meant the world to you, only for her to wish it never happened, you felt like it was justifiable that you decided to lock your feelings away.
Now that you’ve uncovered them, you didn’t know how to go on and pretend that you were fine with having Alexia out of your life.
Barcelona was playing against Manchester City at the Etihad. This wasn’t something you could get out of, you needed to be there to support Leila.
You had some friends traveling to Manchester to watch the match, you decided to sit with them instead of your usual spot at the Friends and Family section. You wanted—no, you needed someone to distract you from the person you hadn’t seen in almost two years.
You ignored your friends’ teasing at your Man City jersey instead of the Blaugrana colour (with Alexia’s name and number) you usually wore. They didn’t mention Alexia to you, having figured out the fallout, but a part of you wanted them to. You wanted them to tell you about Alexia and how she’d been doing.
Your resolve almost crumbled, Alexia’s name on the tip of your tongue. If it wasn’t for the players entering the field and the loud cheers from the audience, you would’ve asked them about Alexia.
Alexia, who was no longer blonde apparently. You saw her run to the field, her brown hair in a neat ponytail. Even from afar you could still see her smile. You hated that you still felt like jumping off a cliff at the sight.
You hated that your gaze was always drawn to her instead of your girlfriend.
Later when the game ended and Barcelona eventually won, you went to meet Leila at the barrier, whispering how great she played despite it all. 
You almost accepted her invite to a night out with some of the Barcelona girls. The temptation to see Alexia again was so strong, but you didn’t think you were ready yet. 
You saw her anyway, in your dreams that night. Maybe it was that deep yearning that caused you to text her as soon as you woke up.
good game yesterday. always proud of you
Your reconciliation didn’t happen all at once. 
You didn’t magically go back to being the same as you were before (there was some apprehension from both parties), but it was close enough. 
It was scarily easy to integrate Alexia back into your life even though you hadn’t talked to each other for so long.
First it was the likes on Instagram posts, or a reply to your Instagram story of gloomy Manchester sky, or a comment on Alexia’s post of her match day outfit.
Then the texts started. A simple text from Alexia telling you that she was through to the finals of the Euros. Or a text from you containing a picture of your cat, Mr. Oreo. They were evenly spaced out throughout your week, it wasn’t too often that it felt like you two were rushing back into being friends, but it wasn’t too scarce to leave you wanting more.
It was just perfect.
The striking difference now was that you were letting yourself fall for her. Every joke she made, every selfie she sent you, you took your time to admire her and let yourself fall even more.
Now that you were very much aware of your feelings, it didn’t feel right to continue what you had with Leila.
You loved her, but you must not have loved her enough because you were still able to think of another woman.
You ended it with Leila on a Tuesday. She didn't have a game until Sunday and you figured that was enough time for her to not be distracted. Surprisingly, Leila took it well, as if she knew this was coming all along.
And it felt like the universe was laughing at you, because after you broke up with Leila, you received a text from Alexia.
I’m getting married
You felt your heart drop. You had to put your phone back in your pocket because your hands were trembling badly.
You were suddenly desperate to do something, anything, before it was too late.
Even though a part of you felt like it was already too late.
Alexia arrived at the airport three hours early. She spent those three hours walking from one end to the other, flowers in hand. Her hands shaking and her mind racing with the thoughts of finally seeing you again.
She passed by the exact spot you said your goodbyes two years ago, both of you holding back your tears as you exchanged promises that things would be okay. The moment you walked away and went out of sight, Alexia finally let her tears fall, feeling that a part of her left alongside you.
In the middle of pacing around the airport, Olga called, and Alexia felt guilty because her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of you. She instantly buried the feeling of discomfort the moment Olga talked about their wedding.
Alexia was getting married to Olga. Her mind shouldn’t picture you the moment weddings are mentioned. She closed her eyes and bid Olga goodbye, not remembering what her fiancé called her about. 
You were her best friend. Nothing more. Why was it that even after years apart, her heart still ached and yearned for you?
Hours later, when you texted her to let her know that you’ve landed, Alexia made her way to the gate. She stood there, flowers tightly in hand, tapping her foot anxiously. 
You two had been slowly rebuilding your friendship. You texted each other, but never a phone call, and Alexia was nervous to hear your voice again after going such a long time without it.
Alexia was the first to spot you. You were dragging your suitcase, looking from side to side, as if urgently searching for something. And the moment your eyes found hers, your entire body lit up—the whole airport could tell that you finally found what you were looking for.
Everything drowned out and to Alexia nothing else seemed to matter anymore, her only focus was on you. On how your eyes shone with happiness and how your lips slowly curved into the smile that Alexia had missed so much. When you were finally in front of her, something clicked within her, and every hurt, every anger, every sadness she had felt because of you disappeared and she was left with the feeling of nothing but love and fondness for the girl standing in front of her. 
You were here and no matter how hard Alexia tried, she couldn’t feel half of what she felt with you with anyone else.
“Alexia, hi.”
Alexia didn’t say anything back, instead she immediately embraced you, hugging you with everything she had. She leaned down and buried her face in the crook of your neck, closing her eyes and squeezing you even more—just savoring the moment of finally having you there again. 
Alexia thought back to the last time she hugged you, trying to remember every single detail—from the way your arms were wrapped around Alexia’s neck, to the way your breath tickled her ear—trying to decide whether anything had changed. 
And when you kissed the side of Alexia’s head, laughing into her ears because she wouldn’t let go, Alexia decided that no matter how many years had passed and no matter how many arguments you two got into, your hug still felt the same.
Alexia,
The moment that has always replayed in my head for years is the night of your 18th birthday. We went to the beach after dinner and crashed someone’s party, and we both got really drunk. It was fun but the thing that made that night so memorable was because it was the first time someone kissed me and that person was you. 
The moment it happened, it felt like everything fell into place, you know? I understood why even my five year old self hated seeing you cry and just wanted to protect you from everything so you’ll never cry again. I understood why out of all the people in the room, my eyes always search for yours. I love you, Alexia. It’s always been you.
I was the happiest I’ve ever been that night. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world for being able to be in your arms.  
But when you woke up the next day saying that you wished that night never happened, it felt like the missing puzzle piece in my heart that you completed the night before disappeared again. 
Ever since then, I tried so hard to fill this gaping hole in my heart. I made it my life’s mission to go out there and meet the most perfect girl in the world just to try and replicate what I felt for you. But every time I’m with someone, every time I’m face to face with some perfect girl, your face appears and I’m reminded that they’re not you.
I love you, Alexia. I love you more with all the ups and downs we’ve had. I love every part of you and I love you with every beat of my heart.
I think I’ve always known that I was in love with you. I was just never brave enough to label it as that. So I didn’t. It wasn’t until recently that I realized: I couldn’t just sit here and watch you marry someone else.
You could call it selfish, but I wasn’t going to risk the slightest possibility of you feeling the same way that I do.
I know Olga loves you, but I also know that she’ll never love you as much as I do. 
To quote your favourite poet:
“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,    
so close that your eyes close with my dreams”
If you think that this is all wrong, please just ignore it, and I promise I’ll never talk about this again. But if you somehow feel the same, meet me at our usual spot at the beach tonight, 10 p.m.
Yours always, 
y/n
It wasn’t like you didn’t know this would happen. This was why you never wanted to risk your friendship because of some silly feelings. You knew Alexia wouldn’t feel the same, your confession would go to waste, and you would be sitting on the beach, alone at night, waiting for someone who was never going to show up.
You thought of calling Alexia, to ask her what she thought of your letter. But you decided against it, this was humiliating enough.
Maybe Alexia was embarrassed? Maybe she felt bad for you. Maybe she didn’t know how to talk to you now, knowing that you had all these feelings for her. Or maybe Alexia just didn’t want to talk to you anymore.
You let out a big sigh and buried your face in your hands. You didn’t know what you were thinking. All those years of friendship… that was all it was: friendship. You should’ve known.
You checked your phone again. Nothing. No texts or calls.
You let out a laugh. Alexia wasn’t stuck in traffic nor was she late, she was simply not coming.
Feeling your eyes start to well up with tears, you took a deep breath before standing up. You didn’t plan on going back to your parents’ house just yet, stupidly enough a part of you still had hope that Alexia was going to show up. You needed to walk around and distract yourself, sitting in the same spot that contained so many memories of her wasn’t helping.
You took another glance at your phone, and when there was still nothing, you wished your heart wasn’t so weak when it came to Alexia.
Alexia never believed in fate or anything.
To be fair, she was five years old and watching movies where the princess always ended up with the prince and lived happily ever after seemed too good to be true.
That was until she met you.
You, who had your little legs outstretched on the grass as you snack on your cookies. You, who didn’t hesitate to wipe away Alexia’s tears when she tripped on your legs. You, who kept on apologizing even though it wasn’t your fault that Alexia wasn’t looking at where she was going, but you were trying to make her feel better.
You had been a constant in her life ever since then, with your wise wisdoms and never-ending ability to make Alexia laugh.
Alexia then understood that fate and destiny really did exist, because it was fate that brought Alexia to the playground at that exact moment—at that exact second—so she could meet you.
When Alexia lost you, she didn’t want to believe in fate anymore, because why was the universe so cruel that it left her on the floor of her apartment, crying and begging for you to come back.
You disappeared from Alexia’s life and Alexia saw firsthand how the world became gloomier, how her days seemed to drag on longer without your presence. 
Just when Alexia completely lost all hope, the universe had other plans, and it was destiny that she left her phone in her hotel room that morning, because if she didn’t, her phone would be in her pocket as she was thrown to the swimming pool because Vicky and Esmee decided that playing a prank on their captain was a brilliant idea. Her phone would be ruined and she wouldn’t be greeted with a text message from you.
A simple text telling Alexia that you were proud of her, but it left her breathless because she hadn’t talked to you in a year. You two had no contact for a year, yet you were still proud of her. Like always.
Fate, destiny, the universe, and all of that had brought you to her, took you away, then brought you back.
It was also fate that made Alexia reach down into her purse and open the envelope you’d given her before parting ways earlier—something tugging in her heart, screaming at her to read the letter you wrote to her, even though she told herself that she would do it after you’ve left the city.
And sometimes, the universe had a sense of humour, because at that moment, as Alexia finished reading the last sentence of your handwriting, her fiancé appeared in the doorway of their shared bedroom.
“Alexia?”
“I’m sorry.”
The only thought Alexia had as she drove over the speed limit was to hope that you were still there, waiting for her. Just like what you had been doing all of these years.
All of those wasted years where you two could be together if it weren’t for the doubts that forbade you from truly loving each other the way you were meant to.
“You’ve always loved her more than anything, Alexia. Even when she’s a thousand miles away, even when you two weren’t on speaking terms… She’s still the one you love the most. I could never compete with her.”
From this whole thing, Alexia was just sorry that she had to drag someone else into her mess. She would never forgive herself for saying “yes” to someone, knowing that her heart wasn’t fully in it.
“Olga, I never meant to make you feel like you were at constant competition with her. I really do love you.”
“But not as much as you love her.”
“I never planned on staying in love with her forever, I really did try to love someone else—with you. And I did. All these years together, I meant everything I said and everything I did.”
“I’ve always known that she would always come first to you, yet I still convinced myself that that would change one day. I know it made me a shitty person, but I was happy when you fought with her, because I thought that was finally it, you know? Finally you’d move on from her. But not even the fall out made you love her any less.”
Alexia would take whatever life will throw at her for hurting someone so deeply like she did to Olga.
But the only thing she could do right now was to find you and hoped that you were the happy ending fate had in store for her. The happy ending she’d dreamt of all this time.
When Alexia couldn’t find you at the beach, she figured she was too late. She tried calling and texting, but you weren’t replying to any of it.
So she went to your parents’ place, taking a slight detour to your favourite florist, picking up the bouquet they had ready, not wanting to waste another second away from you. Alexia figured you must’ve left thinking that she was rejecting you. Even if Alexia wasn’t in love with you anymore, she wouldn't have just let you sit there all alone, fearing the worst. She needed you to know that.
Your childhood home was dark and quiet. All the lights were off and Alexia remembered that your parents were in Mollet del Vallés, visiting your grandparents.
You weren’t here but Alexia wasn’t going anywhere else. She would just be there and wait for you—she had waited decades for you, a few hours would mean nothing. She sat down on the pavement, not caring how dirty her jeans were going to be, and pulled out her phone from her pocket. She called the only person she could think of.
It took a few more tries for Mapi to pick up, and once the call got connected, Alexia spoke into the phone, “I have a problem.” 
Mapi’s voice was groggy. “It’s midnight, you dumbass. Can you call me later?”
“No, this is urgent.”
Alexia can feel Mapi roll her eyes on the other end of the line, “When Ingrid kills me for being too noisy and waking her up, I’m blaming it on you.”
“Well, in that case, I hope she does wake up then.”
“Tonta.”
“María,” Alexia let out a tired exhale. “Do you know where Y/n is?”
Mapi groaned in reply. “Estúpida. I was asleep, how should I know?”
Alexia pressed her hand over her eyes and groaned, “I think I screwed up.”
Just when Alexia was about to elaborate further, even though she knew Mapi was half asleep, someone called out her name. Someone whose voice sounded exactly like you.
“Ale?” 
Alexia quickly opened her eyes. It really was you.
“Y/n.”
And there you were, standing in front of Alexia, head cocked to the side as if trying to figure out why Alexia was sitting there in front of your house at midnight.
Alexia quickly put her phone back to her ear, “Uhm, I���ll call you back—Tomorrow. I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight, María.” As soon as she ended the call, she quickly stood up.
Your arms were crossed over your chest, you were making yourself smaller, you looked so unsure of yourself that Alexia wanted nothing but to hug you and tell you that she loved you more than she’d ever loved anyone.
But all you had was apprehension written all over your face. Alexia understood. You must’ve thought that by her not showing up, Alexia didn’t feel the way you did. “What are you doing here?”
Alexia gulped. Now that you were in front of her, Alexia didn’t know what to say. “Did we really kiss on my 18th birthday?” Alexia blurted out.
“What?” You were confused and still reeling from the embarrassment of the whole thing. You couldn’t process what she said.
“I don’t remember it,” Alexia continued. “I swear. I swear on Messi.”
“What?” Your tone was full of surprise. “You don’t remember?” 
“No,” Alexia sighed, looking at you wistfully. “I would never stop talking about it if I did.”
You went silent for a few seconds, your face full of confusion. Alexia let you take it all in. “You don’t remember,” you stated in a questioning tone. “But you said you wished it never happened.”
“I couldn’t have said that, because I don’t remember—”
“Oh my god, you don’t remember?” It was like you finally realized what that meant. “Oh my god,” you groaned, placing your hands over your face. “I spent years thinking—I convinced myself that I wasn’t in love with you because you rejected me—”
“I didn’t!” Alexia interjected. “I would never– I was so hopelessly in love with you.”
You looked at her and your face turned paler if that was even possible. Your mouth agape, as if you wanted to say something but you couldn’t. How could you? When your best friend was telling you that she—
“Wait,” you realized something. “Did you say ‘was’? As in past tense?” You felt the hope that grew plummet to the bottom of the stomach. You knew it was too good to be true. “Is that why you didn’t meet me earlier?”
“No… No, Y/n, I read your letter too late. I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I would’ve dropped everything in a heartbeat to get to you.”
“Oh.” 
Suddenly you were laughing. Your laughter echoing throughout the empty neighbourhood. Alexia stared at you, unsure of what this meant but she couldn’t help the growing happiness in her heart with every laugh that escaped your lips. “I should’ve just texted you, right? I wanted to be romantic with the letter.”
Alexia shot you a comforting smile. At least fate brought you both here, to this moment.
After your laughter died down, you took a hesitant step forward. “But… do you really feel… the way that I do?”
Alexia sighed, being the one to close the gap between you and took your hands in hers. “If my years and years of pining weren't obvious, I feel the same. I’m in love with you. I still am. I never stopped, if we’re being honest. I broke things off with Olga, it wasn’t right to stay with her if my heart belonged to someone else. She deserves way better than some girl who was too much of a coward to confess that she’s in love with her best friend and ended up stringing her along for years, knowing that she would never love her the same.”
“So you…” you were at loss for words.
“I’m sorry, Y/n,” Alexia continued. “This whole thing is a mess. I need to cancel my wedding preparations, I have to talk to a lot of people, but the only thing I know right now is that… I can’t let you go again. You’re my soulmate, I’m sure of it. I’ve been sure of it ever since we were kids. I won’t love someone as much and as deeply as I love you. So… yeah.”
You didn’t reply to Alexia’s statement, instead you placed one hand on the back of Alexia’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Once your lips met, Alexia’s mind went to two things: how she never wanted to kiss anyone else in her life and how exactly did she forget your soft lips when they tasted like heaven? 
Alexia’s hands wandered to rest on your neck, caressing the smooth skin that felt electric under her touch. Alexia’s mind was full with thoughts of you. Your lips on hers. Your hands around her waist. Your perfume engulfing her. Your nose brushing against hers. Your laugh vibrating against her lips.
Your lips curved upwards into a grin and Alexia could taste the happiness on your lips. She leaned forward once more for a peck on your smile and when you scrunch your nose in response, Alexia pressed another kiss to the tip of your nose. 
“That was… everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” Alexia hoped that you couldn’t hear how erratic her heart was beating. 
“We can take things slow,” you whispered against her lips.
“I’ve waited my whole life for you, I don’t want to take it slow,” Alexia whispered back. “But… I agree. We don’t have to rush this. We have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time.”
Suddenly your eyes drifted to the flowers on the pavement, raising your eyes at that. “Is that supposed to be for me?”
Alexia’s eyes widened when she realized the discarded flowers, quickly taking them and shoving them to you. “Uhm. Yes. These… these are for you.”
“They’re beautiful,” you replied, taking the flowers from her but your gaze never leaving her face. “Thank you.”
She pouted when she realized you hadn’t even glanced at it. “You didn’t even look at it!”
You grinned at her, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around her waist. Your face back in its favourite spot against her neck. “I bet they’re beautiful, just like you.”
“Okay, flirt.” 
Alexia quickly stepped back when she noticed that the flowers were squeezed in between you two. “You’re ruining my flowers.”
“I’m not,” you scoffed. You looked down and scrunched your nose at the sight. At least they still had the beautiful pink colour intact, your favourite. “Okay, kind of. But that was your fault.”
Alexia took your hand that wasn’t holding the flower and brought it to her lips for a kiss. “How was it my fault?” 
“I couldn’t resist hugging you.”
Alexia laughed and wrapped her arms around your shoulder. Swaying you side to side and sighing in content. Everything felt good. It felt like everything had fallen into place.
“Now you’re ruining the flowers even more!” your voice muffled with the way your face was squeezed into Alexia’s neck.
“I’ll get you new ones, mi amor. In fact, I’ll get you the whole shop.”
You laughed into her neck, placing a gentle kiss there. “I’m holding you on to that.”
Alexia hummed. “I love you, cariño. I missed you so much.”
“Me too,” you replied. 
“Say it back,” Alexia prodded, placing her cheek on the top of your head.
“Huh?”
“I… love… you.” Alexia said slowly.
Alexia felt your giggles tickle her neck.
“Princessa, say it back.”
“You already know the answer anyway.”
“Mi vida.”
“Alexia. I love you too.”
Alexia did know the answer—she had heard you say it a million times over and over. Despite that, Alexia still wanted to hear it a million times more.
Alexia had been to Manchester before but it was still hard to keep up with how busy the airport was. She couldn’t spot you—not at first. All she could see was people rushing to get somewhere despite it being the early hours of the morning. 
Alexia dragged her luggage to a secluded corner and pulled out her phone to give you a call. She put her phone to her ear and kept on looking around while waiting for you to pick up.
It was on the second ring when Alexia spotted you. You were sandwiched between people and you looked so small that Alexia would’ve missed you if she didn’t see the giant flower bouquet you were holding. 
