#watched it for the first time recently and had to go lie down after he said this then proceeded to play Jesus Was An Only Son lmao
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cursedbanalities ¡ 2 days ago
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[[Figured I'd give it a go here!]]
My shoes were wet by the time I got to the manor, as were my pants and most of my belongings. Of course, the one time I didn't bring an umbrella was the time the sky decided to open up and pour all over me. Thankfully, I was able to take shelter on the mansion's deck, huddling under the roof. Despite the creepy and slightly worn-down look, it seemed the family was a fan of the macabre and kept their grounds well-maintained. There was a large graveyard in the distance, something that I had never seen on someone's property before, as well as several gargoyles and wrought-iron fences. Despite how soggy and cold I felt, I couldn't help but wonder what the townsfolk were going on about! These people probably just liked to embrace all things creepy and crawly.
I wiped the rain from my face, and noticed mascara stained my hands black. Great, I look like a friggin' raccoon now! I thought, desperately trying to find napkins somewhere in my purse. The door creaked open as I was wiping the mascara off of my face with a Taco Bell napkin, and I saw an extremely tall man with a square face standing in the doorway. He had to hunch over in order to properly see me, and was dressed in a full suit.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" I said in a hurry, stuffing my wet, soiled napkin back into my purse. I quickly motioned to the storm outside. "The, uhm... the rain slowed me down. I don't have a car, unfortunately. Um... I'm here about the ad?"
The tall man smiled. Lighting struck and thunder cracked as he did so, adding an uncomfortable amount of drama. He turned and began walking away, leaving the door open. At first, I thought he was going to close it in my face, but a moment went by before I realized he meant for me to follow him. I quickly ran inside, the mansion was colder than I had hoped, and carefully shut the door behind me.
I followed the tall man through the manor. The walls were covered with various pictures. Old family members in black and white look sternly ahead, though I could swear I saw their eyes following me as I walked by. A painting hangs over an unlit fireplace depicting a witch burning at the stake, which only furthered the unsettling atmosphere I found myself in. There were a couple of more recent ones as well, depicting a young girl in black, and a pudgy boy with short, black hair. Must be their kids, I thought.
Not long after, I found myself in a conservatory. Gnarled plants on tables line the large windows. A tall, slender woman in a clinging black dress stands in the middle, trimming a black rose bush. She noticed us enter, and she gave a slight smile.
"Ah, a guest. Thank you, Lurch." She said, coolly. The man gave a stiff bow, and left without a word. The woman in black locked eyes with me. "So, what brings you here on this fine afternoon? Were you responding to the ad?"
"Ah, yes ma'am! My name is Sherry. I'd normally agree with you, but the one time I didn't want rain was the day it happened!" She gave a weak laugh, but the woman didn't break her gaze. It was paralyzing, but I cleared my throat. "Anywho... I'm new in town, and I was looking for some extra cash. Times are tough, and when I saw the ad I figured... you know, I like kids! I figured I could watch over your little rascals while you're out and about!"
The woman's scarlet lips split into a smile. "Aahh, I'm happy to hear it! We've had that flier out for a while. I'll be honest, I was about to give up hope of ever finding a babysitter!"
"Y-yes, well... The locals didn't seem to fond of you guys, I'm not going to lie. They warned me about how "creepy" and "kooky" you guys are, but I figured they were just... I don't know... judging a book by its cover? I don't mind the creepy crawlies too much, so I think we'll get along just fine, eh?"
The woman seemed to glide across the ground as she came to shake my hand. "Morticia Addams is the name. Welcome to our terrifyingly humble abode." She motioned around her with her hands, "I'm glad you don't carry the same... prejudices some others have. I won't lie, though. You're not the first to come about the ad. Our kids... well, sometimes their creativity can get to be too much for our babysitters. We haven't been able to get them to stay more than one night! Heck, we've had a couple of people run off before we could pay them!" She let out a hearty cackle, and I weakly joined in with her.
"Haha, yeah, I'd at least have stayed for the money! At least, if it's as bad as you're saying..."
"Oh, nonsense! You're different from the others. Trust me, darling." She gives me a grin, "Besides, we always pay fairly. Even if it's not to your standards the cash will stay the same, if you'd like to get mercenary about it."
"Well, in that case... would you mind telling me how much I'll be paid?" I said meekly, afraid I'd seem ungrateful if I spoke about money too much. With a grin, Morticia led me back into the manor and to an office. She began pulling some lockboxes out with an old key. My mind wandered as she went through the boxes, and I began wondering if this job was right for me. Maybe I'm in over my head. The children's "creativity" seemed ominous, but there's no way that it's that bad, right? The entire town just hates the Addams Family. Maybe I should just make her way back out of the house, just to save my skin!
Though, once Morticia threw a heavy bag on the table, filled with coins and gems, I quickly changed my demeanor. "So..." I began, "When will I get started?"
[[This was fun! Maybe I'll continue this, if I get inspiration. It's a bit of a departure from what I usually do, after all!]]
