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pucksandpower · 13 days ago

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Rumour Has It

Franco Colapinto x Princess of Norway!Reader

Summary: you’ve never heard of Franco before and Franco has certainly never heard of you … but when gossip magazines decide to set you two up, Franco realizes that he wouldn’t mind making the rumors a reality

“Have you seen this?” Noora says, bursting into your study with a tablet clutched to her chest, her eyes wide and frantic.

You look up, half-expecting the sky to have fallen or for Oslo to be under siege. “Seen what?”

Noora slams the tablet down on your desk, and your face is met with a tabloid headline in bold, obnoxious letters: Norway’s Princess Caught in Secret Romance with Argentinian Racing Prodigy Franco Colapinto!

You blink at the screen, then back at Noora, and then at the screen again, as if maybe the headline might rearrange itself into something more sensible. “Sorry, who?”

“Franco Colapinto!” She says, exasperated. “The Argentine driver — the rookie! In Formula 1!”

You tilt your head. “I don’t know who that is.”

Noora gives you a look that’s somewhere between sympathy and horror. “Okay, well, apparently you’re dating him. And half of Norway seems to think so too, thanks to this article.”

“Dating? Noora, I’ve never even heard of him, let alone met him! And this … this is nonsense!” You shove the tablet back at her, feeling your cheeks flush. “How did this even happen?”

Noora sighs, sliding the tablet away. “It’s the internet. They don’t need facts to build a story — they just need a blurry photo and a wild imagination.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling sharply. “And why didn’t anyone tell me sooner? It’s not like we don’t have a whole team for this.”

“Well, to be fair, it only surfaced last night,” she says, crossing her arms. “But now it’s all over social media, and your name is attached to his. People are actually talking about you two as if you’re the new royal couple.”

Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. You’ve spent years cultivating a careful, respectable image — a modern princess who’s still traditional enough to respect the expectations placed on her. And now, you’re supposedly dating a race car driver?

“What exactly are they saying?” You ask, your voice quieter, laced with dread.

Noora hesitates, but you give her a pointed look until she relents. “They’re saying you met him at some secret event in Monaco and that you’ve been hiding your relationship to avoid the media frenzy. Apparently, he’s been visiting Norway on his off-days just to see you.” She snorts. “It’s absurd, really. But people are eating it up.”

You stare at her, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “This cannot be happening.”

“Oh, but it is. And the comments …” She trails off, biting her lip.

“Out with it, Noora.”

She sighs. “Some are saying it’s refreshing that you’re dating someone so … I don’t know, normal. But others …” She winces. “Others think it’s irresponsible. That you’re … well, neglecting your duty for some glamorous fling.”

You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “Neglecting my duty,” you repeat, more to yourself than to her. “Because I’m apparently sneaking off with some Formula 1 driver I’ve never even met.”

“I know,” she says, reaching out and giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “But it’ll pass. A few days, maybe a week, and they’ll have moved on to the next scandal.”

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to imagine it blowing over. “And what if it doesn’t?”

“Then we get PR involved. Make a statement, deny everything.” She pauses, eyeing you with a wary smile. “Or, you know, we could just arrange a very public appearance with you and someone else. Nothing quashes rumors like a little royal romance with a suitable partner.”

Your eyes snap open. “Noora.”

She grins, unphased by your glare. “What? It’s an option.”

“I’m not going to parade around with someone just to make the tabloids happy,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Well, that leaves us with the boring option: addressing it head-on, squashing the rumor, and hoping it dies quickly.”

“That will just make it worse,” you sigh resignedly. “The press will think any denial means we have something to hide.”

Noora nods, still eyeing you cautiously. “You could always lean into it a little — make it sound mysterious.”

“Mysterious?” You echo. “No, Noora. I want it gone. I don’t even know this man!”

“All right, all right,” she concedes, hands raised in surrender. “But you know, you could at least look him up.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“Because people are going to be asking questions. You’re the Princess of Norway. If they think you’re dating him, it would help to know who he is.”

You open your mouth to argue, but she’s already pulling out her phone. “Just … humor me, okay? It’ll take two seconds.”

She taps her screen, and suddenly a series of photos pops up — images of a young man with dark hair and a serious expression, usually in some variation of a racing suit, often holding a helmet. He’s smiling in one photo, a faint smirk in another, but the confident gleam in his eyes is unmistakable.

“He’s twenty-one,” Noora says, scrolling through some text. “Started karting young, worked his way up. Got his big break with Formula 1 this year.”

You try not to look interested, but it’s hard to ignore the pictures flashing by. He has a kind of easy charisma, that much is obvious.

“And look,” she adds, holding up a picture of him on the track, eyes focused, mouth set in a determined line. “He’s pretty talented, apparently.”

You shake your head, forcing yourself to look away. “None of this matters. Because I don’t know him, and I’m certainly not dating him.”

Noora smirks. “Doesn’t matter. The media thinks you are, and as far as they’re concerned, that makes it practically true.”

You groan, sinking back in your chair. “So what do I do?”

“For now? Sit tight, let PR work their magic. But you might want to brush up on your Formula 1 knowledge, just in case anyone asks.” She grins, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Wouldn’t want you to sound unprepared.”

You roll your eyes, reaching for the tablet and skimming the article’s ridiculous details. “He brought me roses on the first date?” You mutter, incredulous. “We had a secret dinner at a villa on the Côte d’Azur? Do they just make this up?”

“Pretty much. And it’s only going to get worse if people keep sharing it.”

You rub your temples, trying to banish the lingering image of Franco’s cocky smile from your mind. “Fantastic. Just what I needed — a fake romance with a twenty-one-year-old race car driver.”

Noora pats your shoulder sympathetically. “Could be worse.”

“How, exactly?”

“It could be real.”

***

Franco is hunched over his phone, scrolling mindlessly through his notifications as he waits for his PR briefing to start. The Williams headquarters is bustling this morning, and he barely notices when the door opens until Abbie, his PR officer, strides in, her expression uncharacteristically serious.

“Franco, we need to talk,” she says, folding her arms.

He glances up, one eyebrow raised. “Am I in trouble already? That’s got to be a record.”

Abbie sighs. “No, you’re not in trouble. But you’re in … let’s call it a situation.” She pulls up a chair across from him, lowering her voice as if sharing state secrets. “Have you seen the news?”

“Can’t say I have,” he replies, half-interested. “What, did Carlos suddenly decide to retire and I get to keep my seat for next season?”

Abbie doesn’t laugh, which is a bit worrying. Instead, she hands him her phone, showing a screen filled with a tabloid headline. Princess Y/N of Norway in Secret Romance with F1’s Newest Rising Star, Franco Colapinto!

His brows furrow as he reads, slowly, taking in the headline, the photos, the fabricated “romantic details.”

“Wait … I’m dating a princess?” He says, breaking into a grin. “And nobody thought to tell me?”

Abbie sighs. “Apparently. They’ve got edited photos, fake details — everything.”

He leans back, intrigued. “Princess Y/N,” he muses, tapping his chin with a thoughtful smirk. “Of Norway?”

“Yes, of Norway.” She leans in closer, her expression serious. “This has gone viral, Franco. Everyone’s talking about it.”

He can’t resist; he grabs his own phone and taps out “Princess Y/N of Norway.” The first few links are about her background, her position in the line of succession. “So, she’s next in line to be queen or something?”

“Second in line,” Abbie corrects. “After her father. She’s a pretty big deal over there.”

Franco’s eyes sparkle with interest. “Second in line. And she’s what … like, forty?”

“Not even close,” Abbie says, exasperated. “She’s around your age, I think. She’s twenty-something.”

Franco looks at her, skeptical. “Twenty-something? And a princess?” He scrolls through images of palaces, state functions, and some photos of you smiling politely at dignitaries. She’s dressed elegantly, impeccably, not a hair out of place.

Then, finally, he finds one candid shot, and he stops scrolling. You’re laughing in the photo, a little windswept, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, your smile bright and entirely un-royal. He smirks.

“All right, all right,” he mutters to himself, still looking at the photo. “She’s pretty cute.” He taps back to the headline with a glint of amusement in his eye. “But still not a MILF.”

Abbie groans. “You’re impossible.”

He shrugs, still looking delighted. “Come on. You know my type. I like them older. But …” He trails off, grinning wider. “I could certainly do worse.”

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Abbie says, horrified. “Franco, this is a fake rumor. You’re supposed to be distancing yourself from it.”

“Oh, I know. I know.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “But it’s kind of funny, isn’t it? Me, a royal boyfriend?” He leans back, arms crossed, still smirking. “I’m almost flattered.”

Abbie sighs and taps her own phone, clearly typing something in response to the rest of the Williams PR team. “Look, flattered or not, you need to be careful. She’s a public figure. If you say the wrong thing, it’ll just fuel the fire.”

“Oh, please,” he says, waving a hand. “What are they gonna do? Put me on trial?”

“Maybe not you,” Abbie replies, giving him a warning look, “but she has an image to protect. This isn’t just gossip for her — it’s her whole life.”

He lets out a low whistle, thinking. “Must be hard, huh? Everyone expecting you to act a certain way. Not much room for fun.”

Abbie eyes him, her expression softening a bit. “I’m sure it is. Which is why we need to treat this carefully.”

Franco glances back at the photos, his smile fading a bit as he considers. He may not know you, but he can picture the situation well enough: the relentless tabloids, the public judgment, all the expectations.

“All right, fine,” he says, finally. “What’s the plan?”

She breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll be working with her team to prepare a statement. The usual ‘there’s no truth to these rumors’ line. But until then, keep it low-key.”

He raises a brow. “Low-key? Since when have I ever been low-key?”

“Then try for once.” She gives him a pleading look. “It’ll help her out. Trust me.”

Franco nods, though there’s a spark of amusement still flickering in his eyes. He can’t help it — he’s never been one to turn down a little excitement, and this whole thing is exactly that. He glances at Abbie. “So … if someone were to ask about it …”

She narrows her eyes. “Franco. Don’t even think about it.”

He chuckles. “Relax. I’ll be good.”

But as he heads back to the simulator, he can’t resist a smirk.

***

The meeting room is far more understated than you would’ve expected for something of this scale, tucked away in a discreet corner of a private suite in a London hotel. But it’s neutral ground, and it’s quiet, and no one outside this room will ever have to know about this awkward collision of worlds.

You’re early, of course. You’ve been pacing for the last ten minutes, scrolling through every frantic email your team has sent since this ridiculous rumor broke, trying to make sense of the tabloids’ spiraling narrative.

Franco arrives with a small entourage, though it feels like the entire room shifts the moment he steps in. He looks relaxed, perfectly at ease — too at ease. He catches your eye almost immediately, smirking as if he’s been waiting his whole life for this absurd situation to unfold.

“Princess,” he says, as if the word is a private joke just for the two of you. He holds out his hand, that ever-present glint of mischief in his eyes.

You don’t take it, instead clearing your throat and nodding a polite, “Mr. Colapinto.”

He drops his hand, unfazed. “Mr. Colapinto? Ouch. I thought we were past formalities, what with the whole secret romance thing.”

You stare, unamused, but he only laughs, taking a seat at the conference table across from you. He leans back, stretching his arms over the back of his chair, entirely too comfortable.

Abbie enters behind him, followed by Noora and two more of your advisors, who exchange a brief look with you before giving Franco a wary glance. The room feels divided: your side tense, professional; his side relaxed, as if they’re here for afternoon tea.

Noora clears her throat. “Thank you all for coming. We’re here to discuss … the situation between Her Royal Highness and Mr. Colapinto.”

Franco raises his hand like a schoolboy. “Just Franco’s fine.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I think it’s important that we treat this with the gravity it deserves.”

“Right,” Franco says, his tone playful. “Like a royal summit.”

Ignoring him, you turn to Noora. “What’s our best option? A joint statement? Something definitive?”

Noora nods, producing a folder from her bag. “Yes, we think a mutual statement from both parties would be the most effective way to dispel the rumors. The tone should be clear, respectful, and leave no room for interpretation.”

Franco grins at you. “So, no room for romance?”

You bite back a sigh. “Exactly.”

He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as if studying you. “Pity. I thought we made a pretty good pair.”

You shift in your seat, folding your hands tightly in front of you. “This isn’t a joke. It’s an issue of public perception, protocol-”

“Protocol,” he repeats, as if tasting the word. “Can’t say I’m big on protocol. Haven’t you heard? I’m dating a princess now. Practically makes me royalty, right? Protocol doesn’t apply to me.”

You shoot him a pointed look. “Protocol applies to everyone.”

“Boring people,” he counters, grinning wider. “Which, by the way, you are not. I don’t buy it.”

You feel your cheeks flush. “I don’t think you understand the stakes here.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly. But, come on …” He gestures to the small group of advisors around the table. “Look at this! Two teams acting like we’re two PR disasters waiting to happen … it’s ridiculous. You would think we were in the middle of an international scandal.”

“We are in the middle of an international scandal,” you say, exasperated. “People think we’re dating. It’s a breach of public trust for both of us-”

He snorts. “You’re talking like I’m some kind of international criminal. Come on, Princess. It’s just a rumor.”

“It’s more than that,” you insist, struggling to keep your voice steady. “This rumor reflects on me, on my family. On Norway.”

He watches you, head tilted, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “And do you care?”

You frown, feeling that flush creep back to your cheeks. “Of course I care.”

“No, I mean, do you care about it — us? I mean, the rumor?”

There’s something disarming in the way he says it, like he’s testing you. You can’t help but hesitate, your well-rehearsed words slipping just out of reach.

“It’s my duty,” you finally say, straightening your shoulders, “to uphold my family’s reputation.”

He doesn’t seem impressed. Instead, he shakes his head, a bemused smile on his lips. “You’re so serious. Makes me think I really did pick the right princess.”

Noora coughs, clearly eager to refocus the meeting. “Let’s discuss the actual statement, shall we?”

You nod, relieved to move on, but Franco holds up a hand, eyes still locked on yours. “I just want to say, for the record … I don’t think I’d mind the rumors, if they were true.”

There’s a moment of silence, thick and uncomfortable. You can feel the curious stares of your team, the surprise on Noora’s face, the quiet snickers from Franco’s side.

“Mr. Colapinto,” you say carefully, “this is neither the time nor place for that kind of … remark.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Who decides that?”

Noora jumps in. “We do. And as such, we have a preliminary draft we’d like to review with both of you. It’s brief and to the point, which is important.”

Abbie leans in, already reading over the statement. “The recent reports of a romantic relationship between Princess Y/N and Franco Colapinto are entirely false and without merit. Both parties are focused on their respective roles and responsibilities and have not been involved in any way that would support these rumors.” She looks up, pleased with herself.

You give an approving nod, glancing at Franco. “Short and factual. Perfect.”

Franco frowns, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a little … cold, don’t you think?”

“That’s the point,” you say flatly. “We’re supposed to be shutting down the rumors, not fueling them.”

He lifts an eyebrow, eyes gleaming. “How about something more like … while I have great respect for Princess Y/N and have enjoyed our time together, I can confirm that we are, unfortunately, just friends?”

You look at him, horrified. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on.” He gives you a devilish grin. “It’s all about the narrative, Princess. People want romance, intrigue. You’re literal royalty — give them a little fairytale.”

You feel your cheeks burn, and it takes everything you have not to snap back at him. “This isn’t some soap opera, Mr. Colapinto.”

“Franco,” he corrects, eyes still dancing with mischief.

Noora clears her throat again. “I think it’s best we stick with the original statement.”

He gives you a mockingly solemn nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

You give a small, exasperated sigh, looking back to Noora and Abbie. “If we’re all agreed, can we proceed?”

Abbie glances between you and Franco, as if gauging the tension in the air. “Yes. We’ll finalize the statement this evening and have it released tomorrow morning.”

Franco pushes back his chair, rising to his feet. “Well, I suppose that settles it, then.” He glances down at you, his gaze lingering a bit too long. “Shame, though. This could’ve been fun.”

You fold your arms, giving him a pointed look. “We have very different definitions of fun.”

“Clearly,” he says, his smirk deepening. “But tell me, don’t you ever get tired of all this?” He gestures around at the meeting room, the stacks of paperwork, the solemn faces of your advisors. “The rules, the protocol. Doesn’t it get … dull?”

You purse your lips, resisting the temptation to give him a real answer. “It’s my duty.”

He tilts his head, his expression softening just slightly. “I get duty. But where’s the fun?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. And for a second, just a second, you wonder if he has a point.

Franco’s gaze sharpens as he watches you struggle to respond. And then, to your utter shock, he steps closer, his hand reaching for yours. “Here,” he says, with that sly, teasing smile.

Before you can pull away, he lifts your hand, bringing it to his lips in a slow, deliberate gesture. His eyes hold yours as he brushes his mouth over your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make you feel the heat creeping up your face.

“I promise,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, “the next time I kiss you, Princess, it’ll be somewhere much more pleasurable.”

You pull your hand back, heart pounding, but he only grins, unbothered, and gives you a playful wink.

“Until next time, Your Highness.”

***

The bar is dimly lit, tucked away on a quiet street where no one knows who you are and, more importantly, no one cares. It’s the perfect place to slip away from the weight of your title, from the headlines, from the rules and the statement that your team is probably drafting up at this very moment. For once, you just want to sit here, nursing a drink, and pretend you’re anyone else.

The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it’s a welcome distraction. You let out a breath, easing back against the bar, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders release. For the first time all day, no one is watching, no one is whispering. You’re just … here.

Until a voice slides into the quiet like a warm breeze. “Didn’t think I’d find royalty in a place like this.”

You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. You don’t turn, but your grip on the glass tightens as Franco slides onto the stool beside you, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, not bothering to mask the exasperation in your voice.

“Me?” He says, all innocence. “Just having a drink. Same as you.” He signals the bartender. “Tequila,” he says, then nods at your glass, smirking. “And whatever she’s having.”

You sigh. “Of all the bars in London, you had to pick this one?”

He grins, shameless. “Maybe I just have good taste.”

You roll your eyes. “Highly doubtful.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “Come on, Princess. I know you’re thrilled to see me.”

“Thrilled isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

He leans in, his voice dropping low enough that it feels like a secret. “What would you use, then?”

You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you consider. “Mildly inconvenienced.”

He laughs at that, a warm, genuine sound that catches you off guard. You try to keep your face impassive, but there’s something disarming about his laughter, something that makes you wonder why it feels like he’s always able to unravel you with so little effort.

“Fine,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar, mirroring your posture. “Then I’ll just sit here, mildly inconveniencing you until you admit you’re enjoying yourself.”

You scoff. “That’s not going to happen.”

His whiskey arrives, and he raises his glass, clinking it lightly against yours. “Care to bet on that?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you always think everything’s a game?”

“Only when it’s fun,” he says, his gaze dropping to your lips. There’s something undeniably bold about the way he watches you, something that sends a little thrill down your spine despite yourself.

You hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”

“I thought that was obvious,” he says, his voice turning softer, more intimate. “I’m trying to get to know you.”

You snort. “Get to know me? I’m pretty sure you just want to use this as an excuse to fuel the rumors.”