Once you answered the call, Alexia laughed into the speaker, feeling her heart grow ten times bigger with the amount of love she felt for you. Alexia still couldn’t believe she was finally here, just a few steps away from the person she had missed so much.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because,” Alexia sighed in content. How did she spend so long convincing herself that she would be fine settling for someone other than you? “That bouquet is way bigger than you.”
As soon as Alexia said that, she saw you move your head in all directions trying to locate her. “You’re here. Where are you?”
“I am here.” Alexia stated, enjoying how clueless you looked. 
“Alexia.” 
“You always complain about how tall I am, how can you not see me?” Alexia kept her eyes on you—from your furrowed eyebrows to the small pout on your lips, one hand holding your phone to your ear and the other holding the flowers. She laughed even more when you kept on whining and your pout kept getting bigger as each second passed.
“You are annoying,” you groaned. “Can you just tell me where you are? I’m hungry.”
“Not because you miss me?” Alexia teased. “You only want me because I spoil you with lots of food.”
“Yes, that’s true!” you laughed. “So hurry up and tell me where you are so we can get food, Alexia Putellas Segura.”
“Ooh she’s using my full name now.” 
“It’s because I’m getting impatient!”
Alexia laughed, finally dragging her luggage and walking towards your direction.
Once she was behind you, Alexia ended the call and tapped your shoulder, making you jump slightly. Alexia chuckled to herself at how ridiculous she was for finding everything you did adorable.
You immediately turned around and once recognition settled in, you squealed and jumped to hug her. “Alexia! You’re blonde again!”
“Mi amor! I missed you.” 
When you broke apart, Alexia’s eyes started to well with tears. You were finally in front of her, smiling at her with your big smile and sparkly eyes. Two months without having you near felt so long.
“Baby,” you cooed. “Why are you crying?” 
“Just emotional,” Alexia squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears from escaping. “I missed your stupid face.”
“No one will be able to guess that you're the crybaby in this relationship.”
Alexia scowled at you. She would never admit that she cried more than you. Besides, no one would be able to verify this fact because she never cried in front of anyone, except you. “I am not.”
“Sure. Can we get that breakfast now?”
Looking at you behind your big flower bouquet, Alexia felt breathless, only because she still couldn’t believe that you were hers. At the same time though, she felt like she was able to properly breathe again, because you were finally back in her arms.
“Hey, Ale?”
“Yeah?”
You sat on the passenger seat, absentmindedly playing with Alexia’s hand that wasn’t holding the steering wheel.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”
Alexia gave you a side glance. “Are you questioning my driving abilities? When it was me who drove you around most of your life.”
“Maybe,” you kissed the back of Alexia’s hand. “You’ve never driven outside of Spain before. I’m kind of scared right now. For my life and for my brand new car.”
Alexia laughed, “Driving is the same everywhere, amor.”
“Fine,” you leaned over the console and pressed a kiss to Alexia’s cheek. “I trust you.”
Alexia scrunched her nose in response. “Stop kissing me and tell me where I should go next instead.”
“Just keep on going straight,” you responded. “Then turn left.”
“Now?”
“Are you seeing any left turns right now?”
“You just told me to turn left,” Alexia whined. “You’re such a bad navigator.”
“You should’ve let me drive.”
“You must be tired from work,” Alexia let go of her hand that was in your grip to caress your face. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”
You looked at Alexia, taking the her hand in yours again. “So thoughtful, always a gentlewoman. Thank you, Ale.”
“I am thoughtful huh.”
You poked your tongue out at her in response. “I should stop before your ego gets too big.”
Alexia grinned at you. “I think my ego has been big ever since I knew I was your first kiss.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re my first kiss, Alexia Putellas Segura. Just like I am yours.”
“The one I don’t have a single memory of,” Alexia noted. “How could you let me forget what would be the most meaningful experience of my life?”
“It’s not my fault you’re a lightweight,” you pinched Alexia’s cheeks to which the blonde laughed in response. “But hey, at least I tried to remind you of that night, didn’t I? About a thousand times these past few days if I remember correctly.”
Alexia hummed in thought, puckering her lips. “I think I need the reminder once again.” 
You giggled and kissed the palm of Alexia’s hand instead. “Later at home, okay? I can’t have you crashing my car.”
“I’d like that.” Alexia took a quick glance at you and smiled—one that reached her eyes, one that showed you just how happy she was. 
But you were suddenly thinking of home and how you used it to describe your Manchester apartment, even though you never thought of it that way. That was, until Alexia came to visit, leaving her things scattered around like she always did in your old place in Barcelona.
You yearned for days like this, with Alexia driving you back home, eating takeout on the couch as you watched a football match you couldn’t care less about. You let Alexia talk your ear off, giving her commentary on the game, you nodding along like you were totally invested in it too.
Home. 
Manchester had never felt like home. It was an apartment with all of your things, where you slept and showered and ate, but you never considered it to be your home.
Alexia visited one day and changed the meaning of the place entirely.
You lived here for years without Alexia, but you couldn’t imagine it without her anymore. 
You looked at your best friend as she sang along to a Spanish song, she was so off-key. A grin instantly made its way to your lips.
Home was wherever Alexia was. 
It was a no-brainer, really.
There was no reason to stay in Manchester when your heart lived in Barcelona.
It had been on your mind since you had to leave Alexia again as you boarded the plane back to Manchester a few months ago. It was the only thing you could think of as you waved goodbye to Alexia as she went back to Barcelona, her black cap and sunglasses covering her face, but you could tell there were tears running down her cheeks.
You knew she was scared that history would repeat itself and you two would argue again. But you also knew that it was different this time. There were no uncertain feelings in your chest, no other girl next to Alexia making you feel replaced. You were certain of your love for Alexia.
But it was time to come home. You knew that the moment Alexia kissed you for the second time.
You hadn’t told Alexia, but you were planning on coming back in a couple of months. You wanted it to be a surprise.
But the night before Alexia left, as you savoured the feeling of her pressed up against you, you came to the conclusion that you need to come back to Barcelona sooner than planned.
Having Alexia next to you felt so good. You missed it a lot. You knew you couldn’t stand even another month being away from her, so you changed your entire timeline and decided to move it up so you were coming back in two weeks.
You had a lot on your to-do list. It was a hassle to move away from the place you’ve lived in for years. It was even harder when you wanted to do it within a few weeks.
Alexia thought it was starting again—the space between you.
You didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
“Ale, you're just being a distraction right now.”
Which was true—you had less time to reply to texts and calls in between trying to get rid of your furniture and trying to cut your lease short—but Alexia didn't know that so it wasn’t the right word to use.
Out of context, it sounded harsh, and you figured you could’ve said it better. 
Alexia ended the call abruptly and ignored all your texts for the rest of the day. 
Turns out, Alexia decided to ignore you for a whole week. It was understandable, you royally screwed up, but the only thing that kept you from flying to Barcelona as soon as you figured out she was ignoring you was the thought that you were coming back soon. For good.
You left Manchester and years worth of memories behind on a Monday. Your parents welcomed you back with open arms and you spent the night eating your mother’s home cooked meal.
The next day, you knew Alexia had training until noon. So you went to a florist, bought the biggest bouquet of Alexia’s favourite flowers, and you met up with a Barcelona staff member with clear instructions that he was to give it to Alexia. And to make sure that she actually read the note attached to it.
Alexia, my love
Meet me at our spot at 4pm
You’re going to be done by that time, so you better show up
Yours,
y/n
You sat at your usual spot by the beach, the same spot where you got your heart broken a few months ago when Alexia didn’t show up. This time, instead of waiting for Alexia with dread and a heavy heart, all you felt was excitement at getting to see her again. 
This time, you knew that Alexia loved you too and you didn’t have to worry about her not showing up.
Alexia loved you too and you weren't going to let her go. It was that thought that kept on repeating in your head, the one that propelled you to leave Manchester behind and come back to Barcelona. As much as you loved it over there, you knew it would never beat the feeling of having Alexia next to you. 
You couldn’t wait to be with Alexia. Really be with her, not through a phone screen where her sleeping face would disappear once her phone ran out of battery.
“Amor?”
You craned your head as soon as you heard that voice. Alexia was still as beautiful as ever, despite only wearing some sweatpants and a hoodie that she stole from you when you were still in high school. 
“Hi.” Alexia put her hand up in a little wave. You smiled because Alexia looked so nervous, it was adorable. 
You stood up and walked towards her slowly, your face still amused at the way she was biting her lips—a nervous habit of hers. When you were inches apart you spoke, “Hi back. Why do you look so nervous?”
Alexia’s eyes drifted anywhere but you. “I’m not nervous.”
“You totally are,” you said, trying to catch her eyes. “Can I hug you?”
Alexia finally returned your stare and once your eyes met, Alexia’s entire posture softened and she leaned forward to engulf you in a hug.
“I missed you,” Alexia exhaled deeply. “It’s only been a few weeks but I missed you.”
You wrapped your arms around her neck, whispering that you missed her too. You breathed in her familiar scent and sighed. You felt at home.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Alexia said once you broke apart.
You shrugged. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Well, I am very surprised.” Alexia took your hands in hers. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“Can I kiss you now? Or are you still too nervous to do that?” you asked, your tone teasing. “ I can’t have you passing out on me.”
Alexia rolled her eyes, a small smile on her lips. “I’m not nervous.”
“So can I kiss you or not?” you asked once more, a grin on her face.
“Of course you can.”
And that was all you needed before you leaned forward and captured her lips with yours.
You kissed your girlfriend gently, you kissed her slowly while trying to convey just how much you missed her—how lonely your nights were without her to cuddle you to sleep and how cold your mornings were without her warm smile.
And when Alexia traced your bottom lip with her tongue, you couldn’t comprehend how fast your heart was beating. After countless kisses, you still felt the same way you did when Alexia first kissed you at eighteen—all fluttery as a thousand butterflies rummaged around your stomach.
Alexia’s lips on yours felt tingly, and Alexia’s hands that were caressing your waist felt like they had belonged there all along.
When you broke apart, Alexia’s hands stayed where they were, her forehead resting against yours while you both tried to catch your breath.
“I love you,” Alexia whispered. “I know I say that a lot, but I mean it every time.”
You hummed, your lips curling up into a smile. “I love you too.”
“I’m sorry, cariño, for ignoring you. I was just… sad, I guess.”
“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have called you a distraction.”
“It’s just–” Alexia sighed, she was really beating herself up over this. “You’re supposed to tell me if you’re unhappy. I’m your girlfriend.”
You immediately shake your head. “I’m not unhappy—I could never be unhappy with you.”
“Then?”
You took a deep breath before continuing, “You were a distraction, but only because—Ale?”
Alexia blinked back, as if she didn’t quite understand what you said. She took a step away from your touch and turned her back towards you.
You were confused for a moment before you remembered how much of an overthinker she was.
“Ale. Baby,” you gently placed your hands on her shoulders and turned her around. Your heart broke at the sight of Alexia’s furrowed brows and the slight tremble in her bottom lips.
“Are you—Did you come back to break up with me?”
“Of course not,” you laughed. “Alexia—”
“Don’t—” Alexia tried to turn back around and leave, but you quickly grabbed her arms to prevent her from leaving.
“Alexia,” your hand travelled down to her hands, intertwining them with yours. “Look at me.”
You could see tears starting to well in her and you sighed at how much she resembled a kicked puppy. “Baby,” you cooed. “It’s nothing bad, c’mon, please don’t cry.”
“It’s not?” Alexia whispered out.
“No,” you flashed her a comforting smile. “I would never break up with you, you should know that by now.”
“Oh,” Alexia looked down, sniffling. “Then why? I’m a distraction to you?”
You lifted Alexia’s chin up with your finger. “Moving across countries isn’t an easy thing to do, you know. I have to talk to the hospital about my contract, I have to talk to my agent about my lease, I have to sell all my furniture, I have to meet with my friends to say goodbye—”
“What—”
“That’s why you were kind of distracting me, because I need to get a lot of things done if I want to come home to my girlfriend as soon as possible.”
When realization dawned on Alexia, her eyes widened and you laughed at how comical she looked. Alexia placed her hand on your mouth, muffling your laughs. “Stop laughing at me. You’re coming back?”
You took Alexia’s hand away from your mouth and grinned at her. Alexia’s eyebrows were raised, her face expectant as she waited for an answer.
You smiled fondly at her expressions before you answered her question with a kiss.
One second into the kiss, a giggle escaped your mouth, causing Alexia to break you apart, narrowing her eyes at your interruption. “Sorry, you were just too adorable.”
“Glad to know you think me crying is adorable.”
You placed a kiss on her cheek. “I don’t like seeing you cry but I wasn’t even breaking up with you, you big baby.”
“You’re so mean,” Alexia pouted. “But you’re really coming back? For good?”
“I am. I can’t be apart from you anymore. I love you and I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night.”
“Cheesy.”
You scrunched up your nose. “Shut up. I’m trying to be cute.”
“So… will you be asking me to move in with you then?”
“Well…” you gave a sheepish grin. “I was hoping you would be the one to ask me that, since I don’t exactly have a place here anymore. Unless you want to move in with my parents, that’s okay too.”
Alexia laughed and pecked your lips. You felt warm all over. “Let’s go look for a new place. My place is too small for all our kids anyway.”
“Kids?” you looked at Alexia with wide eyes. “Alexia. Did you skip the entire wedding?”
Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you close. “I’m talking about Nala. And Mr. Oreo, your stinky cat. Add Vicky, Jana, Esmee to the list too.”
You slapped Alexia’s arm in response. “You scared me there for a second. We need to get married first, you know. No skipping a chapter.”
Alexia laughed, kissing the top of your head. You looked at her and the sight of your girlfriend with a big smile and eyes that displayed so much happiness gave you the sudden urge to kiss her again. So you did.
With the feeling of Alexia smiling against your lips, you knew that no matter where life takes you, you’d always come home to her.
Y/n,
I still remember the moment you left to go to Manchester. I remember watching you leave and I remember feeling so helpless because I knew that things would change. I saw you walk away and I have never wanted to scream your name so badly—just so you would look at me one last time. But I didn’t. 
I didn’t, because you were off to do amazing things and I couldn’t keep you here as much as I wanted to. And because a part of me felt relieved that we’d be spending less time together because it would give me the time I needed to move on from you.
It worked for a while. My heart didn’t break into pieces every time I saw you and Leila on social media, and my heart didn’t feel like it’s being squeezed every time you talked about her.
My daydreams about you stopped, I didn’t hear your laugh in the back of my head at random times of the day anymore. I thought that was it. I was moving on, and I started to swallow the bitter truth that we weren’t meant to be together.
But then one night you called me. It was in the middle of the night and you couldn’t stop laughing because of a joke you just thought of. You asked if I was asleep, and I knew you’d tell me to go back to sleep if I said yes, so I lied. Only because I missed your voice and because hearing your laugh again after so long made my heart feel whole again when I didn’t even realize it had a missing piece.
I realized that, no matter how hard I try to convince myself, I would never love anyone as much as I love you.
I started to spend each night cursing at the stars, being angry and asking why the universe gave you to me, but at the same time, never letting me completely have you. 
I settled for someone else because I thought that you’d never look at me the way I looked at you. I loved someone else and their name tasted just fine on my lips but I kept on wishing that it was your name that I was whispering into the dark nights instead. And I had to come to terms that I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life with you in the way that I’d hoped, so I said ‘yes’ to someone else.
But things happened, and I found out that you had been looking at me the same way all along—hidden glances, longing gazes, the desperate yearning to know how it feels like to love each other in ways no one but us can understand.
You’re my best friend, Y/n. You’re the bestest friend I’ve ever had and now, instead of cursing at the stars, I thank them each night because the universe gave you to me and now I have the chance to be able to love and admire every part of you.
Now your name is the only one I’d whisper into the nights—the nights where it’s just us two and your face that’s illuminated by the moonlight is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Now you’re the person I said ‘yes’ to because you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.
It’s been a journey, hasn’t it? I never would have thought that we’d be here, and that in a few hours I’d get to call you my wife. 
I love you, mi amor. I have loved you since I was five and didn’t know anything about the world. I have loved you when we were apart, when nothing else was left to say between us, when the mornings without your texts turned my world darker.
And I have loved you when we’re together, when I look to the side and you’re always there next to me, when your hands feel like they’re my long-lost limb—your hands holding mine, your hands around my waist, your hands tangled through my hair, your hands around my neck, your hands holding me at night when it’s quiet except for the sound of your heart beating in sync with mine.
I have loved you for so long that it’s now a part of me and I know that I would never go a day without loving you.
And despite knowing you for most of my life, I still get nervous around you. So I’m writing this letter in case I couldn’t blurt out my vows because of how you’d be looking at me—as if I’m the only star in your sky. I hope that by reading this, you know just how much I love you and how I don’t ever plan to stop.
You make me the happiest. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that you’re the happiest too.
I’ll see you in a few hours. Can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle :)
Yours forever and ever and ever, 
Alexia
----
a/n: thank you for reading. this is my longest fic yet, please let me know your thoughts!<3
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ivy-elle · 3 days ago
Text
"What are you even talking about?"
Or: How they react to you being overly intoxicated aka drunk af
Feat. Albedo, Scaramouche
Notes: No mentions of vomiting, do not worry
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“You… are like totally the most beautiful being on this earth. How is that even legal?”
Your drunk-hazed gaze looks up at him, an admiring, nearly even mesmerised expression on your face.
Albedo stifles a surprised laugh behind a cough, his fist concealing his soft smile. “Thank you, y/n. Why don’t you sit down first?”
Obediently, you follow along as he gently guides you to the couch, the slight grin not wanting to leave your face. Even less, when he crouches down in front of you, studying you with intent focus. He can’t help the slight concern slipping into his expression as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face.
Meanwhile, you seem to have the time of your life with him being so close to you, with his gentle touch, like you’re something delicate.
How is it even real that you are able to call him your friend – let alone your partner. Like, your very own!
Just the way his crystal-like eyes follow yours, his shimmering hair catching the faint light of the room, down to how pretty his lips move when he speaks…
Wait. Right. He speaks. Listen.
Focus.
Right.
“If you’re able to eat right now, I suggest getting some carbohydrates into your system, my love,” he explains, gently tilting your face. “That way we can nudge your blood level back to normal again.”
You barely contain a silly giggle at his tender touch. “I’d eat straight-up eat wheat right now if you asked me to.”
Albedo nods, very slowly, his brows furrowing as he ponders about how to handle this situation best. “I see. Well, that’s not quite what I had in mind.” And yet, a part of him can’t help but be fascinated by your responses. “Would you be satisfied with some toast instead?”
You hum airily, but the moment he lifts himself up you feel your face fall into a pout, immediately missing his warmth.
“Wait,” you quickly try to prevent him from leaving. “On second thought – I am not even that hungry. You can keep staying here. Sitting.”
“I will remain here.” He slips his fingers from yours, a smile tugging his lips. “See? I am just across the room.” You should eat something to prevent some serious hungover.”
You watch him quietly, nearly enchanted by his smooth movements as he prepares some snacks, listening to his soothing voice. Has he always had this effect on you? You can’t tell. You can’t even care less right now.
“Personally, I’ve never experienced a hangover myself, but it starts right after the alcohol level in your blood starts to drop. And given your state…” He offers you a plate with some fresh toast and light fruits, “I presume it’s best to take precautions now.”
“Thank you,” you murmur fondly, accepting the plate. To your relief, Albedo joins you on the couch.
“Slowly. Take your time.”
“Maybe I was starving a bit. Archons, this is good.”
Albedo chuckles softly, gently taking your hand in his. You feel his thumb lightly tracing along your wrist before it settles on your pulse.
Your turn toward him, tilting your head in confusion. “I am still alive. I think.”
His eyes crinkle, soft musing laced in his voice. “Yes, I can see that, my love. I am merely checking your heart rate.”
Albedo looks you over and the moment your eyes meet his again, you feel your heart rate slightly quicken beneath his fingers.
His frown turns into a soft smile. “You’re feeling alright?”
“If you keep touching me this way, I’ll feel even better.” You hum, your eyes drifting to his lips.
But before you can follow your impulses, Albedo draws back, gently pushing you back by your shoulder. “Forgive me, love, but I’d rather you be sober first.”
Now you can’t help but pout, your face scrunching up. “That’s a bit excessive.”
Amused but persisting, he shakes his head, but not before leaning in and to place a soft kiss on your temple.
“Eat up. I’ll set up some tea and antidote for your headache.”
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“I see you’ve lost your mind entirely,” Scaramouche remarks dryly as he halts at the doorway.
“Shhh. I need to focus,” you murmur, not even bothering to look up from where you’re lying on the ground. The room is cloaked in darkness - all windows are drawn shut to prevent any lights from falling inside, and disturbing work of art.
Scaramouche’s gaze darts to the perfectly good bed right beside you. Why, in Teyvat’s name, would you prefer the cold, hard floor? Hasn’t his day been eventful enough as it is already?
“Look at this,” you whisper again, and Scaramouche raises an eyebrow as your Electro Vision flickers to life again. His eyes follow your gaze to the ceiling, where charged threads of Electro dance in a chaotic disorder, illuminating the room in soft purple light. But your attention is glued on the lights, absolutely fascinated by this spectacle.
He steps closer, a pinched expression on his face. “Why don’t you-“
Before he can finish, you reach out, snatching his wrist and pulling him down next to you.
“Look!” you repeat once more.
Obviously, you’re only able to actually move him, because he lets you. But he does not lay down on the ground – who do you think he is? Instead, he crouches down next to you, fixing you with a look, like you’ve lost it entirely. His eyes narrow as he notices your abnormally flushed face, grasping that something is not quite right with you.
But you’re completely ignoring his unsettled expression, rather lifting your hand again to tilt his chin upward, directing his to the ceiling. “Listen to the sky, Scara,” you explain in a tone like it’s supposed to clear up everything.
Listen to the sky?
Scaramouche’s eyes dart down to you again, irritation building up inside him now. He dislikes this - having you physically here, but at the same time you not acting like yourself.
“What the hell is going on with you?”
Your eyebrows scrunch up as you turn your head toward him, like you’re pouting that he isn’t taking your lightning show as serious as he should. “You’re always complaining how fake the sky of Teyvat is. So, I recreated it. Now you have your own. Or, my own. Like – ours, I guess.”
For the sake of his pride, Scaramouche quickly schools his face. A strange combination of confusion, irritation and at the same time a strange warmth settles in his chest. His eyes flicker over your slightly dazed features.
“You’re drunk,” he states flatly, trying to sound unbothered.
For that he earns yet another. “Shhh!” This time a small, but sheepish grin tugs at your lips.
For a moment his eyes linger on you, before he tears them away, letting his gaze return to the ceiling. Now that he’s seeing the purple mist of electro from this angle, your perspective…
“How fake can it be, if I created it myself?”
At the sound of your gentle whisper, he feels his resolve weakening, eyes flickering between the charged branches, now finally taking form on the ceiling.
You created … a sky. For him alone.
Then, even softer, as if to not drive him away, you add, “Sometimes you need to be a bit intoxicated to see the world differently.”
Scaramouche stretches his legs out, leaning back on his elbows. “The ground was the best solution you had?” But there is no real bite in his voice, he is way too immersed in the little universe you’ve created in the room.
For him, his own Electro Delusion has always been nothing more than a tool – a means to gain power. To destroy. Yet, here you are again, showing him the other side of the coin, proving, that in destruction lies its own universe of creation.
“You smell nice,” he hears you mutter suddenly, breaking him through his trails of thoughts.
Of course, you’d say something like this right now. Without looking at you, He doesn’t look at you the corner of his mouth twitches. “I know. You, on the other hand, have had better days.”
You gasp, pushing him away lightly. “Rude! I do not smell bad!”
“You reek of alcohol. It’s onerous.”
He hears you grumble something incoherent under your breath, slurring the words into a mess.
Unimpressed, he clicks his tongue. “Consequences of your own actions.”
But as you shift to stand back up, the electro particles above start to dissolve as well. Almost immediately, his hand grabs your wrist, holding you close. “Stay down.”
You stare at him. Then you blink once. Twice. And then a shit-eating-grin spreads on your lips. “Oho! So, you do like my sky. Ha!”
A scoff escapes him as he tries to act nonchalant and averts his eyes back to the ceiling. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I simply prefer not having you stumbling around the room like a drunk sailor, just because you don’t know your limits. Which seem to be quite low.”
You sit back down, not without grouching a quiet “Jerk.”
“Idiot.”
The two of you glare at each other, daring the other to say something. Eventually, you relent, rising your hands and bringing the lighting to life once more.
Scaramouche remains quiet, savouring your presence for a second longer. Before he looks back at the stars again.
Who needs a fake sky, if a whole universe is right there beside him already?
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Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3
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pucksandpower · 2 days ago
Text
Malfunction
Franco Colapinto x physician!Reader
Summary: Franco’s concussion has come and gone, but his desire to see the angel of a physician who likely saved his life has only gotten stronger … it’s just a shame that he tends to lose any semblance of composure when you’re around
Note: this is the much requested second part to Malpractice … but even better than the first part if I do say so myself 🫣
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The Las Vegas Grand Prix is a distant blur in Franco’s memory. The crash. The pain. The disorientation.
But there’s something else that lingers, too. Something soft that refuses to leave him alone.
It’s the image of you, kneeling in front of him, your hands steady even as his world spun. Your voice cutting through the haze, your gaze sharp and intense, demanding his attention. The way you pushed him to stay alert, to pay attention, to focus on something other than the chaos in his head.
Franco knows he owes his sanity, maybe even his life, to you.
It’s been a week since the crash, and he’s been cleared by the medical team to race again in Qatar, despite a lingering headache that’s been stubbornly hanging on. But it’s not the headache that’s bothering him. It’s the fact that you’re not here. You’re not at the track. Not in the garage. Not hovering over him like some kind of guardian angel.
He wants to see you again. Needs to.
He’s sitting in the Williams debrief room, surrounded by engineers who are talking a mile a minute about tire wear and lap times. But Franco is barely listening. He keeps checking his phone, hoping for some sort of miracle: a text, a call, anything that might tell him you’re here. That you’ve returned to the paddock.
But the screen stays empty.
“Franco, are you with us?” James Vowles’ voice cuts through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.
“Yeah, sorry,” Franco mutters, rubbing his eyes. “What were you saying about tire strategy?”
James raises an eyebrow. “It’s fine. Focus on your recovery. We’re just going over the data from today’s practice. You’ve got time. But-” He looks around, making sure no one else is listening, “-don’t be distracted during qualifying tomorrow. We need every bit of performance we can get from you this weekend.”
“Right.” Franco nods, but his mind drifts again, his gaze slipping back to his phone. It’s like the rhythm of the weekend has been broken without you here, without the sharpness of your voice telling him he’s being an idiot, without your soft, steady presence making everything feel a little more manageable.
A soft knock sounds at the door, and Alex steps in, his casual smile immediately making the room feel a little lighter. His eyes flicker over to Franco. “How’s it going, mate?”
Franco immediately perks up. “Alex! You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He straightens up in his chair, suddenly interested in the conversation.
Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that because you’ve missed me, or because I bring good news?”
“Both,” Franco grins. “But seriously, I’ve been thinking about something, and I need your help.”
Alex folds his arms, giving Franco a knowing look. “Uh oh. What have you gotten yourself into now?”
“It’s about Y/N,” Franco says, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t seem too surprised. He sighs, already knowing where this is headed. “Ah, I should’ve known.”
“No, listen,” Franco presses, his voice a little more serious. “I need her to come to Abu Dhabi. She has to be there. I-” He pauses, trying to put his feelings into words. “I’ve been thinking about her all week. I just … I need to see her again.”
Alex raises both hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You want me to convince her to come to a race just so you can see her again?”
Franco shrugs, looking entirely unapologetic. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
Alex shakes his head, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. “You really have it bad, don’t you?”
Franco hesitates, his smile faltering just slightly, then nods. “I do.” His expression softens. “She helped me when I didn’t even know what was happening. I’ve never had someone take care of me like that.”
Alex takes a moment, studying Franco’s face, then lets out a long breath. “Look, I can’t make any promises. Y/N’s a resident physician. Her schedule is insane. She barely has time to breathe, let alone fly out to the Middle East for a race. But-” He hesitates, as if weighing his next words carefully. “But I’ll ask her. I’ll see what I can do. But no promises, okay?”
“Just ask,” Franco says urgently. “I don’t care if it’s a long shot. I need her there.”
Alex chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll ask. But you owe me a beer if this works.”
“You got it,” Franco grins, already feeling the relief of having put his request into motion. “Thanks.”
***
It’s late by the time you’re wrapping up your shift at the hospital. The weight of your scrubs feels heavier than usual tonight, your body aching after hours of rounds and consultations. You’ve barely slept all week, the demands of your residency taking up every last ounce of energy. All you want to do now is crash into bed and forget about the world for a few hours.
But then your phone buzzes in your pocket, and the familiar name on the screen makes you stop in your tracks.
Alex.
You sigh, glancing around the empty hallway before answering. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”
“Hey,” Alex greets you, his tone casual but there’s a hint of something else in his voice. “How’s it going?”
You roll your eyes, leaning against the wall. “You know, same old. Patients, paperwork, more patients. I swear, I’m starting to see people’s illnesses in my dreams at this point. What’s up?”
“Well, funny you should mention that,” Alex says with a chuckle, “because I’ve got a bit of a favor to ask.”
You brace yourself. “What now?”
“I need you to come to Abu Dhabi.”
There’s a beat of silence. “What? No. I can’t just drop everything and fly to Abu Dhabi. You know how insane my schedule is right now.”
“I know, I know,” Alex says quickly. “But listen, it’s not for me. It’s for Franco.”
You blink, unsure if you heard him right. “Franco? What does he have to do with this?”
“He, uh, well, he’s been asking about you. He really wants you to come. He … he kind of needs you there, Y/N.”
You frown. “Needs me? What, like for a medical emergency?”
“No, no,” Alex quickly reassures you. “It’s not like that. He’s just — he’s been a bit, you know, off since the crash. He keeps talking about how much you helped him, how much he needs to see you again. He’s … kinda, well, taken with you.”
You pause, processing the unexpected request. “Wait. You want me to go to Abu Dhabi just to … see Franco?”
Alex sighs. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I totally get it if you can’t make it. I just thought I’d put it out there, because he’s really … well, he’s really worried about seeing you again.”
You take a deep breath, staring at the floor. There’s a tug at your chest. Franco’s crash. The way he looked when he stumbled into the garage, his eyes unfocused, his voice thick with concussion. And how you couldn’t help but care, couldn’t help but feel something stir in your chest as you took care of him.
“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I don’t know if I can get time off. I’ve got a million things to do.”
“Please,” Alex pleads, his tone sincere. “Just think about it. I’ll take care of the rest. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just — just come for the weekend. For him.”
You hesitate for a long moment. Your exhaustion is overwhelming, but so is the pull to be there for Franco, to check in on him after everything that happened.
“Okay,” you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Alex lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to him.”
“I’ll talk to my supervisor tomorrow and see if I can get a couple of days off. I’ll let you know.”
“Great. I’ll keep you posted. Thanks again, really.”
As the call ends, you press the phone to your ear, staring at the blank hospital hallway. Something in your chest stirs, a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite name. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get involved with any of these drivers. But Franco … there’s something about him. Something you can’t shake.
You don’t know what’s going to happen in Abu Dhabi. But you know one thing for sure: you’re going to see him again.
***
Franco is buzzing with energy as he walks away from the Williams garage after FP2. The track is alive with its usual Friday hum: team radios squawking, mechanics wheeling equipment, fans pressing against barricades for a glimpse of the action. Normally, this is his favorite part of the weekend — the calm between sessions when he can breathe and think through what’s next.
But today, his thoughts are miles away.
You.
Alex told him you’d agreed to come. He’s spent all week mentally preparing for this moment, imagining what he’ll say when he sees you again. He’d told himself he’d play it cool. That he wouldn’t come off as desperate or weird. That he’d be charming and effortless.
And now, as he walks toward the Williams motorhome, he’s running through those lines in his head like a script. But then, through the glass doors of the motorhome, he spots you.
You’re sitting at a table with Lily, wine glasses between you. You’re mid-laugh, one hand lightly gesturing, the other wrapped around the stem of your glass. The sound of your laugh doesn’t reach him, but your expression — warm and animated — is enough to stop him in his tracks.
Franco stares, frozen. For a second, he’s not a professional driver or a smooth-talking twenty-one-year-old. He’s just a guy, floored by the sight of someone he’s been thinking about far too much.
And then, because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, he walks straight into the glass door.
The sound is embarrassingly loud — a deep, resonant thud that draws the attention of a couple of mechanics nearby. Franco stumbles back, clutching his forehead as the door wobbles slightly on its hinges.
“Oh, come on,” he mutters under his breath, blinking rapidly to clear the stars dancing in his vision.
Inside, Lily gasps, already half out of her chair. But you — you just press a hand to your mouth, visibly trying to suppress a laugh.
Franco pushes the door open this time (successfully, thank God) and steps into the motorhome, trying to salvage whatever remains of his dignity.
“Didn’t know the motorhome was defending itself today,” he says, flashing a crooked grin as he rubs his forehead.
You’re still smiling, but there’s a glint in your eyes as you take a sip of wine. “I see you’re still finding creative ways to injure yourself.”
Lily, standing now, gives him a once-over. “Are you okay? That sounded bad.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Franco says quickly, though he’s still holding his head. “Just testing the structural integrity of the door. Very solid. Great engineering.”
Lily rolls her eyes, muttering something about grabbing an ice pack before disappearing into the kitchen.
You lean back in your chair, tilting your head as you look at him. “You know, you really don’t have to keep hurting yourself just to get my attention. There are easier ways.”
Franco blinks, momentarily thrown off by the teasing edge in your voice. But then he recovers, his grin widening. “Oh, so you noticed me, huh? Mission accomplished.”
You arch an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Hard not to notice when someone face-plants into a door.”
“Ouch,” Franco says, clutching his chest dramatically. “First my head, now my ego. You’re ruthless.”
You laugh, setting your glass down. “I’m a doctor. I call it like I see it.”
“And what do you see?” He asks, leaning casually against the doorframe (or at least trying to — he slightly misjudges the angle and has to correct himself, which makes him look anything but casual).
“I see someone who might need another concussion test if they keep this up,” you say dryly, though there’s a hint of amusement in your tone.
Franco seizes the opening. “Oh, you’ll give me a test? What, right here? Should I sit down? Or maybe lie down? Whatever you need, angel, I’m ready.”
You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch. “I’m off-duty, thank you very much. And stop calling me angel.”
“Why? It suits you,” Franco says without missing a beat. He steps closer, his grin turning just a bit sheepish. “You did save me, after all.”
“From driving with a concussion,” you reply, crossing your arms.
“Still counts,” he says, shrugging. “So … you’re really here. Thought maybe Alex was messing with me.”
You tilt your head, watching him carefully. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know, for fun? He likes to mess with me,” Franco says, his grin turning rueful. “But I’m glad he wasn’t. It’s … it’s good to see you.”
Your expression softens, and you glance down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “It’s good to see you too.”
For a moment, there’s a silence between you. Not awkward, but charged. Franco shifts his weight, scratching the back of his neck. He’s been preparing for this moment all week, but now that you’re standing in front of him, he’s at a loss.
Lily reappears then, an ice pack in hand. She tosses it to Franco, who catches it against his chest. “Here,” she says. “For the door-shaped bruise you’re probably going to have.”
“Thanks,” Franco says, pressing the pack to his forehead. He winces slightly but keeps his gaze on you.
Lily looks between the two of you, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to laugh. “Well, I’ll leave you two to … whatever this is,” she says, grabbing her glass and retreating toward the other end of the motorhome.
Franco watches her go, then looks back at you, his smile softening. “So … you’re here for the whole weekend?”
You nod. “Lily convinced me to stay. Said I needed a break.”
“You do,” Franco says quickly. “Definitely. Big time.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“Because …” Franco hesitates, then decides to go for it. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Vegas.”
You blink, caught off guard by his honesty. “Franco-”
“I’m serious,” he interrupts, stepping closer. “I know I’m probably coming off like a total idiot right now, but I don’t care. You-” He gestures vaguely, as if struggling to find the right words. “You’re different. You’re not like anyone else here.”
“That’s because I’m not supposed to be here,” you say, your tone light but your eyes searching his. “I’m a doctor, Franco. Not meant for … whatever this world is.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. “You could be anything, and I’d still want to know you. You’re …” He trails off, then laughs at himself. “God, I’m bad at this.”
You laugh too, finally relaxing. “A little, yeah.”
“But I’m trying,” he says, his expression earnest now. “And I’ll keep trying, even if it means walking into more doors. Or walls. Or whatever else gets in my way.”
You shake your head, exasperated but undeniably charmed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously into you,” Franco counters, grinning.
You groan, but your smile betrays you. “Stop. That was awful.”
“Was it?” Hr teases, leaning just slightly closer.
“Yes,” you say firmly, though there’s a hint of laughter in your voice. “And I’m not letting you use your injuries as an excuse to flirt with me.”
“Then what excuse should I use?” He asks, tilting his head.
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now. “How about none? Just be normal.”
“Normal,” Franco repeats, as if testing the word. “Okay. I can do that. Probably.”
“Somehow, I doubt it,” you say, but your tone is lighter now, your guard lowering just a fraction.
Franco grins, sensing the shift. He might not be smooth, but he’s persistent. And right now, that feels like enough.
***
The hospital hums with its usual rhythm: the sharp beeps of monitors, the steady shuffle of footsteps, and the occasional murmur of voices echoing down sterile hallways. You’re halfway through your shift, mentally cataloging a growing to-do list, when one of the nurses finds you near the break room.
She looks far too amused for your liking, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Hey, Doc,” she says, her tone conspiratorial. “You’ve got a patient in Room 43. Interesting case. File’s by the door.”
You glance up from your notes, immediately suspicious. “Interesting how?”
“Let’s just say … not your usual trauma,” she replies, her grin widening. “Go see for yourself.”
With a sigh, you grab your tablet and head down the hallway. You’re too tired to entertain the nurse’s cryptic humor, but curiosity tugs at you anyway. When you reach Room 43, you spot the chart hanging by the door. You pick it up and start skimming, your brain automatically processing the medical shorthand.
And then your eyes land on the complaint: penile fracture.
You freeze. Your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds.
Penile fracture. Seriously? You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to laugh or groan. It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare enough to make your day a little more … colorful.
Squaring your shoulders, you prepare yourself for what’s undoubtedly going to be an awkward encounter. Professionalism, you remind yourself. You’ve handled weirder cases.
But all of that resolve shatters the second you open the door and step into the room.
Because the patient isn’t some anonymous stranger.
It’s Franco.
Franco, lounging on the exam table like he doesn’t have a care in the world, scrolling through his phone with his free hand. Franco, the same man you’ve been dating for months, who absolutely should not be in this hospital room right now.
Your mouth opens, ready to deliver your standard introduction, but no words come out.
Franco looks up at the sound of the door, his face breaking into that familiar, devilish grin. “Hey, angel.”
“What the-” You stop yourself, gripping the edge of the clipboard like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. “Franco, what are you doing here?”
He sets his phone down, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m a patient. Clearly.”
You take a deep breath, setting the clipboard aside. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope.” He leans back slightly, gesturing toward himself with both hands. “Broken dick. You saw the file.”