“Maybe the rumors are more interesting than you think,” he counters smoothly, sipping his drink. “Or maybe I’m just curious.”

“Curious?” You echo, lifting an eyebrow. “About what?”

“About what a princess does when no one’s watching.” His eyes flash with that familiar glint, and he gives you a lazy, unapologetic smile. “And so far, you don’t disappoint.”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “If you’re trying to charm me, it’s not working.”

“Oh, I don’t need to try,” he says, his voice soft but self-assured. “I just do.”

You shake your head, determined not to let him win this little game. “I don’t think you’re as irresistible as you think you are.”

“Maybe.” He tilts his head, studying you with an infuriating level of focus. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”

Your retort dies on your lips as his hand moves closer, resting just on the edge of the bar, fingers inching toward yours. It’s subtle, but it sends a pulse of awareness up your arm, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is, the warmth radiating from him, the intensity of his gaze as it lingers on you.

You straighten, clearing your throat. “So what’s your endgame here, Franco?”

“No endgame,” he says easily, but there’s a promise in his tone, a flicker in his eyes that makes it hard to believe. “Just wanted a drink with a pretty princess.”

You almost laugh. Almost. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Is that why you’re smiling?” He asks, leaning closer.

You hadn’t realized you were. You quickly straighten your face, but he’s already noticed, that knowing smirk widening as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Relax, Princess. You’re allowed to have fun, too.”

“Define fun,” you say, though you’re painfully aware that you’re actually enjoying this little back-and-forth. It’s dangerous, exhilarating — two things you never let yourself indulge in.

“Fun?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling. “Fun is you, sitting here, pretending you don’t like me, while secretly hoping I’ll keep talking.”

You roll your eyes. “Delusional.”

“Maybe,” he says, and his hand moves again — this time, resting casually on your thigh under the bar. The touch is light, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make you momentarily forget the carefully constructed boundaries you’ve set.

“Franco,” you warn, though your voice is less steady than you’d like.

He raises an eyebrow, his fingers tracing a slow, almost absentminded circle against your leg. “Problem?”

You don’t answer, but he takes your silence as permission, his fingers edging just a little higher, teasingly close, as if he’s daring you to stop him. And you should. You know you should. But for some reason, you don’t.

He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me to stop, Princess. And I will.”

Your mind races, every sensible thought colliding with the thrill that’s building inside you. You swallow, feeling the weight of his gaze, the heat of his touch.

“Why would I tell you to stop,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper, “if I don’t want you to?”

He grins, satisfied. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Before you can respond, he’s closing the distance, his hand slipping higher under your dress, his thumb brushing slow circles that make your heart race. It’s reckless and wild and nothing you’d ever thought you’d do — but in this moment, it feels impossible to resist.

The next few minutes are a blur of whispered words and stolen glances, your resolve slipping with every soft touch, every cocky grin he throws your way. You barely register the decision to leave the bar until you’re outside, standing on the quiet street, the night air cool against your flushed skin.

“Your place or mine?” He asks, his voice a playful drawl.

You hesitate, a thousand reasons to walk away tumbling through your mind. But when you look at him — at that unrelenting confidence, the challenge in his eyes — you feel your control waver. Just this once, you tell yourself. Just this once, you’ll let yourself break the rules.

“Yours,” you say, surprised at the steadiness of your voice.

He doesn’t waste a second, taking your hand and leading you down the street, his grip warm and solid, grounding you even as your heart races. You follow him, pulse pounding with each step, until you’re standing outside his hotel room door, the reality of what you’re doing hitting you in a rush.

But then he’s looking at you again, that mischievous smile softening into something more intimate, and your doubts fade. He opens the door, and you step inside, feeling as though you’re crossing some invisible line.

The room is dim, the city lights casting a faint glow through the windows. He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost reverent, and for a moment, you see a different side of him — something softer, deeper.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, his voice low.

You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. But instead of answering, you lean up, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that’s tentative at first, then deepening as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

And for the first time in as long as you can remember, you don’t think about duty, or protocol, or anything else. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the quiet thrill of finally letting go.

***

francolapinto

Liked by f1wagupdates, royalwatchers, and 714,925 others

francolapinto all the rumours are true

View all 3,816 comments

pintobean everyone called me crazy for believing the articles but look who’s laughing now!

coca-colapinto because as much as i love franco, there’s no way i was about to believe he could’ve pulled a whole ass princess

pintobean this is a lesson not to underestimate his rizz

coca-colapinto please never say that unironically again

f1wagupdates pray for their PR teams, whatever they’re earning is not nearly enough 🙏

gridgossip franco had exactly nine races to turn the paddock upside down and boy did he not disappoint

f1wagupdates who needs an f1 seat in 2025 when you can have a throne?

***

The morning arrives far too soon, sunlight streaming through the hotel curtains and casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. You barely have time to blink yourself awake when a loud, frantic banging rattles the door, shaking you out of the haze of last night.

Franco groans beside you, his arm lazily draped over your waist. “You expecting someone?”

You’re too comfortable, too wrapped up in the warmth of his skin and the lingering bliss to even think straight. “Not … exactly.”

The pounding persists, and then voices — urgent, unmistakable voices — filter through the door. “Franco! Y/N! Are you in there? It’s urgent!”

Your eyes widen, a flash of panic cutting through the sleepiness. Franco doesn’t seem fazed. He barely lifts his head off the pillow, his hand lazily running down your spine as he mutters, “They’ll go away.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” You push yourself up slightly, glancing over the bed, finding discarded clothes and a vague sense of regret somewhere on the floor. The pounding grows louder, and finally, Franco sits up, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably disheveled.

He stretches, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “What do you think? Just a few more minutes or …”

“Open the door!” Comes a familiar, exasperated voice from the hallway. You recognize it immediately — Noora.

Franco’s eyes meet yours, amusement glinting there. “Looks like we don’t have a choice.”

Reluctantly, he pulls himself out of bed, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and slipping them on with a casual ease that only makes your heartbeat quicken. He tosses you a smirk over his shoulder before heading to the door.

As he opens it, a whirlwind of people floods into the room — Noora, Abbie, and a few more members of both your PR teams, all of them looking like they’re seconds away from losing their minds.

“Oh my god,” Noora gasps, her gaze darting between you and Franco, her face turning several shades of pink. “This … this is-”

“Completely reckless!” Abbie finishes, giving you a look that’s half shock, half scandalized admiration. “What were you two thinking?”

Franco crosses his arms, unfazed. “Good morning to you too.”

One of Williams’ other PR officers steps forward, looking ready to faint. “Franco, do you have any idea what you’ve done? Those photos … your Instagram …”

Franco grins, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What, people are talking?”

“Talking?” Noora squeaks, her voice an octave higher than usual. She glares at you, her eyes wide, almost pleading. “This is a disaster! Do you understand what you’ve done to our schedule, our statement plan? And the … the-” Her gaze flickers to the faint marks on your neck, and her knees buckle. Abbie reaches out quickly, guiding her to a chair.

“Maybe we overreacted,” Abbie mutters, though she doesn’t take her eyes off you. “Or maybe we didn’t react enough.”

You feel a rush of heat flood your face as everyone’s gaze lands on you. Franco catches it and gives you a cheeky wink, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s created.

“Look,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “maybe we got a little carried away, but it’s … it’s not like we did anything wrong.”

“Nothing wrong?” Noora says, her voice faint as she studies the marks on your neck again. “You … you have no idea how this looks, do you?”

Franco, completely unfazed, strolls over to the mirror above the dresser. He takes a long look at his own reflection, tilting his head to admire the scratches and darkening bruises scattered across his skin. “Looks like a good night to me.”

Your PR teams collectively groan, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Franco catches your eye in the mirror, and the mischievous spark there makes it impossible not to crack a smile.

“Franco, this isn’t a joke!” One of his managers snaps, practically pulling at his hair. “Do you know how many calls we’ve received since you posted those photos?”

Franco shrugs, giving them a lazy grin. “Then turn off your phone. Worked for me.”

Another round of exasperated sighs fills the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for your PR team. Not enough, though, to actually feel bad.

Noora steps forward, hands on her hips, looking at you with an expression that’s somehow both sympathetic and stern. “Your Highness, this is … unprecedented. We need to issue a statement immediately, clarify this situation-”

“Or not,” Franco interrupts, his tone far too nonchalant. He turns away from the mirror, crossing his arms. “Honestly, I think the people like a little mystery, don’t you?”

Noora gives him a look that could wilt flowers. “This isn’t about what the people like, Mr. Colapinto. It’s about protecting reputations.”

“Oh, so we’re doing that now?” Franco glances at you, his smile playful. “Funny, last night I didn’t get the sense that the two of us in this room were all that worried about reputations.”

Your face flushes, and you shoot him a look that’s half reprimand, half reluctant amusement. “You’re not helping.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Who said I was trying to help?”

Abbie lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temples. “Can we at least agree that this … whatever this is, stays here? Quietly?”

Franco raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a smirk. “You hear that, Princess? Quietly. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”

You swallow, trying to ignore the way his gaze makes your stomach flip. “Maybe some things should be quiet,” you say, though your voice sounds unconvincing even to you.

Noora, still looking a bit wobbly, clears her throat. “Please, can we just … make a plan?”

Franco sighs, feigning disappointment. “Fine. Make your plan. But don’t expect me to follow it.”

Before anyone can respond, he gives you one last smirk and strides over to the door, pulling it open. “In fact, I think it’s about time we had the room to ourselves, don’t you think?”

The PR teams exchange panicked glances, but they don’t have much choice as Franco gives them a not-so-subtle wave toward the exit. Noora opens her mouth to protest, but Abbie gently ushers her toward the door, casting one last look at you that’s a mix of concern and reluctant approval.

“We’ll be in touch,” Abbie says, but there’s a hint of resignation in her tone, as if she knows that whatever control they thought they had is slipping fast.

Once the last of them has been herded out, Franco shuts the door with a decisive click. He turns back to you, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and before you can process it, he’s crossing the room, closing the distance between you in seconds.

“You know,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “I think we gave them quite a show.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “We? That was mostly you.”

He laughs softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t exactly object.”

You’re about to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance. His hands find your waist, and suddenly you’re being guided backward, the mattress hitting the back of your legs as he eases you down. His gaze is intense, his smirk fading into something more serious, more intent.

“Franco,” you murmur, but the way he’s looking at you steals the rest of your words.

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to the corner of your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “We’re not done yet, Princess.”

Your heart races as he shifts, his hands warm against your skin, his weight pressing you back into the bed. And as he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s somehow both playful and possessive, you realize that whatever the consequences, whatever scandal might follow … right now, none of it matters.

Right now, there’s only him, the quiet thrill of his touch, and the feeling of finally — finally — giving in.

***

The night sky over Las Vegas glitters with a million lights, bright enough to drown out the stars, as the drivers’ parade winds down the track. The grandstands are packed, the excitement in the air palpable even before the race has started.

Franco is perched atop the back of a bus, arms folded, his easy smirk in place as he surveys the flashing cameras and cheering fans. Beside him stands Lewis Hamilton, calm and collected as always, with that practiced smile of someone who’s done this a thousand times.

Franco nudges Lewis with his elbow, grinning. “So, you know we’re both basically royalty now, right?”

Lewis chuckles, giving him a sideways look. “Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?”

Franco shrugs, looking as if he’s contemplating something serious for a split second, then tilts his head. “Well, you’ve got the knighthood, Sir Hamilton,” he says, drawing out the words with an exaggerated British accent. “And I’ve got, well …” He grins, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. “The princess.”

Lewis laughs, a rich, full sound. “Ah, I see. So you’re actually out here trying to one-up my knighthood?”

Franco clutches his chest dramatically. “Exactly. I mean, not to make it a competition, but I’m basically a prince now. Which, if we’re being technical, puts me a bit above you in rank.”

Lewis lets out a snort, rolling his eyes. “Shut up, man. I’m a knight, not a court jester.”

Franco raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. I’m sure knighthood’s very nice, but I think there’s something to be said for having a princess.”

Lewis shakes his head, trying not to laugh. “So it’s true, then?”

For the first time, Franco’s smirk softens into something else, something quieter. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen with an expression that’s unmistakably fond. He’s not looking at Lewis now, or at the cheering fans, or even the flashing cameras around them. His gaze is locked on his phone, where an image fills the screen.

It’s you, cozy on the couch with your Cavalier King Charles Spaniel in your lap, a warm blanket wrapped around you, hair falling casually over your shoulder. You’re looking straight into the camera, a relaxed smile on your face, and there’s an almost surprising intimacy in the photo — the kind that doesn’t come from a staged royal portrait but from a simple, real moment. It’s the type of photo someone only sends to someone they care about.

Franco doesn’t say anything right away. He just stares at the image, his thumb tracing lightly over the screen, as if he’s savoring the private moment before he has to lock his phone away for the race.

He nods, almost to himself. “Yeah. It’s true.”

Lewis studies him slowly, an almost invisible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t think I’d see the day,” he murmurs, a touch of amusement there. “Guess you’re growing up, huh?”

Franco finally looks up, chuckling. “Speak for yourself, man. I’m still a kid at heart.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow. “A kid at heart who’s dating a princess? That’s a combination I didn’t see coming.”

“Neither did I, to be honest.” Franco leans back, stretching his arms out along the edge of the bus, still clutching his phone in one hand. “One minute, I’m just minding my business, and the next … boom.” He snaps his fingers. “The entire world decides we’re dating. Didn’t even know her name before then.”

Lewis chuckles. “And now you’re on your phone looking at pictures she sent you. You’ve come a long way.”

Franco glances down at the picture again, a private smile playing on his lips. “Guess I have.”

The parade continues, the roar of the crowd swelling around them as they pass another section of the grandstand, but it all feels distant. The conversation falls into a comfortable silence, and Franco finds himself thinking back over the past few weeks, the whirlwind of rumors and statements, and then … the quiet moments that somehow followed.

Lewis studies him, eyes narrowing in that perceptive way he has. “So … you and her. Is it, like, official?”

Franco lets out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? This is Her Royal Highness we’re talking about. There’s no ‘official’ until we’ve been courting for at least a year. There’s procedure and … what’s the word she loves to use? Protocol.”

“Protocol.” Lewis grins. “That sounds … exactly like what you hate.”

“Oh, believe me.” Franco laughs, shaking his head. “She’s been trying to teach me, but I don’t think I’ve followed protocol a single time. I mean, she actually tried to tell me what utensils I should use at dinner. Like, why does it matter?”

“Didn’t go well, huh?”

“Let’s just say I’ve decided that those tiny forks are optional.” Franco sighs, pocketing his phone. “But that’s her. She takes it all so seriously. Makes me want to take it seriously too, in some strange way.”

Lewis tilts his head, watching him. “I get that. That’s what happens when someone really means something to you.” He pauses, as if weighing his words. “So, she’s watching tonight?”

Franco nods, a flash of pride evident in his smile. “She sent me this right before we went out for the parade.” He taps his pocket, where his phone is hidden now. “Said she’d be watching. Don’t know how she manages to get away with it, with her schedule planned out months in advance, but she’s … creative.”

Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “The lengths you two go to. Like some kind of fairytale romance.”

The bus they’re on takes another slow turn around the parade route, the lights of Las Vegas casting a surreal glow over the scene. The streets are packed with fans, all of them waving and shouting, and Franco finds himself wondering if you’re watching this right now. He imagines you, curled up on the couch with that fluffy little dog of yours, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Franco smiles. “Yeah, I guess it really is.”

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softevie · 29 days ago

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safe in your hands

pairing: hongjoong x female reader

warnings: smut under the cut so mdni, established relationship, morning sex, safe sex, fingering (f receiving), mutual masturbation, overstim, small dick size (orrrr below average I guess?) (I’m not sure how to tag this one since I’ve never seen anyone here write something like this)

a/n: reader lowkey struggles with vaginismus and yeah it’s a total projection. this is for everyone who has trouble putting anything inside themselves lol <3 also. can’t get out of my mind that gray long sleeve shirt he wears to sleep, you all probs know what I’m talking about

word count: 2.1k

The birds chirping outside is the first thing you register when you slowly drift out of a nice dream you were having and into reality. The second thing is how warm you are, face buried in your boyfriend’s chest, your legs tangled together with his. July sun is filtering through the curtains and warming your back, which is turned to the window. You stir a bit to get some movement in your stiff neck, then open your eyes, and see his soft face drowned in warm morning light. There he is. Peaceful. Perfect. Yours.

Your mind slowly catches up with reality, and you remember that it’s Saturday morning and neither of you have to be anywhere; there’s nowhere to rush. You allow yourself to bask in this moment. It’s rare in this hectic life to feel so peaceful, so you decide to appreciate the moment and commit it to your memory. You focus on the way your body slots perfectly against his. His arm lays over your torso; it relaxed through the night, but you remember his strong embrace from when you were both just falling asleep. His strong back under your palm, where you're gently running it over his soft gray sleep shirt.

He sighs softly and opens his eyes, slowly focusing on you. You witness his mind waking up and recognizing you. He smiles and whispers “Good morning”. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Morning, honey. Did you sleep well?”

He hums and moves closer, putting his face in your neck and inhaling your scent. Your legs are still tangled together, your thigh between his legs, basically pressing into his crotch, and his thigh between yours. When he hugs you closer, you both sigh at the soft stimulation you cause each other. You lower your hand to his waist and sneak it under his shirt. You can’t help yourself and grind slightly on his strong thigh. You run your hand over his skin, trying to gauge his reaction. Suddenly he moves his thigh, rubbing it against your core, making you gasp.

“You want me, love?” he mumbles into your neck, his warm breath making you shiver and feel goosebumps rise all over your skin.

“Mhmm…” you offer instead of a coherent reply. You can’t even put into words how much you want, need him.

You reach into his pajama bottoms and take him in your hand, your small fist easily covering two thirds of his length, although your thumb struggles to meet the tips of the other four fingers. Caressing him with your palm, you feel him harden under your soft touch. His hand sneaks under your t-shirt, ghosting over your waist before moving up and cupping your breast. His small but strong hands always feel so right on your body. You sigh contently and start pumping him slowly, not needing to move your hand a lot. The way he steadily grows firm in your hand makes your head spin with want. You want to whine, you want to scream with how much you need him close, even closer than now; it’ll never be close enough. He moves his leg and presses his thigh gently into your crotch, and your breath catches at the spark of pleasure.

The slow grind is nice, but really it’s everything about him that turns you on and makes your core clench. It’s the fact that you’re here with this man, and you get to have him like this. It’s the little gestures and caresses that express his feelings for you, his want for you; show that he desires you just as much as you do him.

He moves his hand lower, smoothing his fingers down your waist again. His knee lowers, making way for his hand to cover your crotch instead and rub you through your underwear, pressing his thumb into your clit. You let out a needy whine, to which he laughs softly against your neck. He knows perfectly well how to push your buttons. Alright, two can play this game. You decide to retaliate by playing with the head of his cock with your thumb, dipping it into the slit and rubbing it there. You revel in how much precome is oozing out of him, making your movements smoother. Just like you expected, you hear a low groan and feel soft breath on the skin of your neck.