Your jaw tightens as you step closer, lowering your voice. “Franco, this is a hospital. You can’t just-”
“I didn’t just anything,” he cuts in, feigning indignation. “I’m here because you abandoned me this morning. And now I’m suffering.”
You blink at him, completely thrown. “Suffering?”
“Yes!” He says, sitting up straighter, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays any attempt at seriousness. “You left me. Alone. In bed. With …” He lowers his voice dramatically. “An issue.”
Your brain scrambles to keep up. “An issue?”
Franco sighs, as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “Blue balls. A raging, unresolved situation. You’re a doctor — you know how dangerous that can be.”
“Dangerous?” Your voice rises slightly before you catch yourself. “Franco, I left because I had to come to work. Like a normal person.”
“Right, but normal people don’t leave their boyfriends high and dry,” he argues, his tone edging into the realm of petulant. “Do you know how much it hurts? It’s practically a medical emergency.”
You close your eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So let me get this straight,” you say slowly. “You’re here because you have blue balls. And instead of — oh, I don’t know — handling it with your hand and some lotion like a grown adult, you decided to come to my workplace and waste everyone’s time?”
“I don’t see it as wasting time,” Franco says, crossing his arms. “I see it as seeking expert care. From a very qualified, very beautiful doctor.”
“Franco,” you say warningly, but he’s already grinning.
“Besides,” he continues, his voice dropping into a teasing lilt, “don’t you think it’s romantic? I’m literally willing to suffer for you.”
“Oh my God.” You press a hand to your forehead, feeling a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You are not suffering. And this is not romantic — it’s ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously sweet,” Franco counters, clearly enjoying himself.
You stare at him, torn between wanting to strangle him and laugh. “You know I could get in trouble for this, right? What if someone finds out I’m treating my boyfriend? Or worse, that you’re faking a medical emergency?”
“I’m not faking,” he says quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “The pain in my cock is very real.”
“Franco.” Your voice is flat, and you fix him with your best no-nonsense look.
He hesitates for a beat, then leans forward slightly, lowering his voice like he’s about to confess something scandalous. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a fracture. But it is painful!”
You throw your hands up, resisting the urge to laugh despite yourself. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”
Franco pouts, his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated fashion. “Come on, angel. Don’t be mad. I just wanted to see you.”
“You couldn’t have waited until my shift was over?”
He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m impatient. And in my defense, you looked very cute leaving this morning.”
You sigh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you love me,” he says, his grin widening.
“Don’t push your luck,” you warn, though there’s no real bite in your tone.
Franco leans back on the exam table, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who just disrupted your workday. “So … are you gonna examine me or what?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you want me to call security? Because that’s where this is headed.”
“You wouldn’t,” he says, his confidence unwavering.
You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Try me.”
Franco holds your gaze for a moment, then sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. No exam. But only because I value our relationship.”
“Uh-huh,” you say, not even trying to hide your sarcasm.
He grins again, the kind of grin that’s always been your undoing. “You can’t stay mad at me, angel. Admit it.”
You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts. “Franco, you’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, you’d be on your way out of here in handcuffs.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and he smirks. “Kinky.”
“Oh, for the love of-” You don’t bother finishing the sentence, turning toward the door instead.
“Wait, wait!” Franco calls after you, sliding off the exam table. “I’m kidding! Don’t go!”
You pause, looking back at him. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, his expression softer now. “Seriously,” he says. “I just … I missed you. And I thought maybe this would make you laugh. Or at least roll your eyes. Which it did, so … mission accomplished?”
You sigh, feeling your resolve waver. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s looking at you like that — like you’re the only person in the world who matters.
“Franco,” you say, your voice quieter now. “You can’t just show up like this. I have a job to do.”
“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “And I promise I won’t make a habit of it. But … can I take you to dinner after your shift? As an apology?”
You study him for a moment, weighing your options. Finally, you let out a small sigh. “Fine. But only if you promise to behave.”
“I promise,” he says quickly, holding a hand over his heart.
“And no more faking injuries,” you add, pointing a finger at him.
“Scout’s honor,” he says, though the mischievous glint in his eye suggests otherwise.
You shake your head, exasperated but smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet, you keep me around,” he says, grinning.
“For now,” you say, opening the door. “Now get out of here before someone sees you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Franco says, saluting playfully as he follows you into the hallway.
As he walks away, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Ridiculous as he is, there’s no denying that life with Franco is never boring.
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honey-tongued-devil · 9 hours ago
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[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time
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I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!
socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist
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Jayce:
-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”
Viktor:
-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”
Ekko:
-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry
Vander:
-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.
-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married
Silco (old man):
-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”
Silco (young):
-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy
Steb:
-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready
Jinx:
-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman
Vi:
-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”
-"My... wife?"
-"Again"
Caitlyn:
-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled
Mel:
-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue
Sevika:
-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple
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wonryllis · 17 hours ago
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TEMPTING THEM DURING NO NUT NOVEMBER.
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─────𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖸 𝖢𝖠𝖵𝖤 𝖨𝖭. 汚い ❛ 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, "𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍" ❜
featuring. enhypen hyung line with fem!r wordcount. 1250 ( around 300 each ) check out the catalogue?
warnings. ⚠︎PG18! public teasing, groping, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, dry humping, car sex, riding, handjob, shower sex, choking, clit rubbing, p in v obviously.
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚
heeseung knew he fucked up the moment he agreed to take on the challenge. he knew it so so well, yet he decided he could do it and he could pull through the entire month if tried just hard enough. that he could keep his dick in his pants and not in you.
and it was hard. it is hard. his fucking cock twitching underneath his boxers as you discreetly palm him over his suit pants. right in the middle of a dinner with all his friends sitting around the table. unaware of your indecent touches and the looks you throw at your boyfriend.
batting your lashes at him while biting your lips, grabbing his thigh and then moving your hand up to squeeze his cock. it is absolute torture till it lasts. till his resolve breaks and he immediately drags you along to the nearest bathroom. his friends looking at the scene knowing he's done for— just a week into november.
“shit you just had to make me lose didn't you?” heeseung slaps his hand over your mouth, muffling your loud moans as he drills his cock into you. fast and rough; holding your thigh around his waist in a grip so tight it'd probably leave purple bruises.
he tugs you closer on the counter each time you move back from the force of his thrusts, skin slapping into red, painfully pleasurable marks,“couldn’t keep your hands off my cock for once,” he grunts, brows furrowing as you clench around him every two seconds.
“if you keep doing that baby, i might just knock you up with how much i cum,” he moves his hand from your mouth, his lips immediately find yours in a messy lock, nibbling on your lower lip in supressed groans and pants, his balls tightening up when he feels yours walls clamping onto him hard.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚
if muscles could tear off easily. jay would be in shreds right now. the sheer amount of restraint it is taking him, each part of him painfully tense— beyond he ever felt in his entire life. absolute hell he is going through watching you prance around in just a croptop and freaking bikini bottoms.
his eyes almost popping out of the sockets with drooling desire and want for you as he follows along the way you bend over or reach up for absurd and insane reasons. purposely to tease him of course.
he is aware of what you are trying to do. he really is. but he still just can not seem to look away for the sake of his cock and the expensive dinner on line for losing. gaze continuing to follow you as you settle into his lap, arms draping over his shoulders and your ass resting right on top of his now hard cock. oh he's about to lose.
“had this dream last night and— fuck princess you couldn't keep your hands off me and— oh god it was so hot,” jay rambles, his hands gripping your waist guiding you as you grind your drenched folds across his hard cock. back and forth, back and forth. your wet bikini bottoms sliding off to the side each time you reach up to his tip. warm slick smearing over his twitching cock pulled out of his sweatpants just enough.
his soft gasps and grunts filling the room,”gonna lose the no nut but it's worth it,” his eyes stay fixated on your face, watching the way it twists with pleasure and how your lips form an o when you let a moan amidst the constant mewls.
only two days left, but jay just can't resist it anymore. feeling your thighs shake against his and your eyes roll back when he nudges just the tip inside.
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡
jake's knuckles turn borderline white against the steering wheel. grip so tight he might as well rip it off the console. he tries so hard to focus on the road, to keep his eyes and his mind on the lane. but god you make it impossible with your hand caressing his thigh. his gaze drifting down each time your pinky rubs against his balls. and mind drifting off to danger zone of no nut november.
a sharp intake of breath and a silent curse falling off his lips when your fingers trail over his bulge in a feather light touch.
calm down, calm down, calm down. jake chants repeatedly— don't get hard, don't get hard, changing the words when he inevitably feels himself throbbing and growing stiffer by the second— fucking don't get hard damn it, all futile for his cock practically springs against the fabric of his cotton pants after you brush over his tip. should have worn the goddamn boxers.
“oh yeah— oh fuck yeah— your pretty pussy feels so good baby,” jake groans against your parted mouth, the sounds leaving you, the way you bounce on him, the sweat trickling down between your breasts; oh he doesn't care it's only been four days since he decided to participate in no nut november.
“how did i even think i could live a month without you cumming on my cock,” his hands squeezing your ass, guiding your movements as the car flaps with your lewd squelches in the backseat. the windows fogged up and filled with your moans and jake’s dirty mouth running rampant.
noticing your face scrunching up in pleasure, he immediately moves his hand over to rub your nub in quick circles,”god yes you're gonna cum for me?” his feet planting firm onto the floorboard before he starts pounding up,”me too baby, gonna fill you up so well.”
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡
the cold shower did nothing to help his raging mind. and his raging cock. images of you begging for his cock flashing before his eyes on repeat. you were such a vixen when it came down to sex. knowing exactly how to tempt him in a way he would not be able to be resist.
it's only been ten days. sunghoon reminds himself, a hand rubbing down his face as he tries taking in deep breaths. coming home to you waiting for him right by the front door with fucking bedroom eyes was not something he was ready for. and especially not for the way you tried to persuade him to give up the challenge. pulling him closer by his sweatpants and throwing out the most sensual begs he'd ever heard from you.
it took every cell in him to deny you, rushing into the shower to avoid you before you could notice his boner. he did not lock the door though—
“fuck doll, keep doing that and i’ll cum so hard,” sunghoon throws his head back, water running down his chest and over your pretty little hands jerking his hard cock in sloppy strokes. his hips buck involuntarily, furious and wild despite all the warnings flashing red in his subconscious.
“shit shit shit— fuck wait—” as the tight coil in his stomach threatens to bust, he instantly pulls away. albeit only to push you against the glass wall, haul up your left leg, and shove his cock inside in a brutal thrust. his forehead resting against yours as he fucks rough. rough and mad.
his other hand reaching up to grip your throat in a light choke,”you were so desperate to be fucked, you just had to ruin my challenge didn't you?” thumb pressing onto your windpipe just enough while he stares into your glazed eyes,”so desperate for my cum,”
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taglist . . open ! @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @aaa-sia @criminalyun @oddracha @satan-223 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp @laylasbunbunny @riribelle @ancnymcnzjy
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xoxolilixx · 3 days ago
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☽︎ 𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡 ☾︎
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✩𝙀𝙠𝙠𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧✩
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✩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - your ego is bigger than your cunt, and now your forced to eat your words by Ekko's hands.
✩𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 - SMUT. pet names, crying, ekko being a asshole, unprotected sex(WRAP THAT SHIT BEFORE YOU TAP THAT SHIT)
✩𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - this is my first smut in a while and I feel like I overdid it with the details🥲 Nonetheless I hope you guys enjoy it ❤︎
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You were always a little cocky. You thought the most of yourself, and that was fine, that's what Ekko loved about you, especially in moments where it came to bite you in the ass, like now.
"Are you sure, love?" He chuckled softly as he sat down in his desk chair, leant back with his knees spread as his dark beautiful eyes watched as you sat atop his desk, "I don't wanna break you." You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing and condescending tone, taking it as his way of challenging you as you hopped off his desk, "I'll be just fine, Ekko," you smirked as you maneuvered yourself in between his thighs, making his face somewhat leveled with the blessing in between your legs. "I'm a big girl, baby, I can handle myself," You continued as you stood before him in nothing but short, tight, black leather shorts that were paired nicely with fishnets and a makeshift crop top. The soft and plush skin of your thick thighs pushed through the holes of the fishnets, he couldn't help but eye you up and down to take in all of your curves. It wasn't until you gently pinched his chin with your thumb and pointer finger that he stopped looking at you, his eyes locking yours before he smirked. "You a big girl, huh?" He chuckled. "Yea, I'm not like those other bitches you used to fuck, I can actually handle it," you smirked as you leaned down closer to him, your hands resting on his arm rests as you bent down. Something about the way your body was bent down and the way your words slipped past your lips, it made his dick jump in his cargo pants. "Alright, show me how much of a big girl you are~"
He forced your words right back down your throat when he barely sinks the tip of his cinnamon brown, 8.5 inch, girthy cock into your soft, tight, little pussy and you start whimpering, panting out tiny little breaths as you feel him slowly stretch you open. "Damn baby, I thought you were a big girl," he chuckled "you can't even get past the tip princess," he cooed as his big form trapped you against the bed, his hand holding his weight up from beside your head as you look up at him with those big, needy, doe eyes. You didn't even have a comeback for his teasing comment, instead a broken whine slipped past your lips. He couldn't help the grunt that came out when your pussy tightened around his tip like a vice in an attempt to force him out. The mixture of your tightness and the sight of your pretty face scrunched up as you tried to inch away from him made his cock twitch as precum spilt out of his tip.
"Fuckk~" you whimpered as he free hand gripped your hip, tugging you back to him with a breathy chuckle, "c'mon princess, don't tap out now, you doing so good f'me," he cooed mockingly, coaxing tears from your eyes as he sunk deeper into your tight pussy. "Poor baby, what's wrong?" He smirked as he reached up, wiping your tears from your cheeks with his thumb. His condescending tone made you want to curl up into a ball, you suddenly felt so much smaller under him, and your sniffing and crying as he sunk farther into you didn't help.
The stretch hurt so much that it left your legs shaking and you clawing at his forearms. You were thankful that Ekko had ditched the his condescendingness, gently coaxing you through it with "your doing so good f'me," and "I got you baby, just a little more," before messily kissing you so deeply that it left your head spinning with love. All whilst holding the back of your knees to your chest, leaving your feet dangling over his shoulders as he watched his cock bully its way into your tight, weeping pussy.
"Shit baby, I bet you wished you listened to me now~" he cooed softly as his eyes rolled back, feeling you clench down on him so hard that he could barely move in you.
After that, you learned to not be so cocky and listen to him…
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xshadowdelta · 3 days ago
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FORMER MANAGER
PART 5: PURITY.
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Mashiro x Male Reader (4K length)
You observed your face in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, your messy hair, the marks of the sheets on your cheeks and some visible dark circles bordering your eyes, it definitely had not been your best night. You had barely slept, tossing and turning in bed all night while your head was spinning around the scene with Jang Wonyoung.
The image of her crying wouldn't disappear from your mind no matter how hard you tried, but how did this happen in the first place? The last memory you had of her was when you said goodbye years ago before returning home, back then she also cried, but this time it was totally different, her look of disappointment on you disturbed you even more than her tears.
You catched some water from the sink, throwing it over your face, trying to clear yourself up and wake up a little, because you had to continue with your life and your work, you would find a free time lapse to be able to fix this problem.
You showered, fixed your hair, and hid the traces of a terrible night on your face as well as you could before getting dressed and leaving your apartment heading to the company.
You arrived at the building where as soon as you entered, your boss was waiting for you, folder in hand, and while you both walked he explained the itinerary of the day and the schedule for the upcoming weeks. Kep1er’s members had returned from their last shows abroad, there had been a few changes at the management level, and a new comeback was already planned, so the work was going to be hard and intense.
Both of you stopped in front of one of the practice rooms, a light touch of your coworker knuckles on the door and you entered inside, a group of girls who were stretching stared at you.
“Good morning girls.” Your partner began to speak. “Before starting preparations for this new album I want to introduce you to your new full-time manager, starting on today he will take care of all of you and about everything you need.” He exclaimed, indicating for you to introduce yourself to them with a gesture of his hand.
You bowed them instantly. “Nice to meet you! I will be at your service from now on, I hope we get along well.” You said a little nervous, a feeling that disappeared when you saw the smiles and applause they offered you. “Nice to meet you, please treat us well!” They all said in unison bowing to you aswell.
"Good." Your boss interrupted. “The dance teacher will come right away to show you and start practicing the new choreographies, I hope the best from all of you. “Fighting!” He said with his fist, before handing you the information folder and leaving the room.
You watched him leave and when you looked back you jumped when you realized how the Kep1er girls had surrounded you, occupying any personal space you could have, their eyes analyzing you carefully.
"Hello!" One of them greeted with a huge smile on her face. “I'm the leader Yujin, nice to meet you, it's incredible, it's the first time I have such a young manager.” You smiled shyly, uncomfortable with the circle of people that had formed around you.
“Wow, can I call you oppa?” A girl with pink hair and rounded cheeks asked next to her, if you were not mistaken it was Kim Chaehyun, you nodded affirmatively at her question causing her to laugh.
You noticed that penetrating eyes were focused on you to the point that you realized that gaze was passing through you, you made eye contact with it, increasing your nervousness.
“Is something wrong, Xiaoting?” You asked softly making the mentioned girl blink a few times. “Do you know my name already?” She questioned surprised. “Our new manager has studied a lot!” Dayeon shouted, starting to laugh and causing the rest of the members to laugh.
“Look at his dark eyes, he sure hasn't been able to sleep all night!” Hikaru joked, releasing one of her particular laughs that resonated throughout the room, increasing the volume and joy of the rest of the members.
These girls were really loud and restless, they were going to give you a lot of headaches, yet a smile was drawn on your lips and for a while you forgot about the rest of your problems.
The dance teacher appeared and the morning passed with the girls memorizing and practicing the new choreographies, so you took the opportunity to go to your office to work on other aspects such as contacting the wardrobe team, making venue reservations where the filming would be done, hire the recording equipment.
The days went by and with the amount of work you had it was impossible to even think about Wonyoung. Your relationship with the members of Kep1er was improving and due to the characteristics of these girls, in just a week it seemed like you had been together since their debut, and that was something that relieved you and made everything much more enjoyable.
This day in question the girls would spend it in the recording studio, testing their vocals and recording the songs for the new album, so really your presence there was not very significant so your task for the day was to clean and organize everything in the house.
If you already hated doing housework, doing it in a home full of girls made you hate it excessively. A multitude of clothes scattered throughout the rooms, boxes and cardboard in every corner.
You were infinitely grateful to Bahiyyih for trying to keep the house in order, saving you some work, but the whirlwind that was Chaehyun Dayeon and Hikaru was simply unstoppable.
You finished off the apartment Yujin Bahiyyih Chaehyun and Xiaoting shared and headed upstairs to start cleaning the next one. You hadn't been there for long but there was a room that you had not yet accessed, it was a two-bed bedroom that did not belong to anyone in the group but that had serious signs of having been habited before, it was perfectly arranged and there were still clothes hanging in the closet.
You inspected said clothes, leaving them on one of the beds, you opened the drawers looking to know what, and this really had you confused.
“W-W-Who are you? What are you doing with my clothes?” A sudden voice surprised and scared you, almost making you fall on the bed when you turned to look at the door frame of the room, finding a small girl with brown hair and a rather cute appearance carrying a cardboard box in her hands, looking at you in a scared way.
“That's what I should ask, how did you get in here? The door has a password, and what's with your clothes?” You were trying to appear as calm as possible but you were really uneasy with that presence.
“Don't tell me…A SASAENG!” You both shouted at the same time, pointing your fingers at each other.  "WHAT? ME?" Now your fingers were pointing towards yourselves.
“It's over I'm going to call the police.” The girl said, dropping the box and taking her mobile phone out of her pants pocket.
“That's exactly what I'm going to do, look at this.” You said, taking out the company ID, surprising the girl.
"Huh?"
.
.
.
.
“I'm sorry again, I had no idea you were the new manager.” The girl said with her head down, looking at the ground, feeling guilty for the previous misunderstanding.
“The mistake was mine for not having recognized you before, Mashiro-shi.” Now you knew who this room belonged to.
Apparently, and after left the grou, both Mashiro and Yeseo had been terribly busy with their new group and their own activities that they had been coming and going to the house making small moves of their things. However some things of their property were still there.
“If you need help with your…”
“Oh no no, please, I'm sure you're very busy, I don't want to bother you.” She commented, making notable gestures with her hands. You smiled at how adorable that was.
“The rest of the members say that you and Yeseo will continue to be part of Kep1er forever…” You commented, bending down to pick up the cardboard box from the floor and put it on the bed, opening it. “So now I'm also your manager, okay Mashiro-chan?” You smiled warmly at her causing her cheeks to turn a deep pink color.
“O-O-Okay” She agreed shyly, approaching you and helping you pack more clothes from her closet.
Together you cleared out the closet and packed all the clothes, and you organized the rest of the room and cleaned it. You glanced at Mashiro from time to time, even with that strange first impression you had with her, you really thought she was a super adorable girl. Her small stature, her beautiful face and the dimples that were marked on her cheeks reaffirmed it.
“What do you think of the members?” She asked casually while doing her task, your gaze drifted towards the ceiling, sketching a slight smile after a few seconds of thought.
“Noisy.” You responded simply causing her to giggle, covering her mouth with one of her hands.
“I understand you perfectly.” She supported you.
“But they are really amazing.” You continued. “They spend the day laughing and making a fuss but they don't lower the effort they put into their practices one bit, sometimes I envy them. I would also like to enjoy my work like they do.” Out of the corner of my eye you could notice a small smile melancholy on her face, so you decided not to say anything else and continue with the cleaning.
You walked over to one of the nightstands next to one of the beds to open the drawers, see what they kept and see if there was anything else that needed to be packed.
“Don't open that!” Mashiro screamed hysterically, throwing herself on the bed trying to stop you but you had already opened the drawer. You looked at her confused, even more so when she threw her hands over her face trying to hide herself, while her ears turned red.
You looked down, looking at the vibrator that was inside the drawer, blushing too and quickly moving away, falling on your ass to the floor.
"I'm sorry."  You whispered embarrassed, unable to look up, noticing how your face was burning.
“Noooooo…how embarrassing.” Mashiro sobbed, rolling on the bed. You grabbed a lock of your hair, analyzing the situation, looking for the right words for a moment like this.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of Mashiro, it is something totally normal for someone your age and…Mashiro?” You were absorbed as you looked up to see directly at the girl who was still sobbing, covering her face with one hand, while the other was now rubbing her crotch over her pants. So those sounds weren't sobs, they were moans.
You saw how she relaxed her body and lie down on the bed. The hand that covered her face no longer did so, she was now looking at you clearly, intently, a look very different from what you had seen from her before.
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“It has been such a hard, stressful and emotional weeks. Leaving one group to enter another, new members, comeback, and performances. Even now all the responsibility of being a leader falls on my shoulders.”
“Mashiro…” Your words were interrupted by a new moan.
“And I forgot my stress reliever during the move, I tried using my fingers but they didn't have the same effect…” You turned your gaze to the vibrator and took it in your hands, Mashiro's eyes did not take their eyes off the device. You turned it on, listening to the vibrations it produced, making Mashiro groan in despair.
“You said before that you were also my manager…” The Japanese girl began to say. “So, I need your help, manager oppa, please…” You swallowed after hearing that request of deep need in her tone of voice.
You stood up and approached the bed, sitting on the edge near Mashiro, who lowered the zipper of her sweatshirt a little, revealing a bit of the shirt she was wearing underneath and then, moving against the bed, she managed to lower her pants until her underwear was visible.
“You are very wet Mashiro-chan.” You commented looking at the huge stain that had appeared on her panties. “You really are so needy…”
She didn't respond but she brought her hand back to where the stain was now, caressing herself again with circular movements, closing her eyes enjoying her own touch.
When she stopped she opened her eyes to look deeply at you, eyes that were screaming for your help. You sighed and got even closer to her body, vibrator in hand, gently bringing it to her desired area, coming into contact causing Mashiro's back to arch due to excitement.
“Yes, please…” She continued asking needily.
You pushed aside the fabric of her panties, visualizing her wonderful pink pussy completely flooded that was crying out for pleasure.
The sex toy now caressed Mashiro's folds mercilessly, forcing her to moan loudly, her eyes closed again enjoying the waves of pleasure that ran through her body.
That scene was fucking erotic for you, so much so that a huge bulge peeked out from between your pants. With your free hand you managed to free that bulge from outside your clothes, however it was somewhat difficult to satisfy both of you at the same time.
A naughty idea crossed your mind. If you were busy offering pleasure to Mashiro she was free to give it to you, so you took her hand closest to you and placed it around your cock.
Upon feeling that she opened her eyes again, offering you a small smile when she knew your intentions, grabbing your penis tightly and beginning to move her hand up and down constantly.
“Oppa hentai…” She whispered, biting her lip, watching how she was masturbating you.
“It's your fault in the first place…” You responded, emitting the occasional small moan caused by her touch, and lowering the zipper of her sweatshirt completely with your free hand, allowing yourself to caressing her stomach and her hips.
You threw the vibrator to the side of the bed and began to caress her pussy with your own hand, separating her folds with your fingers and inserting a couple of them inside causing a squeal of surprise from her.
“Shit oppa…it feels so good…”
“A girl as adorable as you talking so dirty.” You said increasing the pace of your caresses on her pussy, feeling how your hand became wet with Mashiro's fluids.
“You love when I talk dirty, right oppa?” She asked continuing the caresses on your penis. “It hasn't stopped growing…”
You smiled, leaning over her body, placing a few kisses across her bare stomach. She released her grip on your cock to allow you to position yourself more comfortably on top of her, slipping your hands under her shirt touching everything within reach.
Mashiro slowly melted under your body, moaning louder and louder as your fingers caressed her tits. She was breathing heavily and her hair fell over her forehead giving it an even sexier touch, her entire face was flushed and hot.
Due to the constant movement of your bodies on each other there was a moment where your cock rubbed against Mashiro's pussy, tensing her body and placing her hands against your chest, pushing you away slightly.
You raised an eyebrow in confusion, realizing how hot this whole scene had become and how you had gotten carried away with it.
“I'm sorry if I…
“I have only used that vibrator… I have never had anything inside me beyond my fingers, I am completely a virgin.” She admitted, looking away embarrassed.
"It’s okay." You whispered softly, offering her a smile, caressing her right cheek with your hand. She took your hand and let herself be caressed by you.
“It's really strange and we just met...but I feel very comfortable with you, oppa. Although I don't think I'm ready to cross that line yet, I'm sorry.”
“You don't have to apologize for anything.”  You leaned your head over her, kissing her lips, being instantly reciprocated by her, lightly biting her lower lip, drawing a moan from her and allowing your tongue to explore every corner of Mashiro's mouth.
“Oppa.” A thread of saliva separated your mouth from Mashiro's. “I need an orgasm.”
You smiled, recovering the vibrator lost in some corner of the bed, activating it again, this time with more power making the girl's body tremble.
“OH FUCK!” Squeals and moans came non-stop from the idol's mouth as you rubbed the toy again and again over her weak area.
You alternated the vibrator with the caresses that you provided with your hands. You lay down on the bed next to Mashiro without stopping masturbating her, she quickly took your cock again with one of her hands and now you were both pleasuring each other.
You inserted two of your fingers inside her completely tight pussy, stretching it slightly feeling her walls contract against your fingers. The girl's hips moved unconsciously as the moans did not stop and her grip on your cock tightened.
You then stroked her clit with your thumb, which was like touching the self-destruct button on Mashiro's body. You touched and pressed her clit as much as you could until her back arched again and a huge scream escaped her mouth.
Her body hit the mattress again, her chest rising and falling excitedly. It took her a few seconds to catch her breath and recover from that orgasm, she turned to look at you and you quickly wiped away some tears that were now flowing from her eyes with your hand.
“God…you're better than any toy, oppa.” Despite continuing to pant, her smile was wide, she laughed at herself for the situation she found herself in.
You laughed, also flattered but somewhat embarrassed by her comment. You tried to get up to get out of bed but Mashiro immediately stopped you and forced you to lie down, surprising you with her sudden reaction.
“Wait, you're not done yet.” She said and then you looked down at your penis.
“Please let me help you, oppa.” Mashiro demanded in distress, because she had been able to free herself thanks to your touch and you, on the other hand, were still hard.
How were you going to refuse that, you thought, lowering the clothes that covered your lower area to your ankles, leaving your member in full view. Mashiro was stunned to see it like that.
“It's even bigger…” She whispered, wrapping her hand around it again, beginning to cover it completely and therefore starting the massage.
You let out a moan and bit your lip. Under normal conditions it would take you long enough to cum to get a long treatment, but the hard work of these last few days had taken its toll on you too. You hadn't downloaded for days, even weeks, and none of the Iz*One girls had crossed your path during this time, so you and your friend were especially sensitive at the moment.
That Mashiro was inexperienced was obvious, not only because she had confessed to being a virgin, it was obvious that it was the first time she had masturbated someone.
She did it delicately but nervously, her hand trembled on your cock, so you decided to help her, placing one of your hands on hers, guiding her on top of you. This helped her to calm down and gain confidence, copying the rhythm that you were setting.
You moved your hand away once you saw her more prepared and in response to that she wrapped her other hand around your penis as well.
Now both of the girl's hands were working on your erect dick, covering the entire length between them, with slow and delicate movements that made you shudder.
Your moans began to get uncontrolled due to her touch, giving her more and more encouragement and causing the pace of masturbation to increase.
Her two hands worked now at high speed on your penis, with enveloping movements, noticing how it swelled and began to tremble.
“Shit...Mashiro-chan I'm about to...” You couldn't finish the warning when the first shot was propelled upwards, surprising the girl by seeing that white liquid escape from the tip of your penis.
After the first, the rest of the shots followed, progressively decreasing the intensity with each one until finally there was not a single drop left inside you.
Mashiro's hands raised the skin of your penis one last time, observing the brilliance that the tip of your penis now offered. Finally she let you go and you were able to sit up on the bed, seeing the mess that had formed on your abdomen, now covered in your own sperm.
You diverted your gaze towards Mashiro whose eyes did not stop observing that increasingly sticky area.
You moved your hand towards it, taking some of the sperm with your fingers and looked back at the girl, who now looked back at you.
"Do you want to try it?" You asked, smiling sideways, sneaking into her thoughts. She did not utter a word due to shyness and embarrassment but nodded affirmatively.
You brought your fingers closer to her face and she closed her eyes, opening her mouth, allowing you to insert them inside, licking and tasting your seed. Her tongue moved between your fingers, wetting them but absorbing all the liquid they were impregnated with.
She opened her mouth again for you to remove your fingers and you looked at each other.
"It is...you are...you taste delicious..." She admitted self-consciously but happy and satisfied. “C-C-Can I take some more?”
A few seconds later you had Mashiro leaning over you licking all the remains of sperm that were on your abdomen and thighs. That was making you hard again but you knew you had a line that you must not to cross.
The idol's tongue cleaned you completely, savoring every last bit of liquid she could get, repeating to herself how delicious it tasted. Once she was over with you, you left the room for a moment to go to the bathroom, cleaning yourself and put your clothes back on properly, when you returned Mashiro was also dressed.
You inserted the vibrator into the cardboard box, camouflaged between several layers of clothing, and took it into your arms, despite the girl's insistence that she could carry the box.
You went down together to the street, parked there was one of Mashiro's new group's cars waiting to pick her up.
"Thanks for everything, manager oppa." Mashiro smiled sweetly at you.
"Keep this between us, okay?" She nodded briskly heading to the car, turning around before opening the door.
"I'll think about you the next time." Those words caught you off guard, making you blush.
You watched as the car disappeared into the distance of the street, blending into the traffic. You sighed and walked back up the stairs to the apartment, there was still a lot to clean.
Just when you were about to grab the broom again the phone in your pocket started ringing, you picked up after reading the name of the caller and brought it to your ear.
“Finally, I only had to call you 7 times to get a callback.” You heard a sleepy yawn from the other side.
“I've been non-stop for months, many performances, shootings, ceremony awards, and exhausting trips, you know. I deserved a good restful sleep…of 14 hours.”
“Of course, we must keep the star Ahn Yujin in good condition.” Your laughter dissipated as you took a more serious tone. “I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I know. See you in like 1 hour? I will send you the location.”
“Sure, see you.”
You hung up the call and heaved a long sigh, rushing to get all the work done. You had a date in an hour.
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dollishsz · 2 days ago
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HOW DIFFERENT BATBOYS APOLOGIZE AFTER A ARGUMENT ── .✦
a/n: Lowkey I feel like I’m like slightest but problematic in arguments (not me exposing myself) but srs I got this request by a anon! (Here) So yeah tysmm, I won’t be writing the argument because lowkey, I can’t do angst at this time 💔😞
(Tags: how different batboys apologize after a argument)
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BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
The "I'm Sorry, But…" Apology: Bruce’s apology might be a little stiff at first. He’s not great with words when it comes to his emotions, but he does know how to make up for things. His apology might start with something like, "I know I’m… difficult, but I didn’t mean to hurt you." The real comedy comes in when he tries to "fix" the situation by throwing money at it—like suggesting an extravagant dinner or buying you a new wardrobe because, "I know it will make you feel better."
Trying Too Hard to Be ‘Normal’: He might try to act like he’s “not Bruce Wayne” for a second, attempting to be goofy to show you he’s truly sorry. Picture Bruce awkwardly trying to make a joke: "I’m sorry I made you feel like I was ignoring you. How about we go out… without my bodyguards this time? You know, like a normal date?"
The Silent Apology: More often than not, Bruce will show you he’s sorry with actions, like preparing your favorite meal or doing something thoughtful (such as leaving you a handwritten note or taking care of something you've been stressing about). But if you press him for words, he might simply mutter, “I’m not good at this… but I am sorry,” and leave it at that.
DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
The Full-On “I’m Sorry, Please Forgive Me” Routine: Dick is extremely sorry whenever he’s messed up, and he knows how to make it entertaining. He’ll show up with flowers, chocolates, or maybe even your favorite ice cream. And then, with a totally sincere but dramatic flair, he’ll say something like, “Listen, I know I was an idiot, and I have no excuse except that I’m clearly emotionally stupid when I’m upset. So please, for the love of all things holy, let me make it up to you.”
Humorous Apologies: Dick might also make you laugh with his over-the-top apologies. Maybe he tries to outdo himself by setting up an elaborate “romantic” date, only for it to completely go awry (think spaghetti noodles flying everywhere or a very unromantic “romantic” location). He’ll laugh it off, saying, “Okay, so maybe that’s not exactly how I imagined it… but you have to admit, it’s unforgettable.”
The Super Dramatic ‘I’m Sorry’ Speech: After an argument, Dick is not shy about admitting when he’s wrong. He’ll deliver a heartfelt, exaggerated apology, something like, "I was a fool, and I see now that I was wrong. You are perfect, and I am definitely not. How do you put up with me?" Then, he might give you puppy-dog eyes, as if expecting you to immediately forgive him.
JASON TODD ── .✦
The “I Know I Messed Up, But… Here’s a Gift” Approach: Jason is quick to apologize, but it’s not usually with a heartfelt speech. Instead, he’ll show up with a gift—maybe something small but thoughtful, like your favorite snack or a new book he knows you’ve been eyeing. He’ll casually hand it to you and say, “Alright, alright, I messed up. But you know I’m not great at this, so here’s my attempt at being a decent human being.”
Comedic Self-Deprecation: Jason, knowing he’s not always the best communicator, might start with a little self-deprecating humor. "Look, I’m sorry, okay? You’re right, I am a jerk sometimes. But hey, at least I didn’t set anything on fire this time, right?" He’ll try to make you laugh with his inability to fully express himself, but you know he means it.
The “I’m Sorry, Now Let’s Get Back to Normal” Routine: Jason might awkwardly try to move past the argument, brushing it off with a gruff, "Look, I’m sorry for being a pain. Can we just… go back to how things were?" It's not the most eloquent apology, but it’s Jason, and it’s his way of saying he wants to make things right without diving too deep into feelings.
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
The "I Overthought This" Apology: Tim is a perfectionist, so when he messes up, he’ll overthink how to apologize. He’ll probably try to do something really thoughtful, like writing you a letter or planning a whole day dedicated to making it up to you. But the real comedy comes when he gets so wrapped up in planning that he’s awkward about it. "I, uh, made you a list of everything I could do to make it up to you, starting with… well, taking you out for dinner. You like sushi, right? But if you prefer something else, I can also—"
The "What Do You Need?" Routine: Tim might also take a very logical approach. He’ll ask, "What would you like me to do to fix this?" but in a way that makes it seem like he’s creating a spreadsheet of ways to apologize. "I’ve compiled some options for you to choose from. Option one: Dinner. Option two: A walk in the park. Option three: Let me do your laundry for the next week…”
The 'Nervous, Over-Apologetic' Tim: Tim is likely to be the one who apologizes over and over again. He’ll say “I’m sorry” about a dozen times in a single conversation, with increasing levels of anxiety. "I really didn’t mean it that way. I’m so sorry. Are we okay? You don’t seem mad, but if you are, I understand, and I’m really, really sorry."
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
The Reluctant Apology: Damian isn’t one to apologize easily, and when he does, it’s more formal. He might say something like, “I apologize for my behavior. It was uncalled for.” And then he’ll awkwardly pause, before adding, "I... didn’t mean to upset you." The comedic part comes when he clearly doesn’t understand how he’s hurt you. He might ask, “Is there anything I can do to make it right? Or… was this just another one of your moods?”
The Unintentional "Nice Guy" Apology: Damian will give you something as an apology—perhaps a bouquet of flowers or something that he “found interesting,” but he’ll likely be very stiff about it, saying something like, “This is for you. I thought you would appreciate it. It’s… an apology gift.” He’ll be surprised when you react positively, since he’s convinced that you’ll just think it’s lame
A Small Gesture of Remorse: As an apology, Damian might ask you to join him for a quiet walk or for tea, giving you a rare moment of sincerity. He might even throw in a joke (but it’ll be one of those very dry ones), saying, “The tea will be of the highest quality, so I suppose that should count for something."
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audioandart · 4 hours ago
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why do they get to hinge your well-being and survival on anything though. Like you said, 18 year olds don't have the funds to live on their own. Their parents deciding the moment they hit 18 that if they don't do everything perfectly, they're going to be kicked out is nuts. Here's what happened when I turned 18:
I had to go to college (which there was no public transportation for and I can't drive because I'm disabled)
I had to work (which still took months to get going because disabled)
I had to do all the chores (and was the only one doing so because I "had the time" while everyone else was at their 9-5s. This was often while I was supposed to be at class)
This already took at least 10 hours but lets not forget the few hours of homework I had as well. And I had no weekend due to my schedule. It is not unreasonable to want the adult in your house to do these things but my mother also
Refused to take parental controls off any of my devices even tho they actively hindered my school work due to blocking websites I needed (and she would not unblock them) (and I was a grown adult, who she also had no reason to have them to the degree she did when I was younger either. I had literally never done a thing on my devices, as she herself would and does attest)
Get pissed off about the fact I needed to be taken to school even tho she didn't want me to drive. She blamed this on my not finding public transportation. She herself agreed there was none
I was not allowed to have a voice in arguments. Even tho I was an adult (this continued past 18 just for the record) I was not allowed to voice why I had done things or why certain things hadn't worked. I was threatened with "you can leave (I will make you)" and she had on multiple occasions kicked me out to "take a walk". It was a "polite" way of saying gtfo of my house, which she didn't even always bother with. The moment I turned 18 it was fair game to threaten to put me on the streets, because yes, that's exactly where I would've been.