He moves away suddenly, panting, cheeks pink. You whine again at the loss of his warmth and his hands on you, and try to pull him closer by his shirt, but he just shushes you and gives you a kiss to the forehead.

“Just one moment, love.”

He shortly turns to open the nightstand on his side of the bed and then turns back, dropping a small bottle of lube and a condom on the bedsheets. He helps you to take your underwear off, carefully sliding them down and off your legs, flinging them over his shoulder.

You bite your lip in anticipation as you watch him coat his fingers with clear liquid. He runs them through your folds, watching your face carefully when he starts to slowly press his pointer finger in. You’re fine taking it, but he still takes his time to pump it in and out, and make sure it meets no resistance. It’s only when he starts to press his middle finger in as well that you tense up a bit. He leans down and puts his mouth on your neck; it does little to distract you from the stretch, but his kisses still feel so nice. You swallow and cling to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself.

“It’s alright, angel, you’re doing so well for me.” His hot breath and tongue against your neck could just make you forget about every worry in the world.

He just keeps the two fingers inside of you and gently rubs your clit with his thumb, letting you get used to the intrusion. You try to steady your breathing and relax as much as possible; to focus on the feeling of his fingers inside you and his thumb bringing you sparks of pleasure. After a while, when the pressure is no longer as oppressive inside you, wiggle your hips a little to indicate you’re comfortable enough, and he scissors his fingers a bit just to make sure you’re ready for him. The fingers start to pump slowly in and out of you, the squelching sounds filling the bedroom. Hongjoong lifts his head to kiss your cheek and catch your gaze, searching for any signs of discomfort.

“How are you doing, baby?”

His touch, outside and inside, makes you shiver all over, and you barely have the presence of mind to reply to him.

“Good, I’m good. Just like this, please,” you breathe out. His fingers keep working you until you feel your thighs start to shake, and you grab his wrist hurriedly, trying to get the words out as fast as possible. “I’m ready, honey, please, I want you now.”

He removes his fingers, still leaving kisses on your face, and reaches for the condom. With heavy breaths, you watch as he takes his cock out of his pants and puts the condom on, before slicking it up with more lube. You look up and see him already staring back, a smirk forming on his lips. Without saying anything, he just looks at you while pumping his cock a few times, and God, if it isn’t the hottest sight in the world.

He makes you hike your leg up and over his waist, and now it’s a perfect position for him to line himself up with your entrance while you’re both on your sides. He takes himself in his hand and runs the head of his cock over your folds, rubbing it against your clit; not entering yet, just teasing. It’s such an intimate gesture, you even get a little flustered, despite the many filthy things you’ve done together.

He doesn’t push right in, just keeps the pressure light but insistent until your body opens up and is ready to take him. The blunt head of his cock pushes in easily enough. He lets you get used to it before slowly pushing further between your walls. You both sigh in satisfaction when he’s completely buried in you, your bodies sharing heat, your heartbeats and pulses synchronized.

He buries his face in your neck again, and you wonder if it’s his favorite place on the earth to be. You’re the one who starts moving first, grinding your hips against him and clenching around his hard cock inside you. The breathy moan he lets out is easily one of the best sounds you ever heard in your life. He sucks the skin on your neck, sure to leave a blooming mark, and digs his fingernails into your back, making you gasp. Slowly, he moves his hips back until only the tip of his cock is inside, then just as carefully slides back into your heat. When you both find a steady rhythm, he wraps his arm around you, bringing your bodies even closer if it were possible, and picks up the speed. Taught by experience you both keep the thrusts shallow lest he slips out of you.

The realization of how perfect he is for you almost makes you too emotional for the current situation. It’s just the right size to feel that pressure inside that makes arousal course through your body in waves which start in your lower belly and travel all throughout your abdomen, muscles clenching deliciously.

You still remember bracing yourself for rejection, when you decided to explain early on that it takes some extra effort for you to do this basic sex act, and the shy smile on his face when he told you that maybe you both will fit together just fine. The memory brings a gentle smile to your lips. You’re so grateful for him. And you know he can still get insecure, so you always make sure to remind him he’s perfect for you, whether inside you or in your hand, or when you take him in your mouth. With him, you feel… Safe. Just as he is safe with you.

He picks up the pace, his moans becoming whinier.

“Fuck, honey”, he pants in your ear, sounding helpless as if his hips are moving on their own accord. It’s amazing every time to see him lose control because of how good it feels to be inside you. He slows down and rolls on his back, and you end up lying on top of him. He circles his arms around your waist, plants his feet on the bed for leverage, and starts thrusting up in you. You can’t do much but pant in his neck and whine as he pushes in you again and again with abandon, like he might die if he stops fucking you.

“Baby,” he whines, “I’m so sorry, I…”

There’s no rhythm to his movements anymore, and you know his mind is completely lost in how good it feels — your inviting heat enveloping him on every thrust, soft muscles squeezing his cock so nicely.

You bring your hand to his hair to pet it gently.

“It’s okay, my sweet boy. Just take what you need.”

The lewd squelching and slapping sounds and his desperate moans are all that can be heard in your bedroom right now. With a final gasp, his hips still as his whole being is overcome with euphoria. Even through the barrier of the condom, you can feel him releasing warm cum into it, and honestly, it just turns you on even more.

Without catching his breath, he brings his right hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit in soft circles. He starts grinding up into you, while he hasn’t gone completely soft. Through the fog of approaching orgasm in your head, you barely hear him whining from overstimulation on his poor sensitive cock, but he’s still moving, completely focused on you. With your core muscles clenching involuntarily and your whole body feeling like there’s molten lava coursing through your veins, you know it won’t take long for your own release to arrive.

“Please, I’m so close,” you whine in his neck, nearly clawing at his shoulders. His thumb presses into your sensitive clit more insistently, but still keeping the movements slow. You can swear you feel pure electricity running through your legs as the orgasm finally shakes your body, and you hear Hongjoong let out a whiny gasp as his cock is trapped inside your heat.

When you regain control of your body, you move a bit higher, releasing his soft cock, but still resting your body on top of him, both of you catching your breath. He’s still hugging you close when he turns his face to peck your cheek.

“Breakfast?”

“Yes, please”, you say, smiling against his neck.

#kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong x y/n #ateez fanfic

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fireinmoonshot · 3 months ago

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the hard way | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Tyler Owens have a bad habit of butting heads, but all it takes is one hint of jealousy and things change in the blink of an eye. Warnings: Tyler is lowkey an asshole, but reader can be too, there is a creepy guy that tries to come onto reader and puts his hands on her. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched the original Twister movie today and got this idea while watching it and then it all just came out of my head onto the page and here we have it! I had so much fun writing this, it's honestly one of my favourite Tyler fics I've done so far. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the love on my Twisters fics so far!

“Oh, here we go again,” Boone says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you walking towards Tyler, your laptop in your hands. Judging by the look on your face, you have something fairly important to show Tyler – and Boone knows Tyler won’t be happy about it.

Dani sighs beside him, her legs kicked up on their cooler from their spot at the motel. It’s late at night and none of the storms had turned into anything today, leading to a very long day for all of you. You’d driven hundreds of miles only to end up with no new footage.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to get mad?” Dani asks.

“He’s just spotted her and he already looks annoyed, so I’d guess straight away.”

They watch on from a distance as you finally reach Tyler. You move to stand beside him so he can see the screen of your laptop. “I was right after all,” you glance up at him. “See this? That storm was never going to amount to anything and even the radar showed it dying out. We could have saved ourselves half a tank of gas and a few hours if you’d listened to me.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and looks away from your laptop, trying to focus on not burning the dinner he’s been cooking the team on the barbecue that the motel has. “Okay, I get it. But I can’t go back in time and listen to you, so will you just drop it? I’ve had to listen to this all day. You’re drivin’ me insane, sunshine’.”

“Well, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have kept bugging you about it, T.”

It’s never been smooth sailing between you and Tyler. You get along most of the time, sure – you have to when you’re working together. But you also tend to butt heads more often than not. With both of you having studied meteorology, you’re the only two members of the team with formal training, which means you often have differing opinions on your interpretations of the weather and the forecasts.

You disagree with Tyler, he disagrees with you and the rest of the Wranglers watch on, both amused and irritated at the fact that the two of you just can’t seem to work together sometimes. There are, of course, times when you can deal with it. But today… well, Boone had been glad to get out of the car at the end of the day and distance himself from the two of you.

He swears he’s not riding with you both tomorrow.

“If I listen to you now, will you stop bugging me still?” Tyler looks at you.

With a scowl, you slam your laptop shut and hold it under your arm. “If you listen to me tomorrow, then I might stop bugging you. I am not having another failed day chasing because of your inability to choose which storms to follow.”

Tyler sighs. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”

You huff and walk away, heading back over to the rest of the team. You grab a drink out of the cooler and sit down on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck, sitting your laptop beside you. The other members of the team watch you cautiously, like you’re a brewing storm that could become a tornado at any moment.

“Anyone wanna take my spot in the truck tomorrow? I’ll ride elsewhere,” you offer.

Boone stares at you for a moment. “You promise?”

You make a face at Boone and take a sip of your drink. “Yes, I promise,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to listen to all that today. God, he just drives me up the wall sometimes. I don’t know how he expects us to continue running this damn Youtube channel or get the research we need if we don’t get the right storms to chase.”

“Hey, no Tyler talk while you’re over here,” Dani pipes up. “This is a safe zone.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, lapsing into silence just as Dexter, Lily and Kate re-join the group, having headed upstairs to their rooms to refresh themselves before coming back down for dinner. You watch as Kate heads over to help Tyler out.

By the time the two of them bring dinner over to you, you’ve managed to cool off a fair amount and are now discussing the forecast for tomorrow with Dexter, who is leant up against the truck, looking at your laptop over your shoulder.

“Burgers are ready,” Kate announces as they place the tray of them on the small camp table that someone had set up earlier in the evening. “We worked real hard on them.”

You’re surprised when Tyler picks up two paper plates, puts a burger on each of them and then walks over to you, handing one of them to you before taking the seat beside you on the tailgate.

“Truce?” He says, looking across at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout today, I mean it.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You promise you didn’t poison my burger?”

Tyler chuckles. “No, not unless Kate put something in there that I didn’t see.”

“Okay, then. Truce,” you nod. “But I’m not riding with you tomorrow.”

He raises his eyebrows just as he takes a bite of his burger. It takes him a few moments to reply, refusing to speak with a mouth full of food – something his mother had instilled in him from a very young age. “What? Why? You’re not still that mad at me, are you?”

“No, I just need a change of scenery or I’m worried I’ll run you off the road. I saw the way you got today when you got distracted cause I was arguing with you. It’ll be good for us to cool off and get a break from each other.”

From across the group, Boone adds “I think you just want to argue over the radio, actually. That’s what you mean by a change of scenery, isn’t it?” His voice is teasing.

“Funny,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“You can ride with me and Lily tomorrow,” Kate changes the subject ever so slightly. “Boone can ride with Tyler. Just like old times, right?”

You look at Tyler, expecting him to be happy with the idea of you riding with the others tomorrow so you don’t bother him all day, but instead he looks concerned. His eyebrows are knotted together and the look on his face shows he’s displeased.

“Ty?”

He blinks and the look disappears off of his face. “Yeah, go for it. Boone and I’ll be right, hey buddy?” He raises his beer in a cheers to Boone, who does the same thing. “Don’t miss me too much from the other car though.”

“Me, missing you? I think you should try not to miss me, T.”

Tyler grins. “Easier said than done, sunshine.”

The following morning it feels strange to be getting into a car that’s not Tyler’s red truck. It’s your usual mode of transport. Your seat is the passenger seat and it has been for most of the chases in the past, except for ones where footage was the primary purpose of the chase and not research.

You’re just lifting your bag up into the trunk of Lily’s car when Tyler swoops in behind you and helps you lift it – as if it weighed more than it actually did, as if you were actually having trouble with it. You turn around, eyebrows raised.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Tyler grins. “Haven’t had a sudden change of heart, I see?”

“Not happening,” you smile in return. “You’ll be fine without me. You and Boone will be able to catch up like old times. And don’t worry, if we disagree on something, I’ll be sure to let you know about it over the radio anyway. I have Kate on my side today.”

Tyler laughs. “Oh, double whammy. I’m in danger today, aren’t I?”

Kate appears from the other side of the car, putting her own bag in beside yours. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and shoots a smile at Tyler. “You’re gonna regret letting her ride in a car other than yours today, Tyler. A day driving with Lily and I… she’s gonna be a changed woman by the time she gets back in your truck tomorrow.”

“That’s if I even want to get back in his truck, Kate.”

He stares at the two of you and then shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Okay, I’m getting Boone and getting out of here before Lily shows up and you guys gang up on me even more,” he turns and heads for his truck. “Drive safe, all right?”

You and Kate both laugh, watching him as he walks towards his truck, Boone joining him on the way there. Dani and Dexter aren’t far behind him, hopping into the van, and Lily comes bounding down the steps after them, her bag over her own shoulder.

“We ready for today, ladies!?” She calls loudly from across the lot.

“Let’s do this!” Kate matches her energy.

You take the back seat, feeling incredibly out of place in the car as Lily starts the engine and follows the other two cars out of the parking lot, leaving the motel behind. It’s smaller in this car compared to Tyler’s, and as you pull your laptop out of your bag and get the radar up on it to get another look at the storm you’d all chosen earlier in the morning, you wonder if you made the right choice.

You’ve been on the road for two hours, heading for a storm north of you when you look down at the radar again and see that it’s gotten smaller – not becoming the larger storm you were all hoping for and certainly not likely to produce a tornado. It’s your job to reach up and grab the radio from between Lily and Kate in the front seats to inform the others.

“The storm’s shrinking, I think we should pull into a gas station and regroup,” you tell the others through the radio, already preparing yourself for the response.

It comes through almost instantly. Tyler, laughing, then his voice: “What was that you were saying to me last night about listening to you? Guess you’re off your game, darlin’.”

Kate grabs the radio off of you before you can say anything else. “Okay, we all chose this storm together, Tyler. Let’s not throw accusations around and not over the radio.”

You’re unaware that in the truck, Boone is telling Tyler off for the exact same thing.

“Thanks, Kate,” you reach forward and squeeze her shoulder as she hands the radio back to you. “Next gas station, let’s pull in and we can all look at the radar together. I don’t think we’re gonna get anything massive in the time it takes us to regroup.”

“You sure about that, sunshine?” Tyler’s voice comes through the radio again. “I don’t know if we can trust your ability to forecast the weather anym–” His voice cuts off abruptly.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” You hear Boone say shortly after. “We’ll see you at the gas station.”

You give the radio back to Kate and lean back in your seat, sighing as you look out the window at the blue sky and the clouds scattered around it. How could he have been perfectly tolerable last night during dinner, help you with your bag this morning and yet be so irritating? You hadn’t even said anything to spur him on.

It’s about an hour later by the time you reach the next gas station and you’re grateful when you can get out and stretch your legs. Lily and Kate both head for the bathroom while you head inside to order some drinks and food for the three of you. You don’t bother to wait for Tyler when you see him hop out of his truck.

He makes his way up to you once you’re inside, waiting for your drinks to be made.

“How’s the other car goin’?” Tyler asks, nudging your shoulder gently.

You look at him, arms crossed over your chest, and look away, choosing to say nothing.

“Come on, sunshine. You’re seriously ignoring me? Where’s that fiery attitude of yours? Just cause you’re in another car doesn’t mean you can’t give me shit right back when I give it to you,” he tries.

But you’re not interested in the slightest. His words had been uncalled for – especially when you’d moved to another car in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, and he’d just brought it right back up.

The waitress slides the drinks over the counter and calls your name just as Lily and Kate exit the bathroom, heading straight for you.

“Can you guys watch my drink? I need to go grab my phone from the car,” you tell them.

Lily and Kate happily take your drink, moving to stand beside Tyler and make conversation with him as you head back outside to grab your phone. You don’t really need it that badly, it’d be perfectly fine to leave in the car till you headed back outside anyway, but it was your way of getting out of a conversation with Tyler. Not that it really was much of a conversation anyway.

When your phone is in hand, you make no hurry to walk back inside the gas station. You make note of several other storm chasers in the parking lot and filling up their cars with gas. It’s a popular stretch of road for chasers and you assume several of them had been chasing the same storm as you and had realised it was going to be a bust.

You almost bump into one of them as you’re heading back inside. You recognise him instantly. He’s in one of the more well known teams, one of the Wranglers rivals and one of the many other groups of chasers that think you guys are just in it for the money you get from the Youtube videos rather than a genuine love of weather and chasing.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Tornado Wrangler,” Xavier flashes a smile at you and holds the door open for you to enter, following in after you. “Bit of tension in the group, I hear.”

You frown, unsure about his words meaning, when he continues.

“One of my guys was switching frequencies in the van and got yours on accident. We, uh, we heard your little… disagreement with Owens,” he admits. “I promise we weren’t listening in on purpose. That’s the last thing I’d wanna do. But y’know… open channels and all.”

You can’t help but cringe at his words and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Xavier. It’s nothing a little time and a successful storm won’t fix, anyway. I think everyone in the chasing community knows Tyler and I butt heads nearly every day.”

“Butt heads? Honey, that sounded a lot more like an intentional insult to me.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, Tyler wouldn’t do that.”

Hearing that Xavier thought Tyler’s words were an insult is the kick you need to make you realise that they weren’t. Tyler was the type to get on your nerves, that was true. But the type to intentionally insult you in an attempt to hurt your feelings? He would never do that.

Xavier gives you an unimpressed look. “Listen, honey – we have a spot available in our team and it’s yours if you want it,” He reaches out and places a hand on your waist, almost making you flinch at the action. You resist the urge to hit his hand off. “You have the degree to prove you know what you’re doing and I think we both know you’re wasting your time with the Wranglers. Especially proven that their leader seems to treat you like something on the bottom of his shoe… me, on the other hand, well… I’d treat you better.”

You try your hardest to control your expression, not wanting to come across the wrong way or to make a scene in front of everyone in the gas station – your team, his team and the several other teams and general patrons all milling about and eating their mid-day feed. Even though you feel uncomfortable as all hell and would love nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his nose and book it straight back out the door.

“Listen, Xavier,” you take a step closer to him and almost cringe at the way his lips move up into a smile at your closer proximity. “I wouldn’t join your team if it was the last storm chasing team on earth. If you think I’m wasting my time with my team, I hate to think how much time I’d waste on yours. I’ve seen how much time you spend looking in your car mirrors. If you didn’t know, the tornadoes don’t actually care how your hair looks.” You reach up and pat his chest condescendingly. “And if I hear you say one more bad word about Tyler Owens, I’ll make sure the whole chasing community knows about what happened here today, how you tried to come onto me just to get me to join your team. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.”

You don’t waste anymore time in removing his hand from your waist and leaving him standing alone as you head back over to your group. Kate and Lily are watching you from right where you left them, though Tyler isn’t with them anymore.