Even tho I contributed payment I was not allowed ownership of my own things. Every single person in the house would come in my room and do what they wanted, would take my things. No one else in the house experienced this. Side note, I also had the only door without a lock.
And throughout all this I was also in constant pain and ill because our world is not made for disabled ppl, which even tho the ppl around me recognized me as such, refused to give me the accommodations they also recognized I needed. I have memory problems. My mother refused to recognize them and claimed I just didn't care. I forgot to take out the trash? I can leave (be kicked out). I didn't finish all the dusting in a few minutes because I'm sick from standing? Doesn't matter. I can leave.
My mom is a great mom. She really is. But the moment I turned 18 it was like this switch was flipped. She was still great but suddenly there was no patience. There was no care for things she had previously cared about. There was also no loosening of the grip she'd had on me my whole life, as I also wasn't allowed to leave the house without her permission. The sad truth is, in the US, parents do not often want you there once you're 18. Even if they love you. So no, they will kick you out. And yes, college and good grades is too much. Your life should not be dependant on your grades (and it is your life). Being homeless WILL fuck you and if you are kicked out it is nigh guaranteed you will be homeless. Who are you going to crash with? All your friends live with their parents. You have nowhere near enough money to live anywhere, the dorms won't accept you especially halfway thru the year, no way are you going to find a roommate situation that fast. Shelters are a whole other issue that I don't even want to get into right now, and they aren't everywhere. You will be homeless. And it will be over your grades. Do you really think that's ok? The world we live in needs serious change before ppl can just be kicked out. It's heartless to say that anything justifies homelessness
i fucking hate people who are like "no one has a right to live alone, just have roommates if you can't afford it, i had them for so long" etc because every single person my age that i know has a horrific roommate/housemate story. i genuinely believe that being able to afford living alone is deeply important for human dignity and also like, sanity, and i also think you should be able to throw your roommate out of a window if needs must
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maeedrg · 2 days ago
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Mine to protect
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Feral Gojo X non sorcerer fem reader X Geto Suguru
ᯓ★
Synopsis : in which you are freshly dating since two months your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru. Still new to this sorcery world, you try to understand that your relationship had to be kept a secret for your safety. But Satoru hides you many things, informations that could have made everything different. You keep bumping too into a man called Suguru, and as time passes, things get complicated. You end up having a bounty on your head, and that makes Gojo snaps.
Words count : 12k.
Warnings : tooth rooting fluff, Satoru being silly, angst, gore, dead body, death implied, stalking, slight smut, alcohol consumption, slight canon divergence, hidden inventory mentioned, some satosugu, a bit of Suguru x reader if you squint
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : it took me so long to write, and was harder than I thought. I hope you guys will enjoy, with all the pain it caused me to create this… ugh.
。⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚。⋆♡⋆。⋆ ˚。⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆。⋆✧⋆˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆。⋆✧⋆˚。⋆⋆
February 16, 11 : 26 PM, Gojo Satoru exterminated 7 upper grades curses. 12 : 02 AM, Gojo Satoru killed 4 sorcerers. Sentence : no one. Reason : still unknown. 
Gojo pants heavily, each breath long and shattered. Blood is dripping down his skin, staining his hands, face, and clothes. Not his blood, obviously. His eyes lack the usual blue shine they hold, instead dull greyish dirty sky paints his iris. His pupils are dilated, big and creepy, slowly drifting to the side. He throws on the floor the head of one of his opponents. It rolls over, until it stops at the feet of a shaking mess of another sorcerer. The man shivers head to toe, and tries to step back, but he just ends up falling pathetically on the bloody floor. 
“Please, please- spare me ! I just wanted the money !” he screams, big fat tears rolling down his bruised cheeks. Satoru snaps his tongue inside his mouth, making a noise of annoyance, before moving one step closer. His aura is so gigantic and imposing, that the sorcerer feels like he could dissolve on the spot.
“Where is she ?”, he asks one time. No need to say it twice, the life of his opponent is on the line.
“I- In- with our boss- please, I swear… !”, now he babbles, snot coming out of his nose and shaking his head multiple times in pure and utter fear. 
The white haired sorcerer suddenly grabs the collar of the man before him, smashing him in a loud thud against the wall behind. It crackles the paint and breaks some of his bones, coughing some blood and whimpering like a poor pitiful dog.
“Boss ? I bet it’s the one that did put a damn bounty on her head and asked you to do this, am I right ?” Satoru snarls, the small light of the flickering bulb behind him illuminating the side of his crimson painted face. The sorcerer, unable to talk, too scared and in pain to form a normal sentence, nods quickly. He tries to squirm away, weakly, but Satoru sighs and shakes his head in disapproval.
“Uh-uh, no need to run, I still need you to answer me. Where is your boss ?” he asks firmly, leaving no room for argument. Without any further, the sorcerer pronounces faintly the place and area he asked for. Satoru’s eyes narrow, tightening his fingers around the collar of the man in an iron grip.
“I see… well, I don’t need you anymore,” he ends up sighing, clearly bored now. 
“I answered, now please, I beg, spare me ! pl-” SPLASH. A flash of light, it flickers, smoke escapes and then a huge red stain paints the wall. What stays of the body of the sorcerer, more like his calcined legs, falls on the ground brutally.
“Ah, what a mess. How annoying,” mutters Satoru, whipping some of the gruesome mix of red liquid and flesh off his cheek. 
12 : 06 AM, Gojo Satoru killed 5 sorcerers. 
Calmly, we can hear the sound of steps on the ground. One, two, three. Each one is steady, and a terrifying shine of blue illuminates the darkness of the corridor. 
“So it was ***, all along…” whispers Satoru in the eerie quietness, before opening the door in front of him in a brutal motion.
12 : 31 AM, Gojo Satoru found you back. But not alone.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
Dating Gojo Satoru as a non sorcerer wasn’t always that easy. Indeed, after barely two months of dating, exploring the spectrum of romantic relationship together, you both had to keep it a secret. If jujutsu society discovered that The Strongest was dating a non sorcerer girl, it would go sour very quickly. It was for your safety, and you understood that very well. This whole world of curses, gore and morbid routine was better away from you, anyways. And no matter how much you tried to put your mind into it, it was hard to understand everything. Even if Satoru tried to explain to you his line of work, and who he was, he on purpose hid some crucial informations. Informations that could have saved you that day, on february 16. But who could have known ? Neither you, nor him. 
But today was a good day. After coming back from his busy day, Satoru made his best to come back to you as quickly as possible. After all, how could he leave you alone at your apartment for too long ? Nah, never.
“Come on, sweetheart. I just wanna play with ya’ ! Don’t tell me you’re afraid to lose ?”, your boyfriend coos, tantalizing. You shake your head, trying to step away, but his arm swings around your waist and forces you to sit down next to him in front of the coffee table.You huff.
“Satoru, I’m not playing arm wrestling if it’s just for you to show off your strength. You’re going to break my wrist !” you retort, firmly. But the way his fingers slide up your skin towards your palm, and intertwine with your hand, and how his puppy eyes are looking at you, it makes you falter for a second.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I know how to control my amazing strength. Be for real, baby. You’re just scared to lose !” He tilts his head to the side, trying to sound challenging to tease you enough to accept.
“You literally are “The Strongest”, or whatever weird wizard shit you are. I, for sure, will lose !” you exclaim, scoffing, frowning your eyebrows. Satoru snickers, a small smile forming on his lips and squeezing your hand in his.
“Sorcerer, baby, not shadow wizard money gang. And I swear, I’ll go easy on ya’. ‘Kay ? Promise !” he insists, kissing your knuckles tenderly at the end of his sentence. You can’t help but explode of laugh at his joke, and his smile grows wider at your face happily giggling.
How cute. It was in those moments that Gojo Satoru loved to bask in the most. Just pure domestic happiness by your side, aside from the jujutsu world. You, and him. No curses, no fighting, nothing. It’s for that he insisted on not showing you the depth of the atrocity of his world. It was better that way, he thought.
“Alright, alright. I’ll play. But only if you allow me an advantage ! That would be only fair…” you calm down and end up accepting, looking into his blue eyes. He seems like he is pondering. Obviously, he wasn't. He just wanted to put some mystery in his answer.
“Greedy girl. Fine, I’ll give you an edge.”
“That would be… ?” you ask, waiting for him to continue.
“No defense on my side. You can use anything to get me to stop and surrender. How does that sound ?” he ends up explaining, raising his eyebrow.
“That would be easy,” you answer confidently. He scoffs, frowns, and lets out a small laugh at your naivety of thinking you could win. He liked that about you.
“Ah, yes. Right. Very easy. Then, what will you get if you do win ? Which you won’t, by the way,” he tsk, playing a bit mindlessly with your hand he was holding.
“You give me a full body massage. If you win, I’ll give you one. Do we have a deal ?” you answer, ignoring his provocative last sentence, deciding to not indulge into his teasing.
“Yes ma’am. We go at the count of three, then. One…” Satoru says as a start, grabbing back your hand and lining it between his own.
“Two,” you continue, “three !” you both end up saying at the same time. You directly put all your strength into your arm even though his hand is much larger and stronger compared to yours. He tightens his grip, not budging at all. This bitch even fake yawns to provoke you. You narrow your eyes, scoffing, and trying to put on more strength. He said he would put no defense on his side, so what could you do ? Tickle him ?
With your other hand, you slide your fingers and tickle his underarm. He shivers and lets out a laugh.
“Oh ? You’re playing nasty here-” he says in between laughs, but then decides to tighten his grip and starts to slowly push down your arm. You realize that making him laugh is no strategy to make him lose. You groan, frowning your eyebrows and directly stop tickling him to concentrate all your strength on one point, but it’s no use. Each second that passes, he makes your arm go down, and down, and down… He even has the nerves to stare at you with his stupid smirk, amused by your whining.
“Adorable.”
“Shut up,” you snap back, serious about winning, your arm almost fully flat on the table now. No, no, no ! You can’t let him win like that ! 
You decide to then, as a last second idea, lean towards your boyfriend and kiss him swiftly. Surprised, his grip falters. Your kisses were indeed his weakness, and you knew it better than anyone else. Wickedly, you take the opportunity to smash his arm on the other side of the table, finally winning. You directly stop kissing him, a big smile on your face as you jump on your feet and laugh.
“I won ! You damn ass loser !” 
Satoru snaps back to reality, and looks at his hand, then back at you. He directly grabs you and makes you fall on the ground, getting on top of you and starts to tickle you restlessly.
“You caught me by surprise ! It doesn’t count !” Satoru exclaims, smiling at the way you squirm and squirm over again, chocking on your own laughs because of the torture your boyfriend is giving you. And oh, oh how pretty you look, with tears at the corner of your half lidded eyes. Satoru just wanted to carve this core memory in his brain, forever. Was it Heaven ? He didn’t need much to feel like ascending to paradise when he was by your side. Nothing, really. Just you. 
“You sore loser, I-I won- ahahaha !” you giggle endlessly.
The moment the white haired sorcerer was about to reply, his phone rang. He rolls his eyes, sighing and doing this grumpy expression that always makes you melt. He grabs the phone in his jean pocket, keeping you pinned on the ground with his other hand. As he answers the call, his nose scrunch up, and he groans.
“Really ?... A mission, now ?... I cleared my schedule today on purpose…” he says, playing with your hair while looking annoyed at the voice on the other side of the line. You stay quiet, smile faltering at what you hear.
 “Ugh- yeah… Yeah. Alright… Just send me the information… I’ll be on my way… Yeah yeah. Bye,” he hangs up the phone, putting it back in his pocket. He sighs, deeply, a long one. He looks back at you and then takes your face in his hands before kissing your forehead.
“A curse appeared somewhere and is threatening citizens. I’m sorry, I gotta go, sweetheart. I’ll give you your massage when I come back,” he softly explained, in a tone of voice that showed just how tired he was. You lift yourself on your elbows, frown deepening. Clearly, he was the one that deserved this massage. 
“I get it, it’s not your fault. I’ll go buy groceries for dinner, then. I’m sure you will be starving, anyways,” you chuckle softly to lighten the mood. He grins at your words, and helps you standing up before putting back on his blindfold.
“You know me so well. Buy cookies too, please. I need my daily sugar intake !” he teases.
“You and your sweet tooth-” you start to answer in a tiny sigh, but get cut off by his lips tenderly and softly pressing against yours.
“See you, I’ll be back in no time,” he finishes. You can’t help but look at him lovingly.
Some minutes later, you were on your way to the grocery store. It wasn’t far away from home, so the walk was quick. Hands grabbing two bags, one full of sweets, for your childlike man, and the other with what you needed to use to cook dinner. But then, you feel like something is passing by you. You frown, a shiver running down your skin, unable to see anything in this half lonely street. It even felt cold, strangely cold. It passes again, and you were sure you indeed felt something. But you have no time to ponder more, when you realize that your bag of groceries, one of them, got cut in two and some of the oranges fell and now are rolling down the street. 
“What ? No, no !” you exclaim, crouching down and trying to put it back together, yet one of them escapes your fingers and rolls and rolls… before stopping in front of the foot of someone. A hand grabs it, and you lift your head to look at the person, or your savior.
It’s a man, with jet black long hair, half tied in a bun, striking purple eyes, and a soft expression on his face.
“Is this yours ?” he asks in such a delicate tone of voice that you just nod quietly at first, not answering with your own words. “Here,” he approaches and gives it back to you. You take it, and then smile a bit nervously as he dust his fingers on his jacket.
“Thank you so much. I- uh.. I don’t know what happened, but my bag suddenly got cut in two ? That’s weird, ahah,” you end up explaining, still unsure on how it could have happened. You look down, and groan at the mess. With a broken bag, how could you bring that home ?
“Yeah, that looks like… a mess. Need some help ?” he asks gently, crouching down too and smiling at you. You swallow your saliva, mesmerized against your will by the way he talks. 
“Oh, that’s very nice of you. But… With a broken bag, and another full one, I don’t think you could help me that much,” you chuckle a bit awkwardly, bringing back all the products together, trying to think of a way to come back home with this inconvenience.
“I have a bag with me. You could put your groceries inside, that would be easier,” he proposes as he lifts his eyes, staring right back at your soul. You think for a second.
“That would be very nice, actually… Thank’s a lot,” you end up accepting, not wanting to lose too much time outside. You had dinner to cook, after all.
The black haired man takes out a tote bag of his jacket, unfolds it, and then helps you assemble all the scattered groceries inside. You keep thanking him, a bit awkwardly, and once it’s done you slide the bag over your shoulder. You stand back up, and he does the same, towering over you.
“I live right by the corner. I’ll give you the bag back, don’t worry,” you explain as you show with your hands the apartment building at the left of the street, and start to walk. His eyes follow you, before looking at where you were pointing at, hands in his pockets. He smirked at himself, but you couldn’t see it. It only lasted for a second.
“You can keep it, I don’t mind,” he retorts, shaking his head and giving you a reassuring smile. You take a stop and turn around to face him, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s alright, I’ll be quick. It’s only normal, after all. You helped me, so..,” you start to answer,  but he cuts you off, “I insist. Keep it.”
You sigh and end up nodding, giving him a small smile, “alright, thank you,” you accept.
“You’re welcome, hum…”
“Y/n,” you say.
“Right. Goodbye then, y/n,” he finishes, insisting on your name, taking out of his pocket one of his hands to wave at you, before turning on his heels and leaving without waiting for an answer. You wave back, saying goodbye, and turn around too to walk back home.
You realize you forgot to ask about his name. Whatever, it’s not like you would see him again. Thankful of his help, you enter your apartment and unpack your groceries. Once everything is where it should be, ready to start cooking, you look at the bag. Curious, you look inside and realize that a name was written with black ink on the tissue. You squint your eyes, half of it erased by the time.
Suguru… Suguru G something, you couldn’t read the last letters. 
So, Suguru was his name.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
After dinner, you and Satoru were cleaning the dishes, him complaining about his mission and how boring it was, that they could have asked someone else to do it since it was way too easy for him. Tipicall whining behavior of your boyfriend, after all. You nod, still having a hard time understanding this whole concept of his hollow purple and red and blue… Unable to see cursed energy, it was complicated for you to fathom this type of things. But you still tried to, anyway.
“So, he gave you his bag ? What a gentleman. Should I feel threatened, hmm ?” Jokes Satoru, raising his eyebrows as he mentions back your little adventure in the street earlier. You chuckle softly, drying a plate and putting it down next to the sink.
“You don’t have to worry about that, he was just being helpful. Hey, without his bag, there would have been no dinner tonight ! Only… your bag of sweets,” you retorts, and Satoru nudges you playfully, still washing a glass of water.
“I don’t mind eating cookies for dinner, you know that,” he muses, and you roll your eyes at his antics. Him and his sweet tooth… 
“What was his name, by the way ?” he asks, rinsing the glass under the lukewarm water of the sink.
“Uh.. Suguru, I think,” you answer, shrugging, not very sure after all. 
The moment you say this, Satoru freezes and tightens his grip on the glass of water before putting it down silently. He suddenly looks tense, and you frown, unsure at why he acted like that.
“Suguru, you say ? Alright,” he ends up humming, keeping his back turned to you and mindlessly whipping the remains of dishes. You can’t see his facial expression anymore, and you get even more suspicious.
“Is there something wrong ?” you question, raising an eyebrow and narrowing your eyes at his reaction.
“Nope, baby,” he suddenly acts back like his cheerful self, giving you a wink when he turns around to face you again. Even though it’s only been 2 months that you were dating Gojo Satoru, you still could sense when he was lying. Even if it was subtil.
“You don’t like the name ‘Suguru’ ?” you ask, stepping closer, laughing a bit nervously. That would be... absurd. Why would he even hate a name ? His smile falters, but quickly gains back its fake silliness.
“Nah, I just knew someone that was named like that,” he explains vaguely on purpose, walking past you towards the living room. Oh, you narrow your eyes even more, twice suspicious now. He clearly wasn’t telling you everything. Satoru was secretive concerning some information about his life as a sorcerer, and about… his past too. Since it’s only been a few short months that you were his girlfriend, you didn’t insist or pressure him to open up to you. Your relationship with him was still young, after all. No need to rush things. You respected his privacy, to a certain extent.
“Someone ? Alright,” you say, not continuing on the topic, sitting next to him as he slides his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer.
“How about tomorrow we go on a date, yeah ?” he suddenly proposes, changing subjects out of the blue.
“Will it be okay ? Nobody that knows you would see us together, right ?” you question, knowing that your relationship with Satoru had to be kept a secret for your safety.
“Nah, I’ll make sure of that. Don’t worry sweetcheeks,” he muses as he brings your face closer and kisses the hollow of your neck.
You smile at him, teasing him about how he needs to give you a massage since earlier that evening you won the wrestling game. He chuckles, bringing you to the bedroom. But as the night went on, you couldn’t help but notice how his mind looked elsewhere, and how he kept glancing at the grocery bag, and the name “Suguru” written on the tissue…
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
In this cold weather of February, you were walking outside with Satoru. Cold hands, yet they get warmed by his fingers tangling with yours and putting them in his pocket. He gives you a cheeky grin, rosy cheeks and red nose from the freezing wind. You sniff a bit, feeling like you could catch a cold with this temperature.
“How about we go see a movie ? You know, the new horror one that just went out. We saw it yesterday when watching this pastries tv-show,” he wiggles his eyebrows, taunting you. You inhale and exhale loudly, remembering the trailer of this so-called movie that you saw passing by on TV. 