Kate hands you your drink. “You all right? What the hell was that?”

“Just Xavier being an asshole,” you mutter, risking a look over your shoulder to see that he’s gone to join the rest of his group. You hope he’s seething and embarrassed by your words. “I dealt with him though.”

You can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling still running through your body, though. You try and take a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. It doesn’t work, really only making you feel more jittery and strange.

“I’m gonna go wait out at the car, when you guys are all done we can check the radar together and decide where to go from here, all right? You guys can tell the others?” You ask.

Kate nods. “Yeah, course. You sure you’re okay, though?”

You look between her and Lily, noticing the worried looks on their faces, and try and put a smile on your own face to stop them from worrying so much. “Yeah, I promise. It’s just packed to the brim in here and I wanna get some fresh air after all the driving.”

You can feel Kate and Lily’s eyes on you as you leave, coming out the door you’d only just come inside through. You make a beeline straight to the car, taking a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of the sun above you. The uncomfortable feeling starts to fade as you open the door to the car and climb up, putting your coffee in the cup holder and leaving your feet hanging out the door as you start to scroll on your phone to distract yourself.

It’s only a few minutes later when someone stands in the way of the sun and casts a shadow over you. You blink up to meet Tyler’s eyes. He stands in the doorway of the truck, a hand on his hip.

“Already scouting a new group to join cause of me, are you?” He starts, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and come out to see you and freakin’ Xavier all close? When the hell did that happen?”

You let out a huff and squeeze your eyes shut. “Seriously, T, can you not do this right now?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to insult you over the radio, sunshine. Usually, you give it right back to me, so that’s what I was expecting, and I know I took it too far – Boone said as much after we put the radio down. I really am sorry about it.”

You open your mouth to tell him it’s all right, that you accept his apology, but he continues speaking, cutting you off and making you glad you never got a chance to actually speak.

“But out of everyone, I see you flirting with Xavier? I mean, come on.”

“I wasn’t flirting–”

“Sure as hell looked that way to me,” he huffs. “You two were all touchy. I saw it.”

You take a deep breath and move to stand up, forcing him to move out of your way. You close the car door behind you and turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. You are not going to have this argument like this.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Tyler.”

Tyler doesn’t hesitate before he replies. “Well, that’s cause I am.”

For the first time since you’ve known Tyler Owens, you’re lost for words. You open your mouth once, twice, unable to come up with anything to say to him. It seems Tyler is the same, just staring at you, his eyes ever so slightly wide.

“Then… then you’re jealous for all the wrong reasons,” you manage.

You should be saying something else – teasing him, getting on his nerves, but your short response is all you can get out and it’s nothing like your usual tone when you talk to Tyler.

He frowns. “Why is that?”

You clear your throat. “Cause he was the one coming onto me, telling me to join his team and talking shit about you, and I was the one telling him not to talk shit about you and not to put his hands on me, like he thought he could clearly do without consent.”

As soon as you finish speaking, you regret your words only because of the look that crosses over Tyler’s face. He glances over your shoulder towards the gas station where you assume Xavier and his team still are.

“That piece of shit,” Tyler mutters, and then he’s moving.

You’re quick to react, hurrying after him and reaching out to grab his arm and attempt to tug him to a stop. It doesn’t work the first time, but the second time it does. “Tyler, stop. You going in there is not going to help anything, it’s just going to make things worse.”

Tyler turns to look at you and you’ve never seen him look so mad before.

“You’re telling me that guy put his hands on you and tried to come onto you and you don’t want me to go and give him a piece of my mind? Sunshine, he deserves worse than what I can do to him, but I’ll do my best,” he says.

You don’t miss the fact that Tyler manoeuvres your grip on his arm to take your hand in his instead, weaving his fingers in-between yours and giving your hand a squeeze.

“I’m saying that I already gave him a piece of my mind, T, and I threatened that I’d tell everyone about what he did if he said anything bad about you again,” you explain.

“I don’t care if he says anything about me, but the fact that he did that to you… everyone already deserves to know what a piece of shit he is,” Tyler seethes.

You squeeze his hand, then. “I’m sure they’ll find out one of these days, but not today, T, please. I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air and try and forget what happened.”

Tyler takes a breath and then takes a step towards you, away from the gas station. “Do you want company or do you want me to go back inside and tell the others to hang back inside a while?”

“You’d do that?”

He laughs softly. “Have the last few minutes not shown you that I’d do pretty much anything for you, sunshine? And last night? The last thing I wanted was for you to ride with someone else other than me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted, so I didn’t fight you on it.”

“And what you said over the radio this morning?”

“I missed you and the way you always disagree with me. I just acted on it the wrong way.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head. “You were a real asshole.”

Tyler’s face breaks out into a grin. “Not gonna disagree with you on that one.”

You stare up at him for a moment, honestly surprised at how quickly things had changed between you. Only minutes ago, Tyler was mad at you, then he was mad at Xavier and now he was standing here, smiling at you like you were as bright as the sun. His nickname was fitting for you, you suppose.

“Will you just come and stay with me for a bit? Till whenever the others come out?” You ask, nodding your head back towards the car where you’d been sitting before.

Tyler nods. “I have one condition, though.”

“Name it.”

“You sit in my truck instead, and you come back and ride with me in it again.”

You can’t keep the smile off your face. “That’s two conditions, actually, T.”

“And you didn’t say no to either of them,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, sunshine.”

#twisters #twisters x reader #twisters x you #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic #tyler owens fanfic

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makelemonade · 6 months ago

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Imagine sending your favourite genshin or even jjk men a video of you while they’re away on a mission/work trip.

but not just any video- specifically one where you’re on your back, a toy fucking into you and somehow you seems to have either taped the phone to your ceiling so he could see your whole body or you got a camera for the view.

but it’s not just ANY TOY. It’s those toys that produce insane amounts of fake cum and they don’t stop (I’m a slut for them okay) and he is losing it.

it’s 3 minutes, the first few seconds he’s watching you lay down, taking note of your shirt- it’s his. God that turns him on already, and what makes it worse is you have nothing else on. No parties, pants or a bra. Just his shirt.

You hike it up over your chest, mumbling “don’t wan’ get it dirty…” Your nipples are exposed and he wished he was there to play with them- hell suck on them too.

He watches you get comfy, reaching up to finally let the tip of the rather large fake dildo fit its way into your pussy and he’s surprised when it starts moving on its own- as if it has a mind.

It starts slow, and he feels himself throb against his pants, but he couldn’t take it out and jerk off just yet. He still had so much more to do today, but he didn’t wanna stop watching the video- he felt like he’d betray his morals and sin if he didn’t worship you the moment you sent the video.

Your moans make it so much worse. They’re so whiny, and he knows the toy isn’t enough for you- he knows you need his fat cock, fucking into you at a pace with a certain roughness you oh so love.

He groans when you reach one hand up to begin to play with your left nipple, whining even more as the toy started to go a bit faster. He loved the fact you were teasing yourself with it, knowing that he’d tease you just as much.

“M-miss you…” You breathed out with a moan, the toy going faster and deeper into you and your hands shoot for the sheets, gripping onto them.

He’s struggling insanely- would people notice if he left? Could he just abandon it all and come back to his slutty wife? God he was debating it.

“Nghh- baby! I need you!” You whine out as your hips start to thrust itself onto the toy and he literally almost moans at the sight.

It’s going a lot faster now, but not as fast as he could ever be with you. It’ll have to do though, since he can’t be there for you. He almost laughs however, because how could this slow toy ever truly satisfy you- it’s not like his cock which stretched you wide and the way you scream when he cums all-

Oh.

The toy cums.

His jaw drops and he literally moans at your gasp when it produces such insane amounts of fat cum to the point it forced itself out of you and went all over your chest, reaching your nipples. Now he understands why you hiked his shirt up.

It’s never-ending. There’s a pool of cum under you and it’s all over your chest. Like. ALL OVER.

It stops after 15 whole seconds of cumming nonstop and if anyone could see him right now, they’d wonder why the hell is his jaw so low, eyes so wide and DAMN his dick is so big you can see the outline just from his pants.

Yeah. Now he’s gotta take it out, he decides as he runs to a nearby private place while texting you.

Such a dirty slut. It’s ‘cum’ will never be the real thing, though. Can’t wait to come home and cum into you triple the amount it got on and in you.

^^ really any of the JJK + Genshin men I can honestly imagine them ALL. I imagined this heavily with Nanami, Geto, Alhaitham, Childe and Diluc. Also Goio but bro would teleport to u to fuck u and then teleport straight back LMFAO

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lovelettersfromluna · 7 months ago

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Too Sweet

Summary: Getting divorced from your ex wife after a measly two years of marriage wasn’t exactly your plan, so now you’re packing up and moving back to your quiet small town, will old flings bring back even older feelings?

an: Count on me to hop from dark brooding vampire Ellie to high school sweethearts Ellie within the same month. Let’s just be completely honest, are you even apart of this community if you haven’t dabbled in mechanic!ellie? Long story short, I’m a sucker for a summer romance, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: MDNI!! eventual smut in later chapters!!, this one is sickly sweet I’m sorry (but also very angsty), reader is a bit of a tough cookie at the beginning of this (her hearts broken and her walls are back up what do you want me to do), mentions of cheating (no main characters don’t worry, mentions of alcohol consumption (all characters are 21+ ofc), lots of flashbacks, lots of kissing, pet names (baby, princess, angel, and a few special ones), mentions of cigarettes, pls lmk if I missed anything!!

Read part 2 here!!

The summer breeze was cool against your body, the linen blanket protecting your bare legs from the prickly grass, the stars even seemed extra brighter, almost putting on a show for you and Ellie as you both gazed up at them.

The summer after your senior year of high school seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. One moment, you were walking across the stage in front of your entire class, taking she diploma you’d worked for since you were in kindergarten, all of those countless years of school finally coming to that moment, and the next, you’re laid out on the ground in your backyard with Ellie, soaking in the feeling of your last night together before it was time to leave for college.

You noticed Ellie’s hand reach up, finger pointing to a small pair of stars at the very corner of the deep navy blue sky.

“See those two? Tucked away in the corner? I think that one’s us…” she hummed out. It sounded like she was sure of it too, like it was a well known fact that she was simply sharing with you. It makes you giggle, rolling over to straddle the girl beneath you.

And it’s like the very stars above are in her eyes when she’s looking up at you, her hands caressing your soft, bare thighs, watching as your hair frames your face oh so perfectly. One of her hands reaches up, tucking it behind your ear as she gives you a soft smile.

“Who told you could be so fuckin pretty?” She pouts out playfully, almost angry with how beautiful you are. It makes you roll your eyes, bringing your hand down and giving her cheek a soft pinch.

“Shut up…” you mumble out, quickly becoming shy beneath your girlfriend’s gaze.

In that moment, you realize just how much you’ll miss moments like this. You were going off to the big city to live your dreams and go to college, and Ellie was staying behind because frankly, school was never really her thing. You knew that when both your decisions had been made, that it would more than likely affect your relationship. The thought makes you frown, and Ellie notices immediately.

She’s giving your thigh a soft pinch, sitting up and giving you all her attention.

“I thought we said no pouting today…you promised” she sighs out, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. It doesn’t really help, your hands loosely wrapping around her shoulders as you stare down at her lap that you’re settled on.

“I just…know that everything will change tomorrow” you sigh out, a soft pout on your lips as you avoid Ellie’s gaze.

She hums out in understanding, listening to your worries, simply allowing you to voice them. She lets a moment pass by before she responds.

“It’ll only change if we let it…I’ll come visit you all the time, and you need to come back to bake me and my dad cookies” she hums out nonchalantly, giving you a gentle shrug, which only earns a soft huff and a nudge from you to her shoulder.

“I’m serious El…I hate the idea of being without you…” you huff out softly. She chuckles as you give her a shove before she leans in to give you another soft kiss.

“I am being serious…” she drawls out, pulling away from you and cupping your cheek softly, staring into your eyes with so much love and care, it was almost unbearable.

“You’ll always be my girl…you know that” her voice is above a whisper, as if you and her were the only two people in the world. Sat there, in the quiet back yard of your even quieter neighborhood, the wind chimes clanking together on the front porch, paired with the sound of the rustling of the trees in the breeze, all of it coming together to create something of a perfect lullaby that can only be described as Ellie.

And her words make your heart bloom, giving you the hope that you needed to wake up in the morning and start your journey as a small town girl in the big city, knowing that if all else fails, you’d always have your Ellie to look forward to and depend on when you needed her.

Your cheeks almost feel sore with how big you’re smiling, leaning in and pressing a loving kiss to your girlfriends mouth, to which she accepts gladly, strong hands on your hips as she pulls you down to lay on her chest as her back hits the ground softly.

“I love you so much, Ellie…” you sigh out against her lips, barely giving yourself enough time to say it between the passionate kiss you two share. It makes her smirk against your lips, nodding as she gives your waist a gentle squeeze.

“Love you more, dream girl..” she hums out against you as she practically drowns herself in you.

It’s funny, because while that all felt like it happened just yesterday, it had been almost five years since you’d last seen Ellie Williams in the flesh.

Because as most teenage girls do, they aim for the stars. They believe that the sky’s the limit in the adult world, and where there’s a will there’s a way, and tons of other stupid sayings that are just words used to promise yourself something that may or may not happen.

All of it was just that, words that didn’t amount to anything.

Because you didn’t expect for the city and college to be the way that it was. The first night you moved into your apartment was one of the most hectic you’d ever experienced. You were a girl from a comically small town, catapulted into this fast paced world filled with adults who were going and coming from work, other students trying to make a name for themselves, and people simply trying to live.

To put things into simpler terms, you just weren’t available enough to keep Ellie in your life.

While she spoke to you on the phone almost the entire night of your first night in your apartment, soothing you and helping you sleep, and she made sure to text you in the morning and make sure you had everything you needed, your responses on the other end just became less and less frequent. Phone calls slowly stopped, text messages weren’t getting answered, and you gradually disappeared from Ellie’s life, the city swallowing you hole and keeping you away from her.

The worst part about it? You barely even noticed Ellie wasn’t in your life anymore. Between your classes and your job, you barely had enough time to breath let alone keep a relationship with your girlfriend.

It wasn’t until about a year into city life that it all happened. You were so absent, that you didn’t even realize Ellie sent you a message one day saying it was best to just be friends rather than try to keep a relationship, wishing you the best in a way that sounded far too understanding.

Before you knew it, you found a girl to take Ellie’s place in your heart. She was smart, and kind, and from the moment you laid eyes on her in a bar in the city one night after exams, you knew she had to be yours.

Soon enough she was, the two of you moving a bit too fast for your parents taste. Getting married fresh out of college wasn’t exactly what they wanted for you, but you were happy! And that’s all that truly mattered to you.

Man, should you have listened to them.

Two years. Two fucking years with the girl you were planning on devoting your loyalty to for the rest of your life was all you had, all you were given until you caught her fucking her coworker into the mattress of the bed you two shared. To say you didn’t see it coming would be a lie. Your ex wife was a fucking moron who couldn’t lie to save her ass. You’d only been gaslighting yourself for the last six months of your marriage into thinking she was just going through a rough patch or even planning some romantic getaway for the two of you.

No romantic getaways though, only heartbreak.

It was like you couldn’t even cry when you saw it, your body freezing at the sight of them in your bed once you followed the very loud trail of moans leading to your bedroom. The idiots, they didn’t even have the decency to do it in a fucking hotel or something.

So as your wife’s (ex wife) chasing you through your apartment, watching as you silently grab your suitcase and throw your things into it, the girl on your bed watching with wide eyes as she grips your favorite silk sheets against her chest to cover herself, you only truly have one thing on your mind.

“Come on baby…I…it was one time! You have to believe me!” She’s calling out like a wailing child, and the voice you once loved with all your heart sounds like nails on a chalk board. You swiftly tug your wedding ring off of your finger, tossing it onto the coffee table.

“My lawyer will send over the divorce papers” you speak out clearly, wanting her to hear ever fucking syllable that exits your mouth before you leave the apartment with the door slamming behind you, muffling her pathetic pleas behind the door.

You needed to go home.

Driving back to your home town was something you’d always imagine would be therapeutic. You imagined yourself packing your kids into a car with your wife, and making the drive all the way back to show them where their mommy grew up, allowing them to see a side of you that not many got to see.

This drive was nothing like that.

Instead, you were alone. Your old Cadillac your dad gifted you as a graduation present was practically begging you to get back on the road again. While it felt good to drive instead of taking a bus or a train, the circumstances made your heart ache.

While you didn’t cry when you initially found out about your wife’s affair, it all seemed to hit you on the drive back home, crashing down on you and making it hard to breath. You had to pull over and collect yourself for a good thirty minutes because the tears in your eyes were blurring your vision too much to drive.

You couldn’t even feel excited to go home, not with the overbearing weight of heartbreak leaving an ugly feeling in your chest.

It’s like your town is frozen in time. The same stores are there, the same shady trees, everything is just how you left it. It comes as a relief to you, because if your town had undergone a shitty futuristic makeover by some big corporate asshole looking for new business opportunities, you probably would’ve lost your mind.

The street where your house sits is just the same. There are kids riding their bikes up and down the quiet block, reminding you so much of yourself when you were their age. They even wave to you, giggling and smiling at you as if you’d been there the whole time, even though you’re sure a handful of them were born well after you’d left town.

And there your house sits, quiet and empty, practically waiting for someone to step in and fill her up. She’d been void of any of your family members ever since your parents became empty nesters and decided to travel the world. They of course let you know that the house was more than yours when they found out about your divorce. They told you they’d been needing someone to step in and take over for a while now since they’d been gone, that you were just the person they needed.

You knew they were saying that just to make you feel better.

Stepping out of your car and looking up at the house that you once called home makes your emotions all the more intense. It makes you feel old, but it makes you feel like you’d moved too fast all at the same time, your feelings contradicting each other in that sense. You have to take a deep inhale, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill out onto your cheeks as you took a moment longer to take in the big house before you decided it was time to start moving your stuff into the house.

Besides a new couch and some new paint, the house is virtually the exact same as the way you left it. It makes your heart ache, because you realize you haven’t been back since the night you left when you were eighteen years old. You were too eager, too excited to leave behind the life your parents had built around you from the day you were born, that you neglected to even visit the world that they’d created for you.

It makes you feel like a bad daughter.

And suddenly you’re crying again, with no one to hold or console you, remind you that everything is fine and it only feels like the world is crashing down on you. Your life had gone in a way that you’d never expected, taking a course that you never saw for yourself, and it had its way of ignoring everything that you’d achieved, instead making you feel like a failure.

Your bedroom hasn’t changed either. The same shitty posters and figurines are still littered along your walls, your desk and your dresser, reminding you of all the silly little interests and hobbies you had as a young girl.

All the ones you’d forgotten as an adult.

It makes your heart ache, because it feels like everything is just crashing down on you and making you feel like all the things you’d been ignoring are practically begging, forcing you to acknowledge them, forcing you to feel them.

That first night back consists of you crying in the bath, followed by crying in your bed until you’ve fallen asleep.

You don’t leave the house for a few days, almost a week, thanking the forces of the internet that DoorDash had come to your small town, allowing you to feed yourself without the consequences of stepping out into town.

You weren’t ready for that. You weren’t ready for the people of your town to recognize you, to see the once happy, golden girl of their town that made it out of it all to get to the big city, back. Now lacking that sparkle she used to have in her eyes.

They all cared about you deeply, you could see it in the way they asked your parents constantly about you. But you couldn’t face them, not yet.

It doesn’t take long for the rest of your things that you’d shipped down to arrive at your house, a big truck stopping outside your house one early morning before setting everything in your garage. Once they left, you were faced with the task of moving all of the shit you’d accumulated in the city, into your new home.

And what a surprise it was when you were just about to grab a big box, only to see a familiar old grey truck pull up into your driveway next to your car.

Joel hadn’t changed at all. He was still just as old and burly as you remembered, his eyes crinkling at the edges with those familiar little wrinkles and his smile shining through the thick hair covering the bottom half of his face.

“Well would you look at who the cat dragged in” he chuckles out as he steps out of his car, old boots settling down onto the hot concrete of your driveway as his hand rested on the top of the car door.

His presence is enough to light up your face, quickly setting down the box as you rush out of the garage to meet the man outside of his car. The feeling of his strong arms wrapping around you in what could only be described as the closest thing to what hugging a bear feels like, temporarily mends your broken heart.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again…it’s good to have you back kid…” he sighs out, chin pressed to the top of your head as you press your head against his chest. You can smell the faint scent of pine and cigarettes, further proving how much Joel has managed to stay the same since you’d last seen him.

You don’t trust yourself to respond, feeling the familiar tightening of your throat, the burning at your eyes and the tingle in your nose.

Joel had become somewhat of a second father to you, what with you and Ellie growing up together and all. Between your dad and hers being best friends, and you and Ellie being as close as you were, only to end up dating in high school, it wasn’t exactly a shock that you two had become so close with each others families.

Despite the heat of the summer time sun beating down on the both of you, you can’t bring yourself to let go of him. It feels like he’s the first person that’s hugged you in a long time and you’re fighting back the urges to cry with a fucking bat.

He chuckles softly, giving you a gentle squeeze before he pulls back, looking down into your eyes only to see that they’re pooling up with tears. You remind him so much of that little girl that was in and out of his home, stealing his daughter’s heart and running off with it to the big city to chase your dreams.

He can see so clearly just how much you’re hurting.

It makes him frown, bringing his hand up to ruffle your hair playfully.

You sniffle, biting back your tears as you stare up at the man. “What are you doing here?” You croak out, far too choked up to get a proper sentence out.

He hums softly as he looks up at the house, and then to the boxes filling up your garage, which he gestures to. “Your folks gave me a call…said you’d been comin’ home…they asked if I’d be able to help you get settled in” he explained, his eyes squinting a bit as if to size up the amount of things you had to take up before he gave a firm nod, as if confirming he’d be more than able to.

He looks back down at you, giving you his signature warm smile before he continues. “I was indeed free…so here I am” he confirmed with a chuckle.

You simply blink up at him, trying to gauge whether or not he knows, if your parents told him exactly why you were coming home along with telling him that you were coming back in the first place. Clearly you were moving back home, and he knew that you’d been married.

But he doesn’t say anything further. He doesn’t say he’s sorry, he doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He simply treats it like you’re just coming back home because you want to, not because you’re running away from something.

You decide to simply leave it at that.

Soon you’re giving him a soft smile, nodding as you look back at the boxes before leading him into the garage. You let out a soft sigh as you look at the work cut out for you two before you gesture towards them.

“It’s a lot, Mr. Miller…and I don’t expect you to help with everything so-“ he’s quickly cutting you off, the older man scoffing as he bends down to grab one of the bigger ones in a way that’s far too impressive for a man his age.

“Mr. Miller? The city went and made you all formal? Now…come inside and show me where you want these” he hums out casually, making you giggle softly before you grab a box yourself, moving to walk in front of him before you nod inside.

“Fine…but at least let me feed you once we’re finished” you make sure to add before leading him inside and show him where to place the box he had.

Soon, it’s nearly mid day and your garage is free of boxes. You almost don’t believe how quickly you and Joel were able to get all of the boxes in, the man moving quick for his age. You had to bite your tongue from mentioning it, knowing that he’d scoff and tell you he could run circles around the young kids asses any given day.

He of course lets you hold up your end of the bargain, making him a sandwich and some freshly squeezed lemonade just in time for lunch. Sitting down with him at your kitchen table makes you face just how lonely you’d been in that house. Sure, you didn’t mind doing things on your own, you were by yourself for the first three years of college before you met your ex wife. There was just something about being in your childhood home that was once bustling with life, always buzzing with the sounds of a family, now only filled with you and the soft patter of your feet against the wooden floor when you had to get from one point to another, that seemed to leave your heart feeling even more hollow than it already had become.

You knew that with some food and some spare time to simply sit with each other, conversation would erupt between you and Joel, so it didn’t come to a surprise when he finally mentioned the elephant in the room.

The plates were filled with crumbs and some discarded sandwich crust, glasses half filled with ice and a few lemon edges as you sat across from each other, the warm summer breeze blowing the lacy curtains further into the house.

“I don’t mean to pry…but what made you decide to come home?” He questions innocently. You know he isn’t doing it to gossip or lurk too deep in places that he doesn’t belong, he’s simply curious. He could see that look in your eyes when he first got there, and he knew that there was something behind them begging to get out, begging to be heard.

It makes you hum, your fingers lazily wrapped around the white and yellow striped straw in your cup, swirling around the remnants of your drink before you let out a soft sigh.

“I um…my wife and I got divorced…” your words trail off, almost ashamed to say them. You let out a soft scoff, nodding as you catch Joel’s shocked face before you continue.

“She was sleeping with her coworker…in our bed…” you pour salt on the wound with that one, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you sigh, finally looking over at Joel to see he’s giving you and apologetic frown, his hand reaching over to grip your hand on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Kid…I….fuck…I’m sorry” he tries, and you’re shaking your head to stop him before he can even continue further.

“I shouldn’t have married her so quickly…my parents told me it wasn’t a good idea but I…was too eager” you mumble out with a shrug before you give him a soft smile, your hand moving up to give his a squeeze instead, wanting to assure the now sad man that everything was fine.

“I’m okay Joel…really…if anything it’s karma for what I did to Ellie-“ he’s quickly cutting you off, seeing the way you’re simply talking out of your ass at this point.

He’s shaking his head, settling back in his chair before he cuts you off. “No…nuh-uh…Ellie has never blamed you for how things ended and you know that” his voice gets a bit more firm, wanting you to fully understand what he’s trying to convey.

You can’t help but frown as you stare down at the old kitchen table, far too deep in thought to even listen to the man. He can tell, he can see that you’re zoning out and getting deep in your head, so he pushes himself forward, resting his forearms on the table as he gets a bit closer to you.

“She knew how much leaving meant to you…she’s never once blamed you for anything” he tries again, this time trying to convey to you how truthful his words were, how much he truly meant them.

Hearing her name only makes your heart hurt more.

Because it felt like the universe was punishing you for not choosing her, for choosing the wrong girl instead of the one that you’d be given, the one that was simply perfect for you. You knew you were wrong for it, but was all of this necessary?

You don’t say anything, simply giving the man a soft smile before you nod, moving to grab the empty plates and cups and moving them to the sink, desperately trying to escape the conversation.

You hear him hum softly behind you, knowing it means he’s going to speak further. “She owns the car shop in town….bought it off of Mr. Johnson a little while after you left…” he explains.

The thought of Ellie had crossed your mind the moment you came to terms with the fact that you were moving back home. She crossed your mind a lot, but knowing that there may or may not would come a time where you’d have to face her again had your stomach in knots. You knew little to nothing about Ellie now, you didn’t know what she was doing or whether or not she was still living in town, you didn’t even know if she was with someone or not.

So to hear her father confirming that she was in fact still there, still around and not angry or bitter over the way things happened, it felt all too much like Joel trying to play Cupid between his daughter and her high school girlfriend.

His words make you freeze for a moment, your hands stilling against the dish and the sponge in your hand. He notices this, standing up from his seat at the table and moving to stand next to you, his palms pressing against the counter as his neck cranes down to eye you carefully.

“You should stop by…say hello…if you want” he assures you, wanting you to know that it was completely up to you and what you were comfortable with. You finally look up, giving the older man a soft smile before nodding.

“I…thanks Joel…for everything” you manage, finishing up the dishes before you grab a nearby rag to dry your hands. He smiles warmly as he nods before he brings his hand up to check his watch, sighing softly as he nods his head towards the door.

“I’ll be heading out now then…I have some things I need to take care of in town” he explains, looking down at you and giving you a slight nod. “You call me if you need anything missy…you hear?” He firmly reminds you before cracking a smile, reaching out and giving your arm a gentle squeeze before you walk him out of your house.

That night, Joel’s words echo throughout your head, and all you can think about is seeing Ellie again. Should you even consider it? Was it even a good idea for a newly divorced girl to be dabbling in the world of her old flings? Her first fling to be exact?? It all somehow sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Yet you couldn’t stop yourself from mentally searching through your closet for an outfit to wear on your first official outing.

After about another week of sulking in your house, you finally haul an old pair of denim shorts and a nice white linen blouse and force yourself out of your front door. Sure, you would’ve preferred crawling under your sheets and sobbing into your pillow, wondering why this had to happen to you, and why you couldn’t have a long happy marriage like everyone else, but healing had to start somewhere. You knew that you couldn’t do any of that if you continued wallowing in your own self pity.

The sun does a good job at pulling you out of your home. The weather was too nice to stay stuck inside of an old house all day. Summer vacation was in full swing, paired with the neighborhood kids bringing out the old sprinkler and everything, you’re sure you can even hear the ice cream truck coming down the road when you’re pulling out of your driveway.

It’s like you can finally see the beauty of your little town whenever you’re put together with the intention of coming out. It’s almost like the opposite of living life with rose colored glasses, instead you were blinded by a grey fog that came with your divorce, keeping you from truly seeing all that your home town had to offer.

Being in town does more for you than you’d ever imagine. Visiting the old faces that were once apart of your day to day almost makes it feel like you’d never left. Mrs. Charlotte still owns the little produce store, you’d always visit her after school and on the weekends because she always had some of the best strawberries no matter the season. The smile on her face when she saw you was one like no other, the woman grabbing you and pulling you into her chest the moment she saw you walk into her shop.

Mr. Johnny still owned the local photography store, he gave you your first job when you were sixteen years old. He’s partially to thank for helping you pay for college. You couldn’t believe your eyes when his little girl that you used to babysit was getting ready for her final year in high school, working in the same position you were when you were her age.

And Mr. and Mrs. Peters made sure to stop you when you were passing by their old pet store, Mrs. Peters unable to believe her eyes when she saw the golden girl passing by her old shop. She scolded you for not writing her earlier, letting her know that you were coming into town. You make it up to her by telling her you’re here to stay, and that you’ll make it a point to have both her and her husband over for dinner one of these days whenever they’re free.

So? Nearly nothing has changed. Sure, everyone’s gotten a bit older, but so have you. You’ve changed, and you’ve grown, and you’re so much different and so much more than the small towns golden girl that finally made it out to the big city, just to get her heart broken in the process of it all.

And that’s what you remind yourself as you find yourself pulling up to the familiar car shop that Joel had mentioned the week before.

It’s no surprise that Ellie ended up finding herself to be the owner of the local car shop in your town. She’d always loved cars, working on them, fixing them up, everyone in your school knew that if you had a problem with your vehicle, you’d call Ellie. She was the one that came together with your dad to fix his old Cadillac, fixing her up, turning her out and making her brand new for your adventures in the big city.

Standing in front of her shop makes your heart beat right out of your chest. But you’re here already, so you might as well just suck it up and walk right in.

As you do so, you can’t help but let the lingering thoughts take over. The suns already setting at this point, and you’re sure she’s close to closing up if she hasn’t already. What even was the point? Ellie probably didn’t even wanna see you! This was all Joel’s idea and what if he was just trying to make you feel-

“I’ll be right there!” You hear a familiar voice call out from the back, making your heart beat faster just from the sound of it.

She sounds the same, yet more mature. Her voice deeper with a bit of roughness to it, making her sound all the more irresistible. It makes you stand in the opened garage of her shop, surrounded by all of the cars that are opened up or hoisted up into the sky, your hands gripping your bag almost nervously as you stand there, frozen, unable to move.

Soon, she’s emerging from the back. She has a pair of navy overalls on, the sleeves tied around her waist, leaving her top half in a white wife pleaser, both of which were covered in motor oil and grease. Her arms are bigger, and covered in tattoos, something you remembered her saying she’d do the second she got the money for it. She’s taller too, and her hair is shorter, gone is the familiar pony tail she always had, instead it stops just at the nape of her neck, messily tossed into a bun while a few strands rests against her skin. her features stronger too, sharper.

She’s so different, yet so similar to the Ellie you remember, your Ellie. She still has the power of taking your breath away with a single glance.

“Well I’ll be damned…is that the dream girl?” She chuckles out with a soft smirk on her lips, pulling a red rag from her back pocket to wipe her hands clean. The nickname leaves goosebumps trailing down your skin.

Dream girl.

You recall the nickname from the many times you were with Ellie. Back when you two dated, she’d go on and on about how perfect you were, how she knew you were the girl of her dreams, animated into real life from the moment she laid eyes on you. You were the girl of her very dreams, and she never failed to remind you of that. Ever.

Hearing her call you that has your lips twitching up into a shy smile as you give her a shrug.

“In the flesh…” you mumble out, biting back an embarrassed giggle as the girl clearly drinks you in, eyes shamelessly raking up and down your body.

“Jesus…come here!” She groans out as she rushes towards you, strong arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you up, spinning you around as she keeps you in her arms. It makes you laugh loudly, a deep guttural laugh leaving your lips, possibly for the first time since your divorce.

The feeling of Ellie’s strong arms wrapping around your body feels like your missing puzzle piece has been given back to you, like you’ve been reunited with a part of you that you left behind far too long ago.

But she’s so much stronger now, and she’s older and…and…

It all just feels so right.

“Ellie stop! Put me down, you’re filthy” you whine out, landing a playful slap to her sweaty arm as she chuckles, finally setting you back down onto the floor.

She chuckles softly, settling her hands on either one of her hips as she lets out a sigh, a soft smile on her face. “I’m surprised the town hasn’t thrown a damn parade when they heard you’d be here…my god” she sighs out, practically in awe with your very appearance.

“Come on back, I’m just finishing some paperwork before I close” she nods her head to the back where she was moments ago, which you quickly follow her as she guides you.

Her garage is empty except for her, most likely working overtime after her employees had gone home, which was very much like Ellie. The walls are covered with the same posters of the bands you knew Ellie loved, as well as a healthy collection of vintage car photos, which isn’t a shock at all since those were always the center of Ellie’s car obsession.

The place seems nice and worn in, it suits Ellie in the best way.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear her let out a soft hum. She’s leaned up against her work table, wiping her hands off further with her red rag before she tosses it over her shoulder, crossing her toned arms across her chest as she eyes you fondly, a soft smile on her face.

“You haven’t changed one bit…” she hums out, eyes trailing on your face as she keeps that fine smile on hers. It makes you feel shy, the same way you felt all those years ago when your feelings for Ellie really started to shine through, and every little thing she’d say would have you giggling like an idiot.

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile as your top teeth sink into your bottom lip, shrugging as you move your hands up to loosely rest on your own arms.

“Please…the city has practically chewed me up and spit me out…I’m surprised I don’t have wrinkles yet” you huff softly, bringing your hand up to your forehead to make sure you weren’t frowning again, a habit you’d picked up recently.

Getting cheated on made you far too miserable.

She chuckles, shaking her head as her pink tongue darts out to lick her lips, still soaking you in like she would the sun.

“Nah…a face like that? Not even the city could ruin” she adds, giving you a small wink.

It warms you heart up in the best of ways, finally giving you a moment to stand still and enjoy life without letting the actions of your ex wife consume you. She makes you forget all about it, reminding you of a time where the thought of getting cheated on, didn’t even cross your mind.

You two stand there for a moment, seemingly taking each other in, enjoying the moment. It’s clear that she’s flirting, and it feels so similar to the days of your old life. It feels like the times where you and Ellie would spend hours talking outside your house or hers, when you’d shyly smile and giggle at one another when you were unsure of your feelings, when things were fresh.

You can tell Ellie feels it too, because she’s quick to blink a few times in your direction before she clears her throat, smile dropping as she turns around to busy herself with something on her desk.

“How’s that wife of yours? Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding…was um….was busy” she mumbles out.

Although her back is facing you, you can practically hear the way her eyebrows furrow and her lips twitch into a frown. It was a subject that you two hadn’t spoken about much. You’d told Ellie about your ex wife when you two first started dating, and you told her about the engagement and the wedding you’d been planning, because before anything else, Ellie was your friend, and you two shared everything with each other.

But you couldn’t ignore the almost nauseating weight that settled in when you spoke to her about it. The way she tried to seem as happy for you as she could without letting underlying feelings bubble up to the surface.

You could sense that same weight now, as she asked you about the woman that broke your heart.

It rips you away from the little fantasy you’d been given with Ellie, reminding you of the dark reality of why you’d returned, and what it was that had forced you out of the city and back to your home town. Thinking about telling Ellie about what happened and actually doing it were two very different things, and the seconds of silence that passed between you began to turn into minutes, minutes where you silently begged to disappear into thin air instead of admitting to Ellie what it was that happened.

“Um…she…” you stuttered out, struggling for a moment before your eyes fluttered shut, and you took a deep inhale, grounding yourself before you finally spoke once more.

“We got divorced.” You finally manage to get out, your balled up fists finally relaxing down at your sides as your shoulders deflate, the weight of your situation finally releasing itself from your body as you admitted it to her.

You see her still for a moment, movements halting completely as she struggles to comprehend what it was that you’d said, what it was that she was hearing.

Hearing about your girlfriend was a jab to the chest, but it wasn’t like she didn’t see it coming. Plus, it’s just a girlfriend! And you were all the way in the city anyways, who was Ellie to be jealous of that? Hearing about your engagement was also fairly hard, it wasn’t like she spent countless nights at the bar drowning out her sorrows over the one that got away. Seeing your actual wedding invitation though? Man, that was fucking hard. Ellie isn’t entirely sure how she got through that part. Ignoring it was the easiest way how.

Ellie would spend night after night wishing on a single star that you’d get divorced from that woman, knowing deep down she wasn’t the right one for you. Call it a gut feeling or call it jealousy, whatever it was, there was a constant lingering feeling that Ellie had ever since you’d gotten married that left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that she felt wouldn’t end well with that girl.

And now you’re here, standing in the middle of her old car shop, telling her that you were in fact divorced, and one of the countless stars in the sky has listened to her.