“I’m going to shit my pants ! We could watch something else-” you start to retort, shaking your head, but Satoru rolls his eyes and brings you towards the entrance of the theatre.
“But I want you to get all scared and to cling to me like a damsel in distress, saying “oh Satoru my love, protect me ! I’m so scared ! Kyaaaa !” See ?” he exclaims as he suddenly clings to you, using a high pitched voice that could make your ears bleed and you cringe slightly. You repress a laugh, pinching his side under his thick layer of clothes.
“You really wanna bully me, uh ? I’m sure in the end it would be you that would be terrified, more than me,” you scoff and your white haired boyfriend acts exaggeratedly offended, opening the door to let the both of you enter the building.
“Excuse me ? I’m used to seeing horrifying things everyday, it’s not a horror movie that would scare me, period,” he refutes, the coldness of outside leaving you to instead be the warmth of the inside. You then remember back that indeed, in the line of work of your boyfriend, he was used to dealing with terrifying curses every day. Based on what he described you.
“Well, sorry, but not me,” you complain. After a little back and forth with him, you ended up going to buy the tickets of the movie, while Satoru went to obviously buy the snacks, which meant tons, and tons of sugary food.
As you walk back with the tickets in hand, searching for your busy boyfriend at the candy aisle, your eyes catch something in the crowd. Curious, you snap your head to the side, frowning, before perceiving long black hair tied in a half bun, and purple eyes. You part your lips, surprised to see the grocery guy, Suguru, if you remember well, coming out of the bathroom. He gives you a look, and then the moment his stare meets yours, a smirk draws on his lips.
“Y/n ?” he asks, surprised too.
“Fancy to see you here, humm.. Suguru, is that right ? It was written on the tote bag that you gave me yesterday,” you exclaim, smiling back and feeling quite funny from this situation. It could be destiny, at this point. Nah, too cliche. 
“Suguru, that’s right. I hope yesterday you could come back home safe with your groceries,” he answers in a soft voice, one that makes you think he must be a really calm and nice guy. Not to add how he helped you yesterday. What a mistake. 
“Thanks to you. Are you here to watch a movie ? Or you already did ?” you continue.
“I already finished watching the movie, the new horror one,” he tells you, crossing his arms on his chest and showing you with his chin his ticket in his hand. You barely look at it, not realizing that the ticket was odd, and then back at him.
“No way ! I’m here too, with my boyfriend, to watch it,” you smile answering that, this coincidence being rather unusual. You notice how his eyes narrow slightly at the word ‘boyfriend’, but then he smiles back as if nothing happened. 
“Boyfriend ? I see. Then enjoy, y/n. See you maybe next time,” he waves at you, before quickly disappearing in the crowd, and in no time he already left. 
The moment you join back Satoru that just finished buying all the snacks, arms full of popcorn, candies, and drinks, you shake your head and walk faster to reach him and help him with everything that he is holding.
“Did you really buy all this ? Is it for the two of us or a whole army ?” you chuckle, and Satoru pouts, plopping a candy in his mouth as he slides his hand in your lower back to make you walk towards the employee that checks your tickets.
“Sweetheart… You know I can eat for ten, don’t be ridiculous,” he rolls his eyes answering that. 
“It’s your stomach that is ridiculous, I don’t know how you can keep your abs with all this food” you tease back, both walking towards the theatre room after getting your tickets checked.
“The gods really like me,” he muses.
The moment you sit next to him, putting down the food to get comfortable, Satoru kisses your cheek exaggeratedly to make you embarrassed, like he always does, but then he freezes for a second. He narrows his eyes and lowers his sunglasses, looking at you with so much seriousness that you thought you did something wrong for a second.
“What is that smell on you ?” he asks, not a single hint of a joke in his voice.
“Uh ? Do I smell bad ? I showered and put my usual perfume, though” you retort, sniffing your arm and raising back your head towards him. The scent that was glued to your clothes were the exact same as usual, and confusion takes even more possession of your body.
“No, that’s not what I mean,” he whispers more like to himself, getting closer to you a moment. His face is right on your neck, and you get even more confused. Satoru swore he just smelled the cursed energy of Geto Suguru on your skin, a scent that he didn’t have the chance to smell since… years. But why would there be his cursed energy on you ? If he was there, he would have seen him. Yet, his six eyes didn’t notice anything abnormal in the movie theatre. 
“Uh…”
“Nevermind, love. Give me the caramel popcorns, please !” he suddenly changes subject and shows you back his big goofy smile. Quickly, you forget whatever had happened before indulging him, rolling your eyes with a hint of a grin on your lips. A few minutes later, the movie started.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
On this sunday afternoon, sun high in the sky and birds flying above your head, you decided to secretly meet your boyfriend outside of his workplace. The jujutsu high campus. It was to bring him some documents he needed for his paperwork that he forgot at your apartment. To be honest, you had nothing to do and just wanted to see him, even though he could have come and teleported at your place instead. But Satoru was Satoru, and you were you. Two very stubborn people.
Squeezing your bag against your left side, you follow the itinerary he gives you while you are on call with him. Left, right, turn here, go straight until the grey wall, turn there, etc… It felt like a damn maze. But oh, you insisted on meeting at the front red door of the domain, wanting to be able to have a glimpse in real life of where he works, instead of the pics he showed you on snowy nights, talking about his life.
“Baby, I can teleport right where you are, you know ?” Satoru urges you, a pout in his voice.
“Satoru, I can walk. I have nothing else to do, whatever. So wait for me at the rendez-vous place,” you repeat again for the second, third, no, fifth time. You hear a huff coming from the other line of the phone, and you imagine him rolling his eyes dramatically.
“Geez, alright, alright... Well, now, you need to climb the stairs all up to the top, and I’ll be right here,” he continues to explain, looking at where you are from the location you sent him on your phone. The little red spot on the map flickers, showing your position.
“No other sorcerer is around, yeah ?” you ask to be sure. That was risky, after all, coming here. You wouldn’t want anyone to catch you coming, but you still wished to see this place with your own eyes, even if slightly from far away.
“Uh-uh, don’t worry. All clear. I will be able to kiss you senseless without any prying eyes !” he muses happily, as if it was the sweetest treat he could ask for. You snicker at his words.
“Who said I would let you ?” you mock sarcastically.
“Awww, don’t be so mean…” he whines dramatically.
You chuckle and continue to walk. You look up at the sky. There are no more birds, nor the sound of their voices. The forest surrounding the stairs is quiet all of a sudden. That made you look around for a second. Suddenly, a squall of wind makes you shiver head to toe, and you squeeze your jacket tighter against you. It gets stronger, and you feel like you could fall from where you were standing. Your heart brutally stops, before starting to beat dangerously fast all over again. You have a hard time breathing, each inhale being ragged, your whole body tensed and screaming at you to run, and fast. You step back, when squinting your eyes, you see what seems like a shadow some meter away from you. Tall, looming, eerie. It was the first time you saw something like that, and you end up utterly terrified, shaking like a leaf.
“Y/n, are you okay ? You stopped moving…” mumbles Satoru in a sudden more serious voice, looking at your location. Some wind makes his hair move in the air, and he directly narrows his eyes. Something is off. He could sense it, smell it. 
“Satoru-...” you manage to whisper, stepping back again, horrified by this shadow slowly becoming clearer to you, looking like a… monster. Were you crazy ? A hallucination ? Or was that… a curse, like your boyfriend described them to you. Why is it scarier than you imagined, worse than the horror movie you saw two weeks ago. Way worse, to be honest. You couldn’t even fathom the fear that was running down your veins.
“Y/n, run as quick as you can, I’m on my way. ” The voice of Satoru snaps you back to reality, and you shiver head to toe as you directly spin around on your heels and dash towards the opposite way. You didn’t even need to make him repeat twice, or to have the time to understand what he asked, no, ordered you to do. Just by the simple word “run”, you were already running.
You breath heavily, racing as fast as you could, and the moment you check behind you to see if that curse was following you and tracking you down, you almost fall when the answer is yes. You let out a scream, the monster smiling in such a feral and unhinged way, opening its mouth wide with big crooked teeth, ready to jump you.  Horrible ! You then stumble on a rock, a damn rock that was coincidently on your way, and you scratch your knee as you fall down on the ground, making you bleed. You yelp, closing your eyes, not wanting to see an ugly curse as the last thing before dying. Everything was going way too quick for you to have the time to stand back up. 
The moment it’s about to reach your body, you hear an explosion meters away.
“Domain expansion, infinite void,” a cold and unwavering voice echoes in the depth of your being.
A scream of despair, and then… nothing. Just the quietness. A second pass where you slowly bat your lashes, ears ringing and feeling dizzy. The moment your vision is back to normal, you directly are facing your boyfriend scooping you in his arm without waiting any more second. His blindfold is down on his collar, a mad expression on his usual cheerful face. 
“Are you okay ?” he asks, six eyes analyzing you up and down with a hint of fear in them.
“I… I guess…” you whisper, still shaken from what happened.
“You’re bleeding, I’ll get you to Shoko,” he announces, turning around and starting to walk, squeezing you against him. You open your eyes wider, remembering that this woman was a friend of Satoru, and a jujutsu sorcerer.
“Will it be okay ?!”
“Don’t worry, I can trust her to not say anything about it. Let’s not lose any more time,” he finishes. And it’s only now that you realize how much your knee is painfully throbbing, all your adrenaline dying down to just let the suffering in your veins. You hiss, biting your lower lip to not scream.
Satoru then teleports, and in the first time of knowing him, you enter the Jujutsu campus. For the best, or for the worst. 
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
“Here you go, all good now,” exclaims Shoko after finishing to heal you, stepping back and sliding a cigarette in between her lips. Amazed, you look at her. How could that be possible ? Your knee was as new as before, only your jeans were ripped at the mid section. You move your leg a bit, realizing that it’s really not hurting anymore. Indeed, it was like magic.
“Wow, thanks a lot,” you whisper, and she winks at you, saying that she does this type of trick everyday.
“How come a curse attacked me ?” you ask, still scared of what you saw. Satoru is sitting next to you and having his arm wrapped around your shoulders, thumb softly caressing your skin as a way to calm yourself, or maybe it was for himself, you didn’t know.
“It was awfully close to tengen’s barrier, so that is the question. It almost never happens, unless the campus is under attack,” starts to ponder Satoru, sighing and massaging his temples as a way to smooth away his starting headache. It reminded him of what happened years ago, with the star plasma vessel mission, and Toji. The man that he killed with his own hands. 
“Yet nothing to signal, campus is safe for now,” adds Shoko, ready to light her cigarette, but Satoru snatches it away, making her glare at him.
“Don’t smoke, I already told you to stop that shit. Even more in front of my girl !” he complains, acting like the scent of the cigarette in his hands could make him throw up. Shoko takes it back and puts it again in its box, sighing.
“You’re a pain in the ass. But anyway, I’ll go tell Yaga that a curse appeared in front of the barrier and got dealt with by you. Don’t worry, I won’t mention the presence of your girlfriend,” she announces before giving you a smile, and then leaves after you thank her again.
Back alone in the infirmary room of the school, it’s quiet. Satoru is lost in thoughts, a guilty expression on his pretty face. He takes a deep breath, and then inhales longly.
“I don’t understand. Was it targeted against you specifically ? That could be a possibility, but how and why, that’s what I’m trying to get here,” he starts to question, frustrated.
“You think someone or something knows our secret ? But we hid it so well so far !” you retort, and Satoru stands up, walking in circles, thinking about the possible answer.
“That would be surprising. As far as I know, I always made sure that no one could discover, aside from Shoko, but that doesn’t count. She met you after the attack. So it’s maybe a coincidence. Let’s hope it is. If not… I’ll have to deal with our problem.”
“You mean… killing someone ?” you whisper, and he stops in his track to look at you in the eyes.
“Yeah. I already killed sorcerers in the past. Obviously, bad ones that went against ethics and the law. Not every person born with cursed energy uses it for the good, you know ? It’s my job to protect people, not only from curses, but including sorcerers too. It would be the same for someone that would target your life,” he affirms, no budging in his voice. You swallow thickly. You already knew what Satoru had to deal with, but as a non sorcerer, a normal human, it still felt weird to hear such things coming out of the voice of someone, even more from your own boyfriend.
“Yeah, I get it…” you sigh. He sighs too, and wraps his arm around you softly, cradling you against his chest and kissing the top of your head affectionately. 
“It’s for that it’s better to keep it a secret. For your safety… having a bounty on your head would mean exterminating any menace that would come your way,” he finishes, looking at you, and you stare at the shine in the blue of his iris, showing all the seriousness in the world. After all, since the minute he was born, Gojo Satoru has been chased down with deadly bounties on his head. He knew better than anyone else the feeling of constantly being tracked down. Each.minute.of.his.life. 
“I know, now let’s go do something that would occupy my mind. I don’t want to think back about what happened. I’m sure I will have nightmares…” you whisper and groan.
“Let’s go eat mochis downtown !” Satoru jumps back on his feet, all smiling now.
“Ah, but wait, you still have work to do. I literally brought you the documents you needed,” you disagree all of a sudden, yet Satoru still takes your hand to coax you to stand up.
“Screw that, you’re at the top of my to do list,” he shakes his head, insisting. You end up smiling, and follow him.
You didn’t know this day, how he meant his words. ‘Exterminating any menace that would come your way.’ 
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
You were just finished with your day. Satoru would come to pay you a visit later in the night, since he was busy with missions and only available starting 10 PM. Taking the metro, you try to think of what you could eat for dinner tonight. Ordering food or cooking it ? That would just depend on how exhausted you are, at this point. You hold your ground as the train starts to move again once people are finished to enter the wagon and the door closes. You see a glimpse of someone tall with long black hair in a half tied bun.
Wait. Is that... Suguru ? You frown, and the moment you look at the silhouette better, he disappears. You were sure that for a second he was standing right in front of you. Were you hallucinating ? Yeah, you were tired… Why would you even hallucinate about this guy, anyways ?
As you leave the metro some minutes after, you pass by the small streets towards your apartment. When looking at the window of a store, you swear you saw in the reflection of it the damn grocery guy again ! You squint your eyes, stepping back. Nothing. Only you, and the passersby.
“I’m fucking crazy…” you whisper, shaking your head and continuing your walk.  
You look at your phone, and now you find yourself alone in the quietness of the night. Each step echoes in the silence. It’s too silent, you think. The light lamp of the alley illuminates your way. You put back your phone in your pocket when a cold wind caresses your neck, giving you goosebumps. You shiver, from head to toe, as if ice was rubbing against your skin. You snap back your attention, remembering oh so well this feeling. This same feeling that you had not so long ago… And here, standing in front of you, another shadow, a taller, much much taller one, compared to last time. Its eyes were yellow, and weird substance was emanating from its skin as an eerie high pitched voice murmured words that you couldn’t understand or make out.
Your stomach drops on your heels, and you stumble backwards, ready to scream of fear and run away. The moment you open your mouth, your back bumps into someone. You turn around sharply, only to be met with purple eyes.
“Are you okay…? Oh ? Y/n ? Is that you ?” asks the voice, and you can’t help but feel reassured to not be alone anymore. But quickly, still in panic, and afraid for your damn life, you exclaim as you directly step away.
“No, run ! It will attack you, otherwise-” 
“What are you talking about ? There is nothing here,” answers Suguru, grabbing your jacket to stop you from running away. Your breath gets caught in your throat, ready to yell at him, but when you spin around you realize that indeed, nothing or noone else was here. The shadow disappeared, and your heart slowly beats at a more normal pace.
“What ? But- I swear I…” you stutter.
“Ah, you must be tired. Maybe you should go back home. Is your boyfriend here to help you ?” he raises his eyebrow when softly answering, letting go of his grip on your clothes. You look at it then back at him again, and you feel reassured.
“No, he arrives later…” you whisper. You felt like what you saw wasn’t just you dreaming, but reality. It was here, in front of you. How could it have disappeared like that ? 
“Are you okay ? Want me to call him for you, to ask him to come get you ? What’s his name ?” he questions, eying you down.
Still in panic, you continue to look around frequently. Wanting to make sure that the curse really wasn’t waiting for any moment to come back and get you. Flashbacks of what happened before, how it was running after you, and if Satoru was one second late, how you would be probably six feet underground. You dig your nails in your palm, breathing heavily, unable to calm down.
“I… Uh... his name is Satoru,” you start to answer, and you see how the look of Suguru darkens, but quickly comes back to normal. “I’ll call him myself, it’s alright,” you finish.
“Want me to stay until he arrives ? It wouldn’t feel right to leave you in such a state, alone…” he hums, shaking his head as he crosses his arms over his chest while staring at you. 
“If you don’t mind, yeah…” you answer as you lean against the wall, and with a shaky hand you dial the number of your boyfriend in front of the purple eyes of your savior. He quickly answers, and you can hear how he is fighting at the same time some curse, but still decided to pick up the call.
“Yeah baby ? I’m dealing with some shitty low grades at the same time, hope you don’t mind !” he exclaims cheerfully, and in the background you can hear sounds of objects breaking. You put the phone tighter against your cheek, making sure only you could hear him. Well, that’s what you thought.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but can you come, please. I think.. it appeared again. I’m scared to the bones, not gonna lie. That shit is making me feel crazy,” you answer, turning your head as you sniff, biting your lower lip nervously and eyes roaming around, quite everywhere, sometimes landing on the black haired male that stares at you.
“What ? Alright, send me your location, I won’t take long. Are you alone ?” suddenly asks seriously Satoru, more grave now in his tone of voice. At the same time, you send your location as asked.
“No, I’m with, you know, Suguru, the guy that helped me last time. I bumped into him,” you explain, looking at him and he smiles as his eyes meet yours. 
Suguru. The moment this name left your mouth, Satoru froze. In one go, he activates his technique, done with fooling around, and hollow purple his opponent. In a ragged breath, he replies : 
“I’m on my way, don’t move.”
He hangs up, and you realize that he must have teleported. You face Suguru, and you try to give him a reassuring smile. Well, you should be the one to get reassured in this situation, actually.
“He’s on the way, he will soon be here, don’t worry,” you resume.
“I don’t worry about me, but more for you. Are you feeling better ? Was someone following you ?” he shakes his head answering that, tilting his head to the side.
“Something, yeah, I don’t know ? It’s complicated..” you try to say vaguely. After all, you couldn’t say to someone you barely knew that a curse was probably after you. Barely one year ago, before meeting Satoru, you had no idea about the existence of such things. Suguru narrows his eyes, letting out a hum.
“Looks like you are cursed, y/n,” he simply states, staring back at you. You shiver, and snap back your head at him.
“Cursed ? Ahah, what do you mean ?” you frown, replying with a quivering voice. Shit, you looked even more suspicious. But hey, wait, that was his answer, that was suspicious. Rather than yours.
“Don’t play dumb, y/n. I’m talking about curses,” he steps closer, smiling at you as if it was funny, and that this whole situation was just dumb. Where you dumb ?
“What ? Wait, hold on, you-”
“Looks like your boyfriend Gojo Satoru is back,” he cuts you off.
You directly turn around, snapping back towards the street. Meters away you see indeed the white haired male looking around, and when he spots you he rushes, you do too, and he catches you in his arms. His grip is tight and comforting, keeping you safe in the crook of his chest.
“I’m here, it’s alright. I sense no curses anymore, you’re safe,” he whispers in your ear, gazing around, blindfold off his eyes scanning the area.
“Anymore ? So it was here earlier, I wasn’t crazy ?” you ask with both fear and hope at the same time. A weird mix of feelings, to be honest. A horrifying duality.
“I sense its presence very faintly, as if it vanished,” Satoru continues to whisper, caressing your back to soothe you down, allowing your breathing to slow calmly back.
Talking about vanishing, you lift your eyes, only to realize that the black haired male disappeared, leaving only the two of you alone in this gloomy alley.
“Where is the guy ?” questions your boyfriend, lifting his head off your neck, hand on your cheek.