But she can’t move. She’s frozen in place as she eyes the papers on her desk, that now have no purpose to her since the only thing she can focus on is your words. It makes you nervous, and you take it was an opportunity to clear your throat, wanting desperately to cut the silence in half.

“Your dad told me you owned this place now…so I thought I’d visit…” you mumble out awkwardly, struggling to find the words to say to Ellie as she simply stood there, back turned to you for what felt like an eternity.

She inhales deeply, finally turning around to face you. You weren’t entirely sure what you expected her expression to read, but you’re surprised to see that she’s frowning, a soft sigh leaving her lips as she leans her palms back on her desk, shaking her head a she eyes you.

“Always knew those city girls were no good…I’m sorry sweetheart” she sighs out genuinely. You give her a shrug, shaking your head as you send a half smile her way.

“I’m just glad it happened sooner than later…saying I have an ex wife is cool though” you snort out, which earns a chuckle from Ellie as she nods in agreement.

“Very cool…makes you sound all grown up” she winks at you before she nods her head at you. “You still staying at your old place? Or did you find somethin’ in town” she hums out, clearly trying to change the subject for your own comfort.

And hers….

You hum softly as you nod, gesturing off to the direction of your home. “Yup…my parents treat the place like it’s a vacation home…I was practically taking it off their hands” you sigh out in fake annoyance, which makes Ellie laugh softly as she nods.

“Man…haven’t seen those two in a couple of years. You’d think they’re on their honeymoon” she adds, making you giggle as well.

The summer breeze blows swiftly against your body, your hair blowing with it, fallen blossoms from the apple trees in town dancing along your feet. It doesn’t help that you’re dressed in the same pair of denim shorts Ellie used to love so much, looking all too familiar to the girl of her passed, yet so different at the same time.

She stares at you shamelessly, smiling fondly as she simply takes you in.

You furrow your eyebrows, biting back a smile as you eye her closely. “What are you staring at, Williams?” You ask her, clearly teasing the girl as she gives you a shrug, biting down on her bottom lip as she gives you a smile.

“You expect me to not stare when a pretty girl is stood in my shop? What do you take me for” she shoots out far too smoothly, making you roll your eyes. You shoo your hand at her, turning around to make your way back to your car, knowing that if you stay any longer, you’ll probably end up getting charmed by Ellie all over again.

As if she hadn’t already done that the moment you laid eyes on her.

“I’m freshly divorced missy…not exactly the top choice at the market” you scold her jokingly, giving her a small wave as you walk out onto the curb, making your way back to your car.

“Just wanted to stop by and say hello…don’t wanna keep you any longer” you hum out, giving the girl a small smile as your hand reaches for the handle of your car.

Ellie is moving before she can think, eyes widening as she quickly follows you out to your car, her larger hand gently resting over your own as she moves to pull your car door open for you.

“My um…my number hasn’t changed…if you still have it and you wanted to talk…or hang out or something…” she mumbles out shyly. For a moment, you see her drop the smooth, suave demeanor she had mere moments ago, saying all the right things and strumming all the right chords. For a moment, she’s Ellie. She’s the Ellie that stuttered and struggled to get the words out when she asked you out the first time, or asked you to be her girlfriend.

She’s the Ellie that you make nervous.

“Do you…have my number still?” She asks nervously, worried she’d been reading into this all wrong. It makes you giggle, nodding as you lean your back against your car, staring up at the girl before you speak.

“Of course I have your number, Ellie…wouldn’t lose it for the world” you hum out as you give her a soft smile, which has her eyes twinkling as she gives you a small smile.

“Good…” she managed out as she watches you get into your car.

She hums as she leans down, pressing her arms against the edge of your window, looking into your car before she looks at you. You feel your insides burning at how fucking close she is at that.

“A buddy of mine s’got a gig down at the Copper Cat this Saturday…if you wanted to come out” she casually invites you, eyeing you closely to try and gauge your response to it.

Your eyes widen a bit at the mention of the old bar, memories swirling into your head like a hurricane. “The Copper Cat?? That place is still opened??” You practically shriek in shock of the old bar still being up and running. Your response makes Ellie chuckle as she nods.

“Yup…and it’s better than ever too. They remodeled last summer” she explains, you don’t miss the proud smile on her face as she practically beams at you. You giggle softly as you nod slowly before you hum, looking down at your lap for a moment as you thought about it a bit. Your ex girlfriend was inviting you to some mediocre show at an even more mediocre bar in the small corner of your town, and you were newly divorced…

What could go wrong with that

You smile up at her before giving her a nod. “Text me and let me know what time you’ll be there” you give her a nod, confirming that you’ll come. You can see the see the way her eyes practically twinkle at that, nodding eagerly as she smiles.

“I’ll pick you up” she quickly replied, leaving no room for you to decline, because she’d already pushing herself up and off of your window, giving you a bright smile as she nods her head in the direction of the main road.

“Go on…before I keep you here even longer than I’m supposed to” she gives you a wink, which sends your heart until a flurry of emotions, sparking it all up all over again before you roll your eyes playfully, and drive off after giving her a small wave goodbye, her smile seemingly seared into the forefront of your brain as you grinned like an idiot while making your way back home.

God…were you fucked.

This wasn’t a date.

This was simply two old friends catching up after a long time! Ellie had asked you to come out because she probably felt bad for you. She could probably see the tears stained into your cheeks and the absolute trail of sadness that followed you around and thought, ‘this girl could use a night out’, so she invited you.

This wasn’t a date.

It was a pity invite! A date would have been some place nice. Ellie was romantic, you knew that. She’d treated you better in your puppy love relationship than most girls did while you were in the city, so of course suggesting to go to the bar was keeping it friendly.

This wasn’t a date.

It wasn’t a date. It was just you going out to a bar because you’re single now and you can do what you want without feeling guilty or wrong for doing fun things. That’s all. It wasn’t a date at all.

But if it wasn’t a date…why were you so fucking nervous.

You visited Ellie at her shop on Monday, you weren’t set to see her again until Friday night, so why was it the only thing you could think of? You could only think of what to wear, how to act, if you should text her or not, would that be pushy? Would that be overstepping? She told you her number hadn’t changed! So obviously that meant she wanted you to text her….right?

Right?

God, who knew at this point. All you knew, was that you were set to see Ellie this weekend. Regardless of it being a date or not, it was nerve wracking. So when Friday afternoon finally rolls around, you find yourself partaking in things that are a steering a bit too close to pre date activities.

Such as making sure your entire body was nice and moisturized, but that was just for you! That wasn’t for Ellie to touch or squeeze…or making sure your hair was cleaned and styled, that’s just because you want to be presentable! You can’t let the people of your town see the mess your ex wife made. Or doing your makeup and picking out the perfect outfit. That was simply because…you wanted to! Nothing more, nothing less.

You settled on a simple yellow sundress with pink flowers, it hugs your middle perfectly and flows down to your calves, making it just enough to look like you put a bit of effort into your appearance. It almost felt like a breath of fresh air to haul on any old pair of shorts or a nice dress to go out, something the city rarely allowed. The city was too into appearances, everyone needing to wear the best clothes and the trendiest styles when setting foot outside, especially on a night out. It was fun, but it became exhausting after a while, all you wanted to do was to wear your comfy clothes without getting nasty looks.

The beauty of living in a small town.

When you’re finally ready, you catch a quick look at yourself in the mirror, more than happy with your overall appearance before you take a deep breath, and send Ellie a text.

Hii :)

I’m all ready whenever you wanna come by

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for Ellie to read and respond to your messages.

Awesome :)

I’m omw

You smile softly at her messages, heart beating a bit faster at the thought of her coming over as you click your phone shut, and move to sit in your living room to wait for the girl to arrive.

It’s almost comedic how quickly you move to sit on your couch, knee bouncing anxiously as you wait for the girl to pull up to your house. Sitting there gives you too much time to think, too. Because what if this is a bad idea, what if you’re just blinded by the manic excitement that comes with seeing Ellie again, the thrill of being with her, because you’re still very much heart broken, and it isn’t like everything will simply disappear once she’s-

And suddenly you can’t think anymore, because all you can hear is a firm knock at your front door, echoing through your house.

It catches the air in your lungs and practically runs with it, leaving you panicking as your eyes flutter between the front door and the clock, and you realize it’s been about fifteen minutes since Ellie’s texted you, and you’d just been sitting on your couch overthinking as always.

Your feet seem to have a mind of their own as they carry you to your front door, moving to open it before you can even come to terms with opening up for it.

And if you think Ellie looked good when you saw her at her shop? God…you didn’t know what good looked like until now.

The white t shirt she wears hugs her body beautifully, covered by an old leather jacket that fits her even better. Her toned thighs are clad in what you can only assume to be expensive blue denim jeans, simply by how perfectly they fit her. It’s all covered with a fucking cherry on top when you take in her black boots, and a singular silver necklace dangling from her neck.

You’re sure she’ll notice your heart beating out of your chest any second now.

She’s smiling brightly when she takes you in, eyes raking down your form before she chuckles. “Look at you…could almost pass for one of us small town folk in that one..” she hums out, nodding in approval at your laid back outfit.

It makes you roll your eyes, landing a playful nudge to the girls arm as you adjust your bag further on your shoulder. “Please…I dressed like this even when I lived out there” you try to defend yourself, giving her a small frown before you nod your head out to her car.

“Should we get going? Wouldn’t wanna miss the main act” you hum, wanting to get out of your house desperately.

Half of the reason being because you seriously needed to get out of your house and socialize with people that weren’t your mother’s porcelain figurines….

And the other half being you simply couldn’t handle the close proximity of someone as good looking as Ellie much longer.

She hums softly as she nods, stepping to the side and she gives you a bit of space to walk out of your house. “After you, city girl” she teases you once again, earning yet another look of warning from your end, which she simply giggles at.

You can’t contain the gasp you let out when you finally lay eyes on Ellie’s ride. The vintage black mustang practically sparkles in the low light of the afternoon sun. You can’t help yourself from reaching out and running your fingers along the shiny body of the car.

“Jesus Christ Ellie….if I knew you’d pick me up in this, I would’ve dressed nicer” you practically gasp out. Ellie chuckles softly as she watches your reaction closely, nodding slowly as she looks at the car with you.

“Hey…city girl comes to town? I need to pull all the stops” she explains with a nonchalant shrug. It makes you groan in annoyance, because did Ellie truly have to be this perfect? Couldn’t she have grown up to be a moron like your ex wife?

Why did she have to be something out of a fucking romance novel.

You’re too in awe with the vehicle to acknowledge her remark, a soft, dreamy sigh leaving your lips as you bend down a bit to look at the cream colored leather interior. “You fix this up yourself?” You hum out softly, although you already knew the answer to that question, you wanted to hear her gloat about it.

You can practically hear the cocky grin on the girls face as she nods. “Is the sky blue? Come on angel…you know nobody does it like me” she grins out, moving to stand behind you.

“Longer you stare at her, less time you have in her…” she practically purrs out. You have to ignore the way your stomach does flips at her tone, nodding eagerly as you rush to the other side of the car, to which Ellie quickly beats you to it.

“Nu-uh-uh…a lady never opens her own door, especially a city-“ you press your hand to her mouth, silencing her from finishing her sentence as you give her a displeased look.

“Finish that sentence and I’m going back inside” you deadpan, which makes Ellie quickly nod as she gives you wide eyes, opening the door for you in silence. You giggle softly, patting her cheek gently before you get into her car. “Much better” you praise her.

She chuckles softly, waiting for you to get in before she rushes to her side to get in and start driving as well.

The familiar bar hasn’t changed at all since you’d last been there. It’s almost scary how much everything’s frozen in time in the small town, leaving little to no room for changes. It makes you sigh softly, a gentle smile on your lips as Ellie pulls into the parking lot.

“Man….this place really never changes, huh?” You sigh out almost in awe, which makes Ellie chuckle as she shuts the car off.

“What can I say….Our town prioritizes tradition” she teases before she looks over at you, giving you a soft smile before nodding her head towards the building. “Come on, my buddy should be up any moment now” she urges gently before she gets out of the car, prompting you to follow when she opens up the door for you.

Inside, the place is buzzing. Filled to the brim with the people of your town, young and old, all of them eager for a night of fun after a long week of work. The atmosphere differs greatly from what you’re used to, the clubs and bars back in the city always having a strange vibe to them, one that you couldn’t ever really put your finger on.

Being there, with the people that had been born and raised in the same town as you, you were finally able to remember what it was that was missing in the city…

It was that the people here, were actually having fun.

“I’m gonna grab a drink, you want one?” Ellie leans down next to you, her voice raising a bit to combat the loud music that was already playing. You hum softly, trying your best to ignore the way her scent fills your knows and almost makes you feel drunk. You merely give her a nod and a soft smile before leaning in to speak into her ear as well. “A rum and coke if that’s okay!” You shout out to her, which earns a smile and a nod. She gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “find us a spot, I’ll find you when I have them” she urges before disappearing off into the sea of people to find the bar.

You let out a breath you’d seemingly held from the moment Ellie picked you up from your house, exhaling loudly as you look around at the packed room. There are various booths and stools available to sit, but you opt to lean up against a nearby wall, mainly because you seriously needed a time out from the amount of people there.

You truly didn’t expect for so many people to be there, thinking that it would be a barely packed house with a few of Ellie’s friends there to watch the mystery person she’d been boasting to you about. You couldn’t tell if everyone was there to see the performance, or if they were there simply to socialize and drink. You figured it was a mix of both.

Quite a bit of time passes by, and it makes you wonder if Ellie got lost or was having trouble finding you or something. You knew it was stupid to stand on the wall, so you figure you’d search for her instead.

Pushing yourself off the wall and emerging into the sea of people makes you frown, apologizing and squeezing through various people, trying your best to map out where the bar should be. You feel you can just make out the flooded area, when you finally spot Ellie.

And the girl that’s been keeping her from you.

You can see Ellie holding your drink in her hand, and one you can assume is for herself as the girl chats her up. You can barely make out who Ellie is speaking to, but from the back? You can tell she’s a looker. Her pretty hair falling down her back, attractive figure, even the way she leans in and presses her hand against Ellie’s arm whenever she laughs makes it clear that this girl is pretty, because all pretty girls know how to flirt in just the best ways possible.

And it’s the strangest fucking feeling, because even thought you caught your ex wife fucking another woman in the bed you both shared, what you feel when you see another girl touching Ellie’s arm doesn’t come close to anything you’ve ever felt before.

Because you’ve never had to see this. You’ve never had to see someone else throw themselves at Ellie. When you were dating, everyone knew that you were hers and she was yours, and even before you two were dating, everyone assumed you were both off limits anyways. It was something that you never had to face, because in the entire time that you’d known Ellie, she was yours.

But now she wasn’t. And it was clear that everyone knew that.

It makes you want to turn around and go home, ignore the ugly feeling in the pit of your stomach, call a cab and hide in your house for another month. You weren’t ready for this, these feelings that you were faced with were too much, and too fucking confusing. You wanted your bed, and your room, and your house where you were safe and no one and nothing could hurt you, you just needed to turn around and-

“Awe, there she is. Over here!” Ellie’s voice calls out over the loud music, cutting each and every one of your loud, annoying thoughts in half. Your eyes widen a bit when the girl finally turns around, only confirming the point that you had come to earlier. If anything, she puts all of that to shame, because she’s even more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

You don’t recognize her, but she’s smiling brightly and waving you over as if she recognizes you, beckoning you over as if you’d all been friends since you were babies. You have to stop yourself from frowning, knowing both this girl and Ellie owed you nothing. You put on a smile, inhaling deeply and making your way over to the both of them.

“Sorry I took so long, I couldn’t find you anywhere” Ellie quickly apologizes as she hands you your drink. You quickly shake your head, clearing the lump that had formed in your throat before you give her a small smile.

“Uh…no worries. I was in an awkward spot anyways, so that’s my fault” you assure her.

She can tell something’s wrong just in the way you’re speaking, and it makes her eye you closely, trying to gauge your expression, eager to figure out what’s made the sudden change in your mood. It makes her frown slightly, eyebrows furrowed as she peers down to watch you before she leans in a bit. “You okay?” She questions softly, her hand coming up to squeeze your arm gently.

The tone of her voice and the hand on your arm makes you want to explode. It makes your head spin and it makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs, because Ellie does not owe you anything! She isn’t your girlfriend, and this is simply two friends catching up after not seeing each other for a long time, and it was absolutely doing your head in that she was speaking to you like that wasn’t the case.

So you give her a smile, nodding quickly as you shake her hand off of your arm. “I’m fine, just a bit flustered with the crowd…um…is this your friend?” You as gently as you gesture towards the girl that was politely standing there as you and Ellie had a moment, not daring to intervene as she quietly sipped on her drink and people watched, as to not make things even more awkward than they already were.

Ellie’s frown deepens when you shake her grasp off, eyeing the way her hand falls from your arm. It leaves a bitter taste on her tongue, not used to this far off, separated feeling that’s settled between the two of you. She wants to dwell on it further, but your question makes her blink out of her confused daze, looking over at the girl standing in front of her.

“Fuck…right, yes. This is Lilac, she moved into town a few years ago” Ellie explains.

Great, even her fucking name was beautiful.

You’re met with the prettiest pair of eyes when Ellie says her name, the girl smiling brightly as she hears Ellie introduce her.

“Ahh no need to be formal, darlin’. Ellie has told me so much about you” she practically squeals out.

You’re a bit taken aback when instead of shaking your hand, she tugs you in for a hug, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close, nearly making you spin your drink. Your eyes widen, using your free arm to wrap around her shoulders and hug her back. You catch Ellie chuckling softly as she brings her drink to her lips, trying to hide her smirk.

Lilac pulls away, pretty glossy lips pulled into a smile as she eyes you, a gentle sigh leaving your lips as she takes you in. “I was wondering when I’d get to meet you…I promise you, I’d hear at least half the town going on and on about you the first month of living here” she giggles out. You smile softly as you nod, taking a sip of your drink before you shrug.

“Sorry about that…I’ve been hiding I guess” you mumble out sheepishly, lips ghosting over the rim of your cup as you desperately try to take in as much of your drink as you could without slugging it down like an animal.

There was no way you’d be getting through this night sober.

Ellie watches as the two of you interact, smiling softly as she takes a sip of her own drink ever so often before she intervenes.

“Lilac works on the daily paper….came in and made it all fancy for us” Ellie chimes in. Her words make Lilac giggle softly, leaning in and pressing her hand against Ellie’s arm, giving her a gentle push.

You try your best to ignore how much that fucking annoys you.

“Oh please. All I did was order in some new printing paper and add pretty fonts. Don’t let her fool you” she chirps, leaning into you with raised eyebrows as she gives you a giggle. You don’t even have time to respond to her before she’s asking you another question.

“I hear you’re from the city…I’ve dreamed of being there all my life, can’t imagine what would bring someone back to a little town like this” she sighs out almost dreamily.

Although there’s no malice or blunt force to her words, you can’t help but take it that way. It’s clear she’s simply making conversation, trying to get to know you better. Maybe it’s the liquor slowly but surely making its way through your system, making you feel looser, making your tongue looser.

“Wasn’t really my plan” you make out, eyes drifting elsewhere as you bring your cup back to your lips.

God….you just wanted to go home.

She doesn’t quite catch the bitter tone in your words, because soon enough there’s an announcement echoing through the bar, and you know it’s time for that friend that Ellie had mentioned earlier to get on stage and perform.

Lilac squeals excitedly, jumping up and down as her hand grips Ellie’s arm, the girl clearly over the moon for whoever it was that was performing.

Great….she knew the guy too?

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, the foreign feeling of jealousy tapping on your shoulder, reminding you of all those intense feelings you’d once had for Ellie. Bringing your cup to your lips to occupy yourself makes you realize the drink was done, making you groan softly.

Your eyes drift over to Ellie and Lilac, both of them enamored with the man that was beginning his on stage. It makes you sigh softly before you lean into them, shouting over the loud music.

“I’m gonna get another drink, you guys want anything?” You barely make out over the loud guitar riff, the both of them denying before they brought their attention back to the musician. With that, you swiftly make your way through the crowd over to the bar.

The second you’re pressed up against the bar, it feels like you can breathe again. Your cheeks felt hot, your chest felt hot, hell, your entire fucking body felt hot. And the worst part of it all, is you could barely decipher the feelings that were plaguing your mind and body.

You sighed softly as you thanked the sweet bartender for the drink. There was enough space at the bar for you to turn around and gaze at the crowd, eyes drifting along the sea of people as you simply sipped on your drink, trying your best to regroup after the entire situation with Lilac.

Because it was weird. All of it was so fucking strange and it was doing your head in. The feeling that sank to the bottom of your stomach when you first laid eyes on them was one you couldn’t recognize. It was rare that you ever felt jealousy in your last relationship, which was honestly something that made you feel quite secure in your marriage. Your wife never truly gave you any reasons to feel that way, her attention always on you, never failing to make you feel like the only girl in the room. Thinking back to all of it, the way your marriage ended was almost comedic.

So seeing Ellie, your ex girlfriend of almost five years, and Lilac, one of the most beautiful girls you’d ever laid eyes on, simply laughing and touching one another as friends do? It made you want to rip the entire building you stood in, brick, by brick.

The thoughts alone make you frown, a gentle sigh leaving your lips as you stare down into the fizzy cup of ice, alcohol and soda in your hand. You felt…so conflicted, so wrong for allowing these feelings to fill you up and make you feel so intensely about someone who didn’t even feel that way about you anymore, and did you even feel that way about her anymore? It was just Ellie. She was your best friend before anything else, so what if she flirts with a pretty girl! You’d be stupid to think she didn’t have other people in her life after you left. What? Did you think she’d simply sit around waiting for you-

But when you finally lift your eyes up to scan the crowd again, what you find brings all of those thoughts to a halt once again.

Because now you’re seeing Ellie’s hand placed on Lilac’s middle, leaning in as the pretty girls lips ghosted along Ellie’s ear, giggling as she whispered unknown words to her.

And that’s when you realized, you couldn’t do this.

You quickly down the rest of your drink, shoving your hand into your purse and grabbing a fistful of money, sliding it over to the bartender and telling him to keep the change in a low voice. You pass the glass over to him, and begin making your way out of the sea of people in the dimly lit room.

You were stupid to think this was a good idea. Your emotions were so scattered, so messy and cluttered in your head. You were going through a fucking divorce, and now you were getting angry over the mere thought of your ex girlfriend standing next to another girl, let alone going further than that. You needed to get your shit together, and if that meant cutting newly mended ties with Ellie, then so fucking be it.

And it’s as if the once crowded bar isn’t able to cover your escape, because you can faintly make out the sound of someone calling for you. You cross your fingers, and hope that it’s someone from high school that just so happens to be there, recognizing you and trying to get a moment with you before you’re able to pounce out of the building.

But unfortunately for you, it’s not. You keep going anyways, hoping that Ellie will drop it or get caught up with someone or something else along the way of her high speed chase for you, but of course, she doesn’t.

You let out a loud sigh when you finally push past the heavy metal doors of the bar, the cool summer breeze wafting against your clammy skin, cooling down your warm cheeks. You hadn’t even realized it before, but you were practically covered in sweat from all the excitement that had washed over you in such a short amount of time.

Ellie is quick to wrap a gentle hand around your wrist, stopping you from running further.

“Hey…where you runnin’ off to? Shows barely even started” she pants out, her own cheeks flushed from pushing and shoving through people to get to you.

The ugly little monster that is jealousy dies immediately when you turn around to look at her. Partially because you know you need to quickly make up an appropriate excuse to your sudden departure, because surely you couldn’t tell her the true reason behind your disappearance…

And also because just looking at Ellie makes you feel whole again.

You let out a gentle sigh before giving her a half smile. “I’m uh…I’m pretty tired and I feel a tad drunk. You and Lilac looked like you were having fun so I didn’t wanna bother…” you explain, ignoring the way the sweet girls name leaves a rather bitter taste on your tongue.

Ellie nods, her expression gentle and understanding as she fishes her keys out of her pocket. “You should’ve told me. Come on, let’s get you home” she affirms with a soft smile, nodding her head towards her car as she begins leading you over.

Her words make you quickly shake your head, stepping in front of her to stop her from getting closer to her car.

“No! No Ellie it’s fine. You were really excited to come tonight and I don’t wanna stop you from having fun so just go back in and-“ you’re rambling at this point, a common habit you’d developed since you could speak. Ellie knew this, because every time you were flustered, or scared, or even happy, your emotions would get the best of you and you’d spew out words like a sprinkler.

So she chuckles softly, bringing her hand up to your arm and giving it a gentle squeeze as if to stop you.

“Slow down, peach” she hums out smoothly. The pet name makes your insides burn, her voice sounding like fucking butter as she soothes you, instantly calming you down and shutting you up just as she wanted.

“There you go…breath” she gives you an encoring nod, paired with another firm squeeze to your arm before she finally lets go, giving you a soft smile before she speaks again.

“I was excited to come out with you tonight. I see that guy perform every Friday” she explains with a soft laugh before she nods her head to her car once again.

“So, let’s get you home and in bed. Your parents would kill me if I let you roam around at night….even though your house is and ten minute walk from here” she shrugs before she presses her hand to the small of your back, leading you to her car without a choice.

It makes you whine softly, throwing your head back like a child as she opens up your door and helps you into the car. You aren’t even that drunk, a bit warm and tipsy, sure, but you were fine to make it home on your own.

However…her warm hand on your skin, paired with the babying, was nice.

Damn her for being so fucking perfect.

A soft huff blows past your pouted lips as she settles into the drivers seat next to you, which makes her snicker as she starts the car. “Quit pouting…it was getting too crowded in there anyways, was gonna suggest we head out right before you tried to ditch me” she shrugs nonchalantly, which earns a playful swat to her arm from your end.

“I was not ditching you! I really am tired” you protest, which only makes Ellie chuckle as she puts her hands up in her defense before she expertly pulls out of the parking lot, one hand on the steering wheel of course.

“Uh-huh….lets get you home then” she affirms as she gives you a wink before she makes her way to your house.

The summer breeze is cool against your skin, the windows down on Ellie’s car, soft music playing through it as you two simply enjoy the comfortable silence that falls between you both. It reminds you of the parties Ellie would drive you both home from, only for her to sneak up to your room with you and pass out in your bed, cuddled up into each other. Sneaking was a stretch, as your parents always knew she’d be spending the night when you two were out late.

The memories make the heart ache, and your throat swell, that familiar melancholy feeling filling you up at the reflection of the past staring at you in a pool of your memories.

You barely realize you’ve pulled in, the gentle hum of the car coming to a stop as Ellie lets her palms fall to her thighs, a gentle sigh leaving her lips as she stares up at your dark home, nothing but the porch light on to greet guests.

“Well…I hope you had fun tonight, peach…” she hums out softly when she finally turns to you, gentle green eyes shining in the dim lighting of her car, barely illuminated by the light beaming down from the moon in the clear night sky.

And you know you shouldn’t do it. You should just thank her for the night out, wish her a good night and go inside your house. You were tipsy, and you were extremely emotional, and you were lonely. All of it was a recipe for disaster, and you knew it.

But somehow, you don’t stop the words that fall from your lips.

“Do you wanna come inside?” You ask quickly, watching as the girls eyebrows raise in surprise at your sudden burst of hospitality. You inhale deeply before you continue.

“It’s late and…the least I could do is give you something to eat, or drink after making us leave early” you explain further, your hand gripping the edge of Ellie’s leather car seat as you stare at her.

When she doesn’t say anything, you feel like an idiot. She’s just staring at you and you suddenly feel like you’ve read into this all wrong, it’s been years! Why on earth would she want to come inside and hang out with her ex girlfriend, she probably has much better things to do.

“I’d love to” she beams out, giving you a bright smile before she opens her car door, gets out, and makes her way over to open yours to let you out.

You can practically feel the weight lift off of your chest when she agrees, a soft sigh of relief leaving your lips as you lead her to your front door, making your way up the steps and unlocking it before letting her in.

Ellie hums softly when you turn on the lights, eyes wandering around the familiar home as you toss your purse onto a nearby hanger, as well as kicking your shoes off near the front door.

She hangs her jacket up on the coat rack near the door like muscle memory right after she shuts the front door behind her, a soft smile on her lips as she watches you make your way to the kitchen and open up your fridge.

“I have water, iced tea, lemonade….” You list off the various contents in your fridge before you look over at the girl behind you, watching as she stands in the middle of your living room. “Water is fine” she hums out with a smile, which you nod and grab for her.

Your home is like a breath of fresh air compared to where you and Ellie where not even an hour ago, the two of you quickly falling into old habits as it takes no more than ten minutes for the two of you to make your way out to your back porch, taking a seat on the comfy outdoor couches your father had added in right before you moved out.

Another guttural laugh passes through your lips as you toss your head back, listening to Ellie catch you up on all the small town mishaps and shenanigans that you had missed, and yearned for oh so much since you'd gone.

"Are you kidding me? They fought over a decade old prom crown? I would have paid big money to see that shit" You gasp out, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye as you finally manage to catch your breath.

Ellie chuckles as she nods, bringing her water to her lips before she shrugs. "I'll tell you one thing, I had no idea those old ladies could move like that" She adds with a snort, ripping another burst of laughs from your sore chest.

You don't catch it, but Ellie simply watches you fondly as you toss your head back and laugh, a gentle smile playing on her lips as you struggle to find the words. It warms her heart even further to know that she was the one pulling that out of you, making you smile so big, laugh so hard.

You groan softly, exhaling tiredly as you place a hand on your chest as if to calm yourself. "Man....I seriously cannot remember the last time I've laughed this hard" You add, a soft, satisfied smile on your lips, unaware as to how sad your words may have sounded.

It hits you when you notice Ellie's gentle frown, the one that she gave whenever she was disappointed or when she knew something wasn't right.

"That's a shame...you used to laugh all the time when you were with me" She says matter-of-factly.

Her words catch you off guard, mostly because it was true. Being with Ellie was filled with nothing but smiles and laughs, the ones that had you keeling over and holding onto your belly as you shed a tear or two, unable to control the laughter that left your body, the happiness that filled you up when she was able to pull it out of you.

You hadn't even realized it, but you were pretty sure the last time you laughed like that, was with Ellie.

You hum softly, staring down at your lap as you toy with the frills of your dress, thinking back to all of those times, wishing so badly you could be that girl again.

Wishing you could live that life again.

It's getting late at this point, the warm summer breeze growing colder the higher the moon rises into the sky. It blows onto your skin, goosebumps littering your arms. You feel it's time to tell Ellie to leave, the air growing heavy as you both sit there in silence, her words hanging between you, begging to be responded to.

When you open your mouth to tell her that you're tired, and that she should probably head home, you're interrupted by the feeling of her calloused fingers gently gripping your chin, pulling you to look into her eyes.

"I....I don't know what happened...or why you two decided to split up..." she mumbles softly, and you know she's referring to your ex wife without even saying her name.

She inhales deeply, pink tongue darting out to wet her plump lips slowly before she speaks again. "But I couldn't imagine ever letting someone like you go....no matter what" she sighs out, her eyes staring into yours intensely.

And suddenly, you aren't you anymore. You are, but....you're a different you. You're the you that's filled with hopes and dreams, the you that wrote in her diary every night about everything she was going to do once she made it, the you that would peek her head out of her window to see her girlfriend standing out on her lawn, waiting to pick her up, take her out, and simply drive with the music on and the windows down, enjoying each others company.

You're the you, that's in love with Ellie.

Her green eyes sparkle like gems in the moonlight, the white light illuminating half of her pretty face, making a lump form in your throat as you struggle to find the words to say. You can feel her hand gently creep up to cup your face, and it makes your skin burn even hotter beneath her touch.

The familiar sound of the wind chimes rings through your ear, transporting you back to that very same night, five years ago when you were splayed out on the lawn that was a mere few feet away from you, kissing and loving on your girlfriend that you adored with all your heart.

Ellie hears them too, her eyes glancing up at them above your head. She chuckles softly, hand still caressing your cheek gently before she speaks. "Haven't heard those since the last time I saw you..." She hums out.

With that, it's as if your body moves itself for you, deciding your faith before you can, because you waste no time in leaning in and pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that can only be described as longing, having gone far too long without feeling the pair that they so desperately wanted pressed up against.

Ellie melts into you almost immediately, her other hand coming up to cup your cheek as she kisses you back passionately. Both of your hands come up to hold onto either of her wrists, keeping her close as you lean further into her, wanting more of the girl.

You need her more than air, easily letting her grip your thighs and tug you down to straddle her lap, your hands going up to tangle themselves in her soft hair. When she finally does break the kiss, her lips are on your neck, and your jaw, and your cheeks, and the corner of your mouth, eager to feel any part of you on her needy mouth as her hands roam your body eagerly.

"Missed you so fuckin' much...my dream girl" She moans out, making you whimper as you tug her hair back, angling her face back up towards yours before smashing your lips against hers.

"Let's....let's go inside...." You moan into her mouth, the kiss messy and sloppy as she nods eagerly before the request has even fully escaped your lips.

You waste no time crawling off her lap and tugging her inside, the two of you giggling and moaning as you stumble over your own feet in a dance of need and desperation, the both of you clearly in need of one another.

Ellie is tugging off her shirt as you two make your way through the door, helping you tug off your dress as she stumbles out of her jeans quickly after.

A pile of clothes leads the both of you to your bed, the girl laying you down and crawling over you, strong hands caressing your soft body, tugging at your bra and your panties, mouthing away at your newly exposed skin.

"You don't know how many times I've thought about this...thought about you like this" she admits, needy hands gripping at your waist, pulling you flush against her half naked body as she kisses up to your lips again, slowly pushing her tongue into your mouth as she groans against you, strong hands massaging your skin, kneading it between her fingers.

You moan into her, nodding eagerly as your hands tug her closer, wanting her as close to your body as possible.

"I have to..." you admit mindlessly.

You don't realize it then, but it's the first time that you've allowed yourself to admit that to someone, even to yourself. Those were secrets that you're buried down so deep into your mind, you weren't even sure they were true anymore.

Ellie was able to pull them out thought.

"Gonna...fuckin' worship you...like you deserve, baby.." she moans out, her lips pressing against your boobs that were spilling out of your bra, nipping and biting at your exposed skin.

But when she says that, it's like all the lights suddenly turned on.

It all comes weighing down on you in an instant, what happened, what you'd been through. Your wife had cheated on you with another woman, she promised you everything, the world at your feet if you asked for it, yet she still threw it all away as if none of it was real, as if none of it mattered.

Who's to say Ellie wouldn't do the same?

Your body goes limp beneath her, and Ellie catches onto it immediately, frowning gently as she pulls away to see her suspicions were confirmed.

"Baby? Hey...you with me angel?" She calls out as she watches you staring up at the ceiling, your eyes glossing over as if you weren't even there.

Because you weren't, you were back in your bedroom, in your apartment in the city, watching the woman you thought loved you back, fuck another woman into your mattress as if she were you.

You weren't ready for this.

"I...I can't do this.." You mumble out, voice cracking as your throat began swelling up from the tears pooling in your eyes.

Ellie is quick to sit up with you, tugging the blankets on your bed up so that you were able to shield your chest from the cold air that circled your room, her hand coming up to your back as she peered down at you, brushing your hair out of your face.

"Sweetheart, what is it? did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?" she urges, desperately trying her best to understand what happened, what caused the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

You feel sick to your stomach, shaking your head as the tears begin spilling out onto your cheeks, keeping the blanket tugged close to your chest as you brush Ellies hands away from your face.

"I can't...you need to leave...please leave!" you sob out, shaking your head as all the images of your ex wife come flooding in.

Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you push her away, shutting her out and putting those same walls up that she could feel even when you were miles and miles away from her in the city.

She knows she can't get through to you, not now at least. So she simply gets up off your bed, tugs on her t shirt and jeans, goes downstairs and walks out of your house, her heart breaking as she hears your sobs echoing through the house, following her as she left you there.

And as you laid there, crying in your bed once again, ugly images run through your mind,

it isn't the thought of your ex wife cheating on you, that hurts, but its merely a dull blade to your side now that you've felt Ellie again, those feelings coming back the second her lips were on yours.

No...it's the thought of Ellie doing those things. It's the thought of her promising you the world and still throwing it away, even after she put a pretty ring on your finger.

Because love is ruined for you now, and you aren't entirely sure you could trust anyone to give it to you again.

Even Ellie.

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

Note

I'm thinking about Megumi's sister, who went to magic school with him. who was trained by Gojo. who fell in love with Gojo. who dared to confess her feelings to him. and which Satoru rejected, saying that he was too old for her

it doesn't have to be something obscene… so if you like this idea, then please write something!

belong with me

- gojo satoru x reader

the strongest sorcerer is your savior. you know he is far from your reach... but is it so wrong to love him—after the years you spent by his side?

genre/warnings: angst to fluff, a bit slow burn, age gap, one-sided pining, mentions of injury, comfort, teacher!gojo x student!reader

notes: omg omg i actually really like this idea!! i had wanted to write this since you sent this ask but i was struggling with the setting, so i tweaked minor things so that it’ll fit the canon timeline—reader is megumi’s cousin rather than sister.

and *sigh* it somehow turned out into a 4k+ word🤧

general masterlist

What is Gojo Satoru to you?

If asked that, Megumi would definitely say that he owed both of your lives and his sister’s to him. Following the chaos too complicated for you to understand that left the three of you orphaned at the age of six, Gojo Satoru, who were just barely an adult himself then, was the one who stepped in to take all of you in.

But to you, he was more than just that. He was many things. Your savior, mentor, friend, and... you daresay, first love.

And because of that, you would never thought that there’d come a time when your heart was really broken by him.

At first, Gojo Satoru felt like a big brother to you. Megumi was suspicious of him since the very beginning—his skepticism was funny sometimes—but you and Tsumiki weren’t as much.