“Suguru ? He left already, I guess…” you reply, staring at the empty spot, and you sigh. Satoru narrows his eyes, humming, eyes scanning the area again.
“Let’s get you back home, ‘kay ?” he ends up saying, deciding to investigate this on his own. After all, he did sense again the faint smell of Suguru’s cursed energy. Geto Suguru, more exactly. And that couldn’t be a coincidence anymore. The Suguru you met was 99% sure the Suguru he knew. Satoru wasn’t an idiot. But he couldn’t let you know.
“Alright.. Thanks for coming, love,” you smile and he kisses softly your lips as a light peck. 
“Anytime,” he answers, before bringing you back home. Satoru wasn’t joking as usual, or teasing you as much as he does. He seemed preoccupied with something, surely about what happened, but it felt odd. The evening goes on, and Satoru stays at your side all night long.
As you cuddle your boyfriend in bed, half asleep and basking in the warmth of his body spooning yours, your eyes snap back open.
Hold on. Suguru said Gojo Satoru earlier. But you only remember giving him his name, and nothing more. How could he know his last name ? Did you imagine things ? 
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
A whole month and a half passed. You quickly managed to forget about what happened, thanks to the help of Satoru, and forgot the weird things that Suguru said that night. It was even easier, since you didn’t see him again. In this month of february, you were covered in thick layers of blankets, keeping you warm as you drink hot chocolate in your cup. Satoru comes back from his shower, hair damp and changed into comfortable pajamas. With time, he ended up putting more and more of his personal stuff in your apartment, slowly becoming an important part of your life as your boyfriend. 
“Lemme take a sip,” he whines, suddenly sitting next to you on the couch and wrapping his cold arms around you. You shiver head to toe, yet he keeps his hands tightly against your skin.
“You’re freezing cold !” you exclaim, and he nonetheless takes a sip from your cup, smiling and licking his lips as he puts it back down. He squeezes your stomach, kissing your neck.
“Warm me up, then,” he coos, and makes you lie back down on the couch, straddling you as he continues to snuzzle your chest and draping the remaining blankets over the two of you.
“Don’t get too cozy, I’ll have to leave in 20 minutes,” you say, and he huffs, butterfly kissing your throat before biting your cheek smugly.
“Why do you have to go ? Can’t you stay here with your amazing boyfriend ?” he complains, and you squirm but he bites your cheek again, the left one this time. Not too hard, obviously.
“I promised my friend I would come, and hey, stop biting me-” you retort, and it results only in the chuckle of Satoru vibrating against your skin. He kisses it softly, as a way to make himself forgiven.
“I’ll wait here then, like a good househusband,” he muses and pecks your lips. You grin against his mouth, cool fingers caressing his face and looking at him in the eyes.
“You wish you were, uh ?” you tease him.
“Hmm, that would be a nice change from the constant draining work as The Strongest…” he whispers, cupping your breast in the palm of his hand under your shirt, and moving his lips against yours. You let out a breath of pleasure, his tongue licking your lower lip to allow him access. You slightly open your mouth, and start to make out with him in an affectionate and loving way. He lifts himself on his elbow, deepening the kiss to make it considerably more heated. His knee slides and gets in between your thighs, parting them inch by inch and pressing against your core on purpose. You moan slightly, and he smirks as he breathes more heavily, clearly getting turned on at your oh so sweet voice doing such noises.
You graze your nails against his undercut, making him shiver. He massages your breast, thumb caressing your nipple while his knee grinds against you. It hardens, and you arch slightly your back. He smiles even more, using his other hand to grab your hips to press you more against his grinding knee. The pleasure is slowly heating up, but before it gets too ahead of yourselves, you break the kiss.
“Satoru, I need to get ready,” you whisper. He pouts, slowly letting you go, and sighs before leaving you some space, doing a last final peck on your nose.
“Yeah yeah, my beautiful wife is getting taken away from me,” he whines dramatically. 
“Okay you dramaqueen,” you roll your eyes, and leave the warmth of the cushion to stand up and go take your bag and put on your coat and shoes. Satoru trails behind you and suddenly gives you his wallet. You raise an eyebrow, surprised.
“Use my card while you are out, and please yourself. In that way, it’s as if I would be with you. I mean, my wallet and money will, actually…” he explains his train of thoughts, and before you can answer he puts it inside your back. You were about to protest, but he started to push you outside towards the main door.
“Satoru that is so sweet, but you didn’t need to-”
“Nuh-uh, I insist. Spoil yourself, but don't drink too much, ‘kay ?” he interrupts you. You smile softly once you are two feet outside, and then bring him in a close hug. He wraps his arms around you too in return, and you go on your toes to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you, ‘toru. I’ll call you when I’m on my way back home, alright ?” 
“Go have fun !” he waves goodbye at you as you step back, and you give him one last glance before walking outside.
The evening goes by, and meeting with your friends to drink was upgrading your mood. You did use the card of Satoru, but still made it on purpose to not drink too much alcohol. After all, you wanted to come back home safe. And not like a drunk mess.
In the dim light of the bar, you lay back against the chair, looking at the ceiling after paying your final consumption. While you put back the card into your boyfriend’s wallet, you accidentally make something fall. You catch it on your thighs, and squint your eyes when you realize it’s an old picture of Satoru. He was in the company of who you recognized as Shoko, thanks to the mole and the cigarette in between her lips. But then the person to his other side strangely feels like his looks are familiar. Black hair tied in a bun, purple eyes, and ear piercings… Wait wait wait. Is that… on this pic... grocery guy, aka Suguru, with your boyfriend ? No way, no fucking way.
That’s crazy. No. Are you even sure ? Slightly panicked, all the dots connecting together, you turn around the picture and read what is written in small letters behind “Satoru, Suguru, Ieri, 2006”. You blink, once, twice.
That is Suguru. The Suguru you met multiple times, is the Suguru of the past of Satoru. This so-called “someone” he once knew. A strange feeling takes place in your gut, as if something was wrong, damn wrong. You swallow thickly, and now you understand how and why he had said all these weird things before, his reactions too. But, why… Why didn't Satoru tell you more about him ? All you knew is that they knew each other in the past. Nothing more, nothing else. Gojo was secretive, very secretive about this. It was apparently for the better, but right now, it was for your worst. 
Oh oh, you can’t shake off that nagging feeling, starting to be nervous and panicked. Something definitely was wrong in whatever happened this past weeks.
“I’ll go outside to get some fresh air,” you suddenly annonce to your friends, trying to smile to reassure them as they look concerned. You barely put back your coat, keeping in your hand the picture as you step out without waiting for an answer.
You lay against a wall, looking at the people passing by. You take deep breaths, trying to put some order in your mind. As you look up, seconds pass while you stare at the sky, but then, it’s as if everything got even darker than the night. It was like a veil was falling around you. You look back around, and you are now alone in the street. Your breath catches in your throat and you directly decide to go back inside the bar, not liking this at all.
The wind, cold and freezing, caresses your neck. Your heart jumps in your thoracic cage, and you feel sweat rolling down your forehead of nervousness and fear slowly creeping down your back. You decide to walk faster.
“Y/n, where do you think you are going ?” announces a familiar voice behind you.
You directly turn on your heels, and you are met with Suguru, his hair down, and in a different attire that you were used to seeing him. His presentence was far more gloomy, and the monk clothes he was wearing made him look like someone else. More like… the real him. And you knew at this moment that you were in danger. No matter how and why, you were in danger.
“Suguru ?! What is happening here ?” you snap, on edge.
“Satoru didn’t explain it to you ? I casted a veil. It’s only us in here,” he answers as if it was mock evidence, eying you up and down. He suddenly didn’t look as friendly as before. You step back, squeezing the picture in between your fingers.
“What the- are you a sorcerer too, then ? I just saw this picture and... Fuck. What is going on right now ?!” you start to panic, looking around again and again. You felt trapped.
“I guess he didn’t talk much about me. Even though we were best friends. Well, it’s understandable. You are a non sorcerer. It’s not like you would get it, anyways,” he sighs, shaking his head as if he was disappointed. 
“No, he didn’t. But that’s... for now it’s not the most important. I want you to tell me why you are here, casting this veil, and what are your real intentions. Because I doubt now that each time we met, it was from pure accidents or coincidences” you deduce, your gut screaming to you that it was right. You weren’t that dumb, after all.
“You’re smarter than I thought, for a non sorcerer,” he chuckles dryly, slowly walking towards you and circling you. You keep your eyes on him, feeling cornered.
“See, the problem here, is that I would have never expected that the grand Gojo Satoru would be dating a normal human. Imagine my surprise ! You just are a weakness, a big weakness for him, at this point,” he explains, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes as he caresses his chin. 
“How did you discover that ?!” you exclaim, stepping away, not answering the way he pathetically described you. 
“I wasn’t sure at first. Because of my way of life, I always have to keep an eye on Gojo Satoru. One of my curses reported to me that he saw you frequently at his sides when he was being as a civilian outside. I had to see it for myself... That was easy. Well, you were the one that told me yourself that you had a boyfriend, named Satoru. It didn’t take me much, actually.”
Oh, poor you. You didn’t know who Geto Suguru was, aside from the past best friend of your boyfriend. How could you have the clue that he deflected Jujutsu Society years ago to become a wanted criminal, creating a cult, despising non sorcerers to his soul. How could you, really ? Satoru should have told you, and maybe, more likely surely, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation. 
“So all along… it was to get an answer… Did you staged all this ? From the very beginning ?!” you almost stutter, utterly shocked and feeling like a mouse getting played by a cat. 
“Yeah,” he simply responds casually, as if it wasn’t the most mind blowing thing you heard today. You gasp, eyes wide open.
“What is wrong with you…” you whisper horrified.
“Oh no, the only wrong thing here is you, y/n. Do you really not know who I am aside from your boyfriend's past best friend ? That could have maybe helped you out there,” he sighs and gets closer, menacing.
“You’re a goddamn devil in disguise, that’s what you are,” you add, narrowing your eyes and clenching your hands, angered. 
“Close. I’m just doing what I think is right, getting rid of the filthy things that stench this world. You’re part of that, actually. But well, I started to get attached to you, you see ? Funny when I despise you at the same time. Too bad you’re a non sorcerer, and the girlfriend of my now nemesis,” he ends up brutally, face suddenly becoming as cold as ice and then raising his hand up, a black spiral forming on his palm.
In utter fear of what could happen, you quickly try to run away, not wanting to lose any more time, knowing what would occur next would be bad, very bad for you, if you didn’t exit quickly. But the moment you rush towards the end of the veil, a big, more like gigantic bird, as huge as a dinosaur, appears before you and opens his mouth wide. Masked men jump out of it, and suddenly grab you and one yanks you brutally towards them. You try to squirm, like a wild and feral animal, but they drag you with them back towards the bird without much difficulty, threatening you. You just have the time to scream, that it swallows you in its mouth, and then all you see is pitch black before the void. 
The curse vanishes, as soon as Suguru Geto does as well. The veil is gone, and the only thing that is left is the old picture of the trio on the cold ground of the lonely street.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
Back to the present. February 16, 11 : 26 PM, Gojo Satoru exterminated 7 upper grades curses. 
12 : 06 AM, Gojo Satoru killed 5 sorcerers.
It wasn’t hard to trail back to you, actually. The moment you disappeared, your friends didn’t take long to notice your vanishment. They tried to contact at first people that they were sure would know maybe where you were. Going on your phone and on your emergency calls, they contacted your boyfriend. As soon as he came, being as quick as possible and dread consuming him, he knew. He knew because he saw the picture on the floor, grabbing it in his hand and staring at it in the void. Your vanishment wasn’t something what normal humans would think, and maybe he didn’t like that idea as much, knowing it could be worse, way worse than you just running away. 
Following the cursed energy, he arrived in an abandoned building. Bit by bit, like a rat following the smell of cheese, he went to each place and corner where he could slightly feel your presence. Satoru knew it was a trap, but your safety was his top tier priority.
Minutes passed, and everytime he faced an opponent that didn’t give him any proper answer, annoyance took over him. It was maddening, frustrating. Satoru was going crazy at the idea that you could be dead right now, somewhere lifeless, and how it probably was his fault. His eyes were cold, as freezing as ice, having no more patience left anymore.
“Who’s next ?” he asks, each step echoing in the corridor, searching for you, but too for someone else to rip their damn head off if they go on his way. 
He senses the presence of another sorcerer, but they run fast, fearful, not wanting to live their last seconds on earth being exterminated by The Strongest in a monstrous way like their other comrades.
“Pathetic,” he whispers, about to go after his new found victim, an unhinged smile forming on his lips, but he stops dead on his track when he senses your presence faintly.
With no other thoughts, he teleports there immediately. He appears suddenly in front of a door, and bangs it open brutally, breathing heavily. Time stops the moment his eyes meet the purple ones of his best friend, his nemesis, his one and only. And then his smile drops, when he sees you unconsciously laid in his arms while he sits lazily on a tatami.
 12 : 31 AM, Gojo Satoru found you back. But not alone.
“Satoru ! Long time no see,” exclaims Suguru, smiling at him like he used to in the past.
“Suguru…” whispers the white haired male, standing almost lifeless, body feeling limp.
“You were quicker than I thought. Even if I know you’ve been knowing for weeks now. I’ve enjoyed the chase, right, Satoru ? Yet, we still didn’t reach the end, you and I. And you know that very well,” he hums, his hand softly touching your unconscious face before looking back up at your boyfriend. 
“Suguru, don’t involve her into that,” he simply says, voice firm as he wipes some of the blood off his face.
“I never thought you would date a weakling, you, that always said they were a pain to protect. Look where it brought you. It’s a weakness that I can use against you, and I’m doing it,” he states, narrowing his eyes while he taps his fingers against his thigh. Tap, tap, tap.
“I changed, you made me change. You were the first one to say we had to protect the weaker for the best,” answers Satoru, stepping closer and being tense, ready to attack at any second. The dim light from the candles next to the black haired man illuminates your unconscious face. At least you didn’t look hurt, just asleep, as if everything that happened was just a dream, or a living nightmare.
“Well, I changed my mind. I learnt my lesson, and you know that it’s too late to make me think otherwise,” sighs Suguru, replying with a colder tone. Some seconds pass in silence where they just look at each other in a heavy silence.
“... Suguru. Let her go, she has nothing to do with our little game of cat and mouse,” continues Satoru, more calmly, almost pleading.
“Don’t tell me you are that attached ? If I hurt her, kill her, would you finally kill me ?” scoffs Geto.
“Yes.” That was the simple answer of The Strongest, raising his hand and positioning his fingers, ready to activate red or blue any moment now.
“At least we think the same,” ends up answering Suguru vaguely in a quiet voice, looking at the fingers of his once best friend. A moment passes. Then, he puts you down on the floor, and stands up slowly, now facing the white haired male. 
“Poor thing. There is no curse more twisted than love… Next time, curse me too a little bit in the end,” adds Suguru, letting out a mocking laugh, staring into the soul of Satoru through his eyes. 
Satoru doesn’t answer, not knowing what to answer. He keeps his fingers up, shaking, and then he grabs you with his free hand, using his technique to make you not fall and glued to his palm. He tried to control his breathing, feeling in between numb and overwhelmed. Both in a strange duality.
“You killed an awful amount of my curses and mercenaries. Well, at least I can keep the money of the bounty for myself, since they can’t reclaim it anymore,” he starts to say, raising his eyebrow and then invoking a curse next to him. Satoru’s eyes snap towards it, ready in case it attacks.
“But don’t rest easy, I’ll make you pay back in kind. I like that new student of yours, Yuta Okkotsu…” the black haired male continues, and then a void slowly appears under his feet, created by the curse.
“Leave the kids alone, Suguru,” snaps Satoru, frowning, and stepping menacingly closer. But he had to be careful, having you with him meant he had to be extra cautious.
“Then kill me now.” These single words made the heart of The Strongest sink, and his fingers tighten. He grits his teeth, feeling like he was 18 again, surrounded by a crowd and unable to stop his best friend after finding out he deflected and massacred a whole village.
Satoru couldn’t kill Suguru, not yet.
“Right. Next time, maybe. Goodbye, Satoru. Say hi to y/n too,” finishes his best friend, before vanishing in the void created by the curses. It disappears too, leaving only the two of you alone. The candles slightly waver at this change of atmosphere, and Satoru breathed again. He brings you up in his arms, scooping your asleep self against his chest. He cradles you, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent.
“Y/n, I’m sorry. So sorry…”
Gojo Satoru feels a tear rolling down his cheeks, and it’s the first time in a long time that he breaks character and his fake bravado.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
“Satoru, I swear I’m good now. Shoko already checked me up. Well, maybe I would need some therapy, but trust me, I’m not hurt,” you try to reassure your boyfriend, as he sits next to you on the bed, making sure you were okay. His hand slowly caresses your cheek, and you lean on his palm, appreciating his touch.
He had dark circles under his eyes. Satoru didn’t sleep for 56 hours. After what happened, he didn’t close his eyes aside from blinking, making sure you were okay, paranoid and on edge that something else could happen to you. He sighs, staring at your face and rubbing his thumb against your cheek.
“Y/n, it’s for your safety… You know I can’t rest,” he insists, shaking his head and gripping slightly your cheek.
“Satoru, love, you need to sleep. I’m with you, nothing will happen,” you reply, sliding your fingers against his, and interwinning them together, kissing his knuckles. 
He looks at you in silence in the quietness of the night.
“I can’t sleep, not after what happened,” he continues, passing his free hand against his face, trying to wipe the tiredness away. 
“You need to,” you answer, frowning, clearly concerned. He doesn't answer, looking at the window instead. He looked so drained, almost like the living dead that crawled back from the cemetery. You felt like that if you blew on him, he could break. The Strongest would damn break. 
“Satoru, you’re going to drop dead if you continue doing this. You can’t keep up, please, for the love of God, listen to me,” you add, tugging on his hand to make him look at you, a hint of despair in your voice.
“Y/n, it was all my fault, I-” he shakes his head, biting his lower lip.
“Stop saying that !” you snap.
“You don’t get it ! If I didn’t protect my own peace, If I decided to open up more to you in the past and told you about Suguru, and everything that happened, maybe nothing of this would have happened. This is all because of my own fear of vulnerability, of thinking it was better like that, to keep you safe, and keep myself safe from remembering the past. I don’t know anymore. I messed up badly, and I’m not allowed to mess up. I don’t know. I’m so tired from all this. Fuck, I… I can’t even think straight right now,” he exclaims at first, but ends up laughing nervously. He surely was becoming more and more crazy as the hours passed.
Your heart sinks, and you look at him sadly.
“Shhh… come here, come here,” you whisper, and bring him towards you. You wrap your arms around his body and he immediately hugs you back close, squeezing you strongly as if his life depended on it. He shakes, big hands covering your back and keeping you in the crook of his heart. He kisses your lips softly, like an anchor to reality.
“It’s alright. Maybe, if you start to tell me about it, it’ll help you sleep better at night ?” you propose after some seconds. He looks at you in the eyes, not answering at first, debating inside his head.
“Alright…” he ends up saying. He sighs deeply, and then takes a long breath to gather the strength he needed to talk about this, to open up his heart, to expose his vulnerable past and mistakes.
“Suguru and I, back in the days, we both were The Strongest. Nothing could stop us, really. He was my best friend, my one and only, actually. But everything went downhill when we got assigned the star plasma vessel mission…”
Satoru starts to explain, laying back down on the bed against you. While he talks, you look at him and gently caress his back to sooth him down. As the minutes passed, his eyes started to close against his will, and he found himself fast asleep in your arms.
You kiss one last time his head, bringing him closer to share all your warmth, and love.
For once, you’ll be the one to look over him tonight.
You were his to protect. But he was yours to protect too. 
And that, no matter what would happen in the future. 
THE END
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