He easily became your friend. You would laugh for hours to end after he cracked the stupidest or lamest of jokes. He made the fact that curses exist and that you were somehow able to keep them at bay more bearable.

And when Tsumiki fell into her curse… Gojo was there to bring you comfort.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” Your hands were shaking as you frantically poked and nudged your kind cousin from her peaceful slumber at the hospital bed. The smell was suffocating—the sight was unbearable. Tsumiki was supposed to be bouncing up and keeping both you and Megumi at bay, not lifelessly lying here like this.

Facing Gojo, who had a tight-lipped expression beside you, you pleaded, "Gojo-sensei—" your glassy eyes welled up, voice choked with tears, "—make her wake up, please..."

And that was the first time he broke your heart. Even the strongest couldn’t lift this cruel curse posed upon your kind sister.

Your throat tightened, choked with painful whimpers as tears flowed uncontrollably. Sudden grief overwhelmed you, making you sway and shake like a leaf. At first, you didn’t notice how a pair of warm hands enveloped you, drawing you close for comfort.

Gojo allowed you to cry against him while you pounded on his chest. Not a word came out of his lips, a telltale sign that he was taking the situation seriously—something you, above anyone else, understood well.

From then on—ever since the tragedy that befell Tsumiki, it seemed like Gojo became even more protective of you but stricter with Megumi. The two of you eventually pursued the path of jujutsu, driven by one wishful thinking in mind—the possibility to break Tsumiki’s curse.

Encountering Gojo became a daily routine when you lived at the dormitory as a first year at Jujutsu High. He frequently dropped by just to greet you, or give you some things he got from his missions.

"Here," Gojo handed you the package of a popular kikufuku store. With that blindfold on and a shit-eating grin split his face, he actually looked so ridiculous. "I got you all their available flavors! Trust me, you'll like them!"

Against your own will, you felt rosy blush spreading across your cheeks. "Oh, thank you... I'll give some to Megumi as well, he's been working hard lately..."

"Ehh?" he pursed his lips. "No, no, no—they're for you! Don't give them to that emo kid!"

There was absolutely nothing significant about how he worded it. You were well aware of that—only a fool wouldn't be.

So why are you so giddy? Hah, why do you feel like you're... special?

"Don't call him emo," you chided, trying to suppress your smile.

"But he is! He's always grouchy with me without reason!"

Throughout your childhood, and now as you were entering adulthood yourself, Gojo's presence in your life still felt like a comforting, warm blanket—a dependable presence you could rely on, someone you could trust completely.

And apparently, someone you had unwittingly given your heart to.

It was a gradual process. You didn't fall for him at first sight or anything of the sort—it took years of being under his protection. Even as you watched him pursue one girl after another from the sidelines, you couldn't deny it—your heart was already his since then.

He always knew what to say, how to cheer you up.

"What's got you so down, huh?" Gojo asked, tousling your hair gently as you slouched. "Is it because of earlier? Don't be so down, you're doing great."

You fidgeted with your fingers, feeling the sting of failure twisting your gut. "I held everyone back, sensei. That's not great at all."

In the last mission, you nearly put Yuji and Nobara's lives in danger. You had taken the initiative to step into the cursed room, and had it not been for Megumi who came to your rescue, any one of you could have sustained significantly more severe injuries.

Gojo offered you a lopsided smile. "You couldn't have known that. Don't beat yourself up so much. The most important thing is that all of you are safe."

"But we might not, all because of my daring ass."

"Look."

He squatted to meet your eye level, and it dawned on you that he wasn't wearing that blindfold. "The fact is that everyone is good. And no, even if Megumi wasn't there, you wouldn't have been doomed. I would have been there, I always have, yeah?"

He was truly a sight, with that sparkling eyes even more so when he smiled unabashedly, voice not as playful as his tone usually was.

"That doesn't make me feel better," you replied, forcing out the words even as you were somewhat awestruck. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm inadequate."

"You're a first year," Gojo pointed out. "Everyone is bound to make mistakes. You just have to learn from them."

"In our line of work, those mistakes can cost us lives." You chewed your lip, looking down. "I—I don't want to be responsible for someone's death."

Your words left Gojo momentarily speechless. His blue eyes blinked several times as though he was taken aback, and you felt even more small—you had just revealed your deepest fear to him.

But suddenly, he laughed right in your face, prompting you to shoot him a glare. Just as you were about to retort, he rested his palm on your head.

"Do you seriously think I will allow that to happen?" Gojo queried with a wide grin and snarky tone. "To you, out of everyone else?"

You gazed at him in a daze, feeling self-conscious with his warm hand on your head. He'd likely done this a hundred times already, but you could never get past the sensation of his gentle touch on your skin. You yearned for more—for him to cradle your face, to caress you, to draw you closer—

“The obvious answer is, I won't,” he declared so surely, exuding unwavering confidence. You blinked, marveling at how his words made your heart soar and your breath catch. “So stop thinking about scary things. I'm here, remember?”

How was there a person who was such a perfect blend of the man of your dreams—smug, but also funny, caring and strong, like Gojo Satoru was?

Was it a sin to harbor these feelings for him? He has always been kind to you, and if you daresay it, fond of you as well. Is there a possibility—

Really, you should have known your boundaries.

"I think..."

And yet your heart screamed, for whatever it's worth—

"...I love you..."

Why couldn't you see that this was doomed right from the start?

"—Gojo-sensei."

You were breathless. Your wildly thumping heart drowned out almost everything else. Your hands were sweaty, and you braved yourself to meet his eyes.

And when you did, you knew heartbreak for the second time—

The way his smile faltered a bit, yet he forced it upwards, perhaps to spare your feelings.

Just as he always has. Ever since he rescued you back then, he would do these silly things so you would feel better.

"I'm flattered, you know?" Gojo gazed at you genially. "But I think—"

"You don't understand." What am I even insisting? "I... like you so much, Gojo-sensei. All this time."

It was supposed to be your final card. Baring everything to him. How grateful you were that he took you in, the kindness he showed you, Megumi and Tsumiki, those sleepless nights after Tsumiki fell into coma that he spent with you, sharing shaved ice on the hottest, cruelest summer...

"You're almost half my age," he stated matter-of-factly, and a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. "You're mistaking love for admiration. That's it."

"No! I know how I feel—"

"You should find someone your age," Gojo added while maintaining his smile. "There are good guys out there. Toge is nice—ah, but his cursed technique might be a little troublesome. Yuji is earnest and honest..."

You have never thought that there’d come a time where your heart was really broken by him. But he just did, as he listed all your friends without any regard to your feelings.

Suddenly, a wave of resentment surged within you, prompting you to hiss and cut him off.

"You're always like this," your eyes had started to well up with tears, but you ignored it. His puzzled expression only fueled your frustration.

"I hate how you constantly treat me like a child!"

You felt ashamed, but in hindsight you should've probably expected this. You didn't have anyone else to blame but yourself. You knew it wasn't fair to lay the blame on Gojo like now—he was merely on the receiving end of the brunt of your heartbreak.

You hated this. You hated yourself. And you couldn't help but to hate him too, despite knowing that you shouldn't.

With that, you dashed away, tucking away your first love to the furthermost part of your heart, swearing that you'd never, ever revisit that chapter of your life again.

Ain't that just the worst thing to hear?

Witnessing your tear-streaked face as you hurried past him left him stunned, rooted in place.

In no way was Gojo Satoru going to romance his own student. You were quite literally his protege and his other protege’s sister. That was simply out of the question. Not that he was the model of propriety, but even he knew that was not right.

And it didn’t have anything to do with the fact whether he did see you as a woman or not, because even if he did, it shouldn’t make a difference.

Right? It won’t change anything.

Because it was how it was supposed to be.

It was probably one of the forms of tantrum—or whatever it was labeled—in the end, it was simply a reaction to not achieving what you wanted.

For years, Gojo had shielded you and Megumi from the Zen’in clan. They were horrible people, and you were eternally grateful that Gojo went to great lengths for you, always swatting them away before they could get close to either of you.

Now that you thought about it, who they really wanted was Megumi. Your cousin held the quintessential Zen'in talent, while your modest Projection Sorcery wasn't particularly rare among the clan. Still, they sought you as well, merely to bolster their prestige with another member.

Normally, you wouldn't think such things. But you weren't in the best state of mind, muddled by your blind heartbreak. It skewed your mindset to one of the extremes.

And then you got this terrifyingly brilliant idea—what if you turned yourself to them? Surely the Zen’in would be sated for a while and stop bugging Megumi.

And you didn’t have to see Gojo as often too.

This went against everything he had done to ensure your safety. But that was the first thing that entered your mind when Zen’in Naoya accosted you by chance.

"We're family," he stated with a smirk, sending a shiver down your spine, an unsettling feeling washing over you. "We wouldn't harm you. Why waste your time being Gojo's little errand girl, huh?"

This was easier, or at least that was the illusion you attempted to persuade yourself with.

Naoya left with you with a meaningful "Think about it."

And the more you thought about it, the more you leaned towards the scenario you had thought to be unimaginable before—leaving Gojo behind.

Two months had passed since then, and it was time for the Kyoto Goodwill Exchange event. Gojo remembered this being one of the most exciting moments during his youth, and he sincerely wished that you would have fun too, even with all that had been going on between you.

He knew he was the one who said Yuji would be good. But he wanted to backtrack when he saw him getting punched by Todo. Nah, Yuji was too stupid, he wouldn’t want that for your match. Must be someone else… who was stronger, better.

And then he was even more beside himself when he saw you with Mechamaru.

Like really? That tin soldier? You could definitely have someone more human. He surely didn’t approve of the sight of you getting friendly with that suspicious scrap of metal!

"Hah," he grumbled to himself. Was it just him or were young boys these days simply too subpar?

Yuji is too risky, after all, he is also Sukuna's vessel. Todo... no way, he can crush you with one hand... Panda is a panda...

As if the roster wasn't bad enough, he was met with the most bewildering sight.

Never would have Gojo thought that someway or another, he would see you with that obnoxious Zen'in spawn who called himself the heir.

Before he could grasp his actions, he stomped right into the midst of where the two of you were—

. . .

You were a step away from agreeing to a whole load of new mess, until wind got knocked out of your lungs as you were harshly yanked from behind—

—and the next thing you knew, a broad back was in front of you.

“What do you want?” a low voice, almost foreign to your ears. But this man before you was Gojo Satoru himself, just way sterner than he usually was.

You were caught off guard by his tight grip on your wrist, his dark gaze fixed on the Naoya.

“Ah, don't be like that, please.” Naoya dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I'm just saying that it's been too long already for you to play the benefactor. She ought to be with the family, where she rightfully belongs."

Gojo seemed to grow more imposing, his sneer deepening. "And by family you mean you?"

The atmosphere grew tense as the exchange between them continued, each word laden with underlying tension.

"Hah, Gojo-sama, you really think you're so high and mighty, don't you? I'll have you know that she, and by extension, the Fushiguro boy, are Zen'ins. No matter how—"

Naoya's words seemed to falter as Gojo's presence intensified. There was this thick electricity in the air, and you almost shuddered when he spat, "Leave."

He couldn't possibly murder another great clan's heir, no matter how much he might have been able to. It would incite a strife that would make his eyes hurt. He just had to scare him off.

And he did. Naoya went with his tail tucked behind him, and that was one problem taken care of. Now Gojo just had one other thing to deal with—

"What were you thinking?" he asked, his tone sharp and accusing, before he even properly faced you. "Since when did you start meeting up with him?"

You hadn’t talked to him ever since your botched confession, but with the way it seemed, he was acting quite normal. It irked you.

"That's hardly your business," you retorted with a hiss.

Your responses seemed to grate him. "Oh? What do you mean it's not?"

"He is right, isn't he? I'm a Zen'in. There is no need for you to go out of your way to keep me under your wing. I can always go back to them."

"Are you—" His frustration was evident and it was quite possibly the first time you saw him direct this at you. "You can't go to them—"

"Sure," you mocked, wrenching your wrist away from his grasp. "I'm telling you, I'm not a child, Gojo-sensei. Please stop telling me what should and I should not do."

"That's not what I'm getting at. I've told you how horrible that place is, your place definitely isn't there."

"And? Where should I be?" you huffed challengingly. "Please, don't tell me that it's your cue to say that it's by your side. Because both of us know it's not."

Gojo didn't know what frustrated him more, the fact that you somehow fell into whatever it was that Naoya had whispered to your ear or how bratty you were being right now. Unwittingly, he let his own pettiness slip out, "You know what? You're being quite childish right now."

He convinced himself that, having practically raised you, he was entitled to have a say in major decisions in your life. He wouldn't let the Zen'in take Megumi away, let alone you.

Your face went scarlet with repressed anger. "So be it then."

With that, you stalked away, and just like how you went away from him the first time, Gojo could only stare at you in silence.

How had your relationship with him turned this sour? Was it the wrong thing to not acknowledge your confession before? He sincerely thought you would realize the implications behind your own words and snap out of that ideal version of him you had in mind—because he knew best that he wasn’t made for this.

Girls your age must want a taste of young love. He understood that, but it couldn’t be with him. It had to be someone else.

He resumed his musings earlier before he found you out with Naoya. And he finally came to a conclusion, that Yuta was the best match. Shame he was still away somewhere in Africa.

When Yuta got back, he would introduce him to you. Yuta was strong, kind, and he wouldn’t hurt you. And it would do him good too to have someone who cares about him.

Gojo Satoru never made flawed judgements. He knew this was the best approach, and yet why was there still this stifling feeling in his gut… at the idea of you being with someone—god forbid—who isn't him?

Not long after, a sinking feeling gnawed at him at the chaotic mess surrounding the Kyoto Goodwill event.

At first Gojo thought it was the standard worry. He chalked it up to all of his students were trapped inside this curtain that specifically forbid him to enter. Naturally, he would worry for his students; after all, he was their teacher.

But when he saw you fell on your knees with what seemed like a stem of cursed flower perched on your chest, he knew it was something else.

You were gasping for breath, clutching your chest in pain while Panda supported your weakened form, and seeing you like that apparently was too much for him. For the first time, Gojo regretted his decision. He shouldn't have pursued the enemy first. He should have gone to you first.

His instinct took over as he swiftly tore you away from Panda’s arms, drawing you close to his chest. His mind went blank, but he forced himself to focus on you, on what was causing you pain. "Y/N, calm down—"

"It hurts—!" you whimpered, digging your nails into his arm tightly, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts so much... I-I..."

For Gojo, this was a form of torture he hadn't realized before. For him, seeing you smile should have been the default, not this sobbing, injured, vulnerable state you were in now.

"I'll take you to Shoko. You'll be fine," he murmured decisively into your ear as you slumped against him. His grip around you tightened, and he repeated, "You'll be fine, I promise."

In the midst of your foggy mind, a realization struck—this was the second time you were ever held in his arms. And much like the first time, you felt an overwhelming sense of security.

Ah, but he had rejected you. You should know your place. You really should because pining on someone who didn't want you wasn't a wise thing to do.

But just this once...

Stupid. You were stupid indeed.

Because you chose to bask in this very short fantasy, fervently wishing that the heavens would grant you this sweet dream of him holding you in his arms like just this for a little longer.

As Gojo quietly observed you resting after being tended by Shoko, numerous thoughts swirled through his mind.

"I hate how you constantly treat me like a child!"

That was not true. He didn't mean to treat you like a child, because you were indeed not. You were a grown woman now, no longer the crying child consoled by Tsumiki and protected by Megumi as you were back then.

Once, you were this young bud he was meant to nurture into strength, but now despite himself, he saw you more as a woman rather than his protege. He wanted to see you bloom into this pretty girl he had always known you were, always innocent and protected—and a selfish part of himself would add: preferably by himself.

You were so serene. You looked so soft too as you laid there. Gojo thought this wasn't quite right and he couldn't quite get the image of you screaming in pain out of his peripheral thoughts.

Had he truly fallen? This strong urge to protect you, ensure your happiness, see you always smiling—it was as if these emotions were suddenly planted, but immediately establishing themselves like deep-rooted feelings that wouldn't fade away easily.

No, actually... who was he kidding? It was what he had kept to himself for a while now. He just refused to acknowledge these feelings out of the misguided sense of propriety.

It was all he could think of from the moment you passed out until you awakened. He pasted a smile on his face when you opened your eyes to his face.

"Ah, Gojo-sensei..." you mumbled, still disoriented. The way you looked at him was as if you were spooked, to say the least, and it bugged him. "Sorry, how long have I passed out?"

"Just a few hours. Are you okay? Do you still feel the pain?"

"Uh... a bit, but I'm okay..."

Normally, he never seemed to run out of things to talk about with you. This was too obvious. You were uncomfortable with him, and he noticed it.

You also seemed acutely aware of this immensely awkward situation. Having spent the majority of your life with him, you used to be open and at ease around him. But now, it wasn't the same. All because of your reckless confession before.

You spent the first few hours with occasional silence. Eventually, Gojo stepped away for a while, leaving behind a lingering sense of discomfort instilled within you.

You remembered the feeling of being in his arms. Once again, he saved you. The least you could do is to express your gratitude.

I don’t like this. It had been two months already. You had to put an end to this unbearable tension. You couldn't force him to return your feelings—you understood that now. And to make it to the way it used to be, you had to make it clear to Gojo too.

And so when he was back to your room, you braved yourself again. For the second and last time.

"Gojo-sensei," you breathed out, willing your shaky hands at bay. "I'm sorry to make you uncomfortable. Please forget what I said before."

What is this now? Gojo blinked, stopping right in his tracks, somehow hearing how you started with a "sorry" didn't sit well with him.

You continued. "Maybe you are right. I'm grateful for you, I look up to you... for the longest time, I might even have idolized you."

Wait...

"But it isn't love," you said with finality, looking away. "This is me admiring you, for all things you have done for me. And even if it is, I still can't force you to look at me in that way."

Gojo could only gaze at you in silence, a storm raging inside his chest. This was what he had hoped you would realize when you confessed your feelings back then, but now—

"I don't like how... we are now," you gulped. "And it's my fault. So I'm taking it back—"

“No, just—” This wasn’t right. Gojo knows it, but why is he saying this? “Just wait for a minute.”

You started as someone he wanted to protect, along with Megumi and Tsumiki. And then you grew up right in front of his eyes. Someone like you, who had gone through many horrors in life ever since young should have someone dependable and strong who could make you happy.

But then Gojo thought, he didn’t like how others looked at you. Heck, in his eyes, they were inadequate for you, if anything.

“Sensei?” you looked up to him with that doe eyes of yours, and Gojo Satoru felt like this was enough.

To hell with you finding someone your age.

He was strong—the strongest, and if it’s him, he most definitely could protect you far better than anyone.

He could make you laugh—had been for years already, and nothing would stop him now.

He would be damned should you somehow go to the grubby hands of the Zen’in.

“Keep your eyes on me,” his somber voice said then, causing your heart to skip a beat in response.

In short, he was better-suited for you more than anyone else ever could, in every possible aspect.

Apparently he was right. Your place was by his side, after all.

“…because from now, I might start looking at you too.”

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