You, new in town and strapped for cash, see an ad in the paper; apparently, a "Gomez and Morticia Addams" are in need of a babysitter to watch their two children during a business trip. Despite the VERY high pay, no one has pursued it. Ignoring warnings from the locals, you sign up.
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zeroaddzero ¡ 1 year ago
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Bruce Springsteen on parenthood, from VH1 Storytellers [X]
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paarksunghoon ¡ 27 days ago
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what about childhood best friend hoon who has always seen you as the sweet and innocent kind until he accidentally stumbles upon your dirty mind and fantasies
this just did something to me
***
“What the fuck?!”
“Sunghoon!” your cheeks and neck feel like they’ve been set on fire. You mumble a quick apology and goodbye into your phone and end the call. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”
“Your mom said you’d be home and I just got back into town.” He looks at you, frowning.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Sunghoon steps through the threshold of your bedroom wearing a black muscle tank and sweatpants. It’s a bit unfair how beautiful your best friend is with perfect biceps and an abdomen that can be seen through the fabric of his tank top. Sunghoon doesn’t have to try that hard and people will still fawn over him.
He looks at you like he’s seen a ghost. You see his duffle bag still in his hand but his grip seems to loosen the longer he looks at you. Sunghoon gulps and hesitantly takes a step inside of your room.
“You…I overheard you talking.”
“Why did you talk to my mom before coming come?” You ask, deflecting Sunghoon’s words in an attempt to pretend he heard nothing. “Did you drive home from school? Why is my apartment the first place you go to instead of your parents’ house?”
“Y/N.” Sunghoon’s throat feels a little too dry.
“You’re awful for not texting me before coming over.” He watches you turn around and put your phone on your table. “Anyway, how was your drive?”
Sunghoon drops his duffle bag. “I thought you were a virgin.”
You sputter. “A-A virgin? Why in the world would you think that?”
A part of you already knows this answer. Unlike you, Sunghoon’s not afraid to talk to you about his sex life and started hooking up with girls the second he left for college. He told you he lost his virginity the second he got home and updates you every so often about his sexual escapades, though not in great detail. He doesn’t press on about your sex and you don’t make it a point to bring it up because you aren’t as shameless as him.
The two of you don’t really have the dynamic where talking about sex is on the table. Or rather, he’s more open to the idea and doesn’t pry any information out of you because you’d shot him down when he asked about your virginity before you had sex for the first time. Sunghoon, for the fear of making you uncomfortable and losing his best friend, kept his mouth shut and generally always thought of you as a pretty innocent person.
You get a bit warm in the face when a sex scene in a movie comes on or whenever he plays songs that have sexual undertones to them in his car. Sunghoon has always thought you were a bit on the innocent side and figures the farthest you’ve ever gone was kissing Lee Heeseung in the eleventh grade.
But right now, his perception of you is distorted. Upon coming over after your mother told him where the spare key was, Sunghoon stood outside hoping to surprise you when he overhead you talking to your friend about a recent hookup.
“No amount of porn or book smut could really describe the feeling of a guy cumming inside of you. I had to practically beg him to take the condom off because he was worried it would be risky. But I’m on the pill so he agreed and fuck, it felt so good.”
He stands there, dumbfounded by the revaluation but can’t stop picturing you with your legs spread open for him on the bed next to you like he has for the past few weeks. Sunghoon’s face is red, no doubt.
“You’re looking at me funny.”
He whips his head to look at you. “I’m not acting funny. You’re acting funny.” Sunghoon watches you scoff and get up from your desk.
“I don’t know why you’re surprised that I fuck, Hoon.”
He sputters. “I don’t think about it.” That’s a lie.
“You don’t have to.” You shrug it off like it’s no big deal. “Do you use condoms?” Sunghoon chokes.
“No.”
Your wicked grin makes his cock jump.
“Me either.”
***
comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx
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saetoru ¡ 1 year ago
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)
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synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too
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— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)
— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)
— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333
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the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 
you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 
and then satoru wins. 
you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 
whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 
and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 
for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.
it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 
he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 
“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 
“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”
“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”
“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 
it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 
it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.
you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 
you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 
“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”
“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”
“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”
“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”
your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 
“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 
suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 
you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 
“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 
“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.
“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”
you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 
but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 
you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.
“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”
“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”
“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”
“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.
“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 
i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.
“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.
he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”
it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 
————————————————
even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 
the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 
you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 
“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 
as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 
except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 
it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 
“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 
and then you remember. 
faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 
it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 
but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 
“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 
“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.
“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”
it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 
“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 
“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”
you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 
when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 
————————————————
“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 
“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 
it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 
but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 
“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.
“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”
“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”
“tell him to go fuck off.”
“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”
“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 
you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 
he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 
you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 
but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 
so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”
“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 
“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.
he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 
“let’s go,” you hum.
“after you,” he mutters.
—
he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 
suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  
it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.
as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 
“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”
he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 
for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 
“what are you—”
“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 
“what?”
“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”
“i’m not a teenager anymore—”
“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”
“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 
“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”
so you do. 
with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.
“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”
“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.
“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”
“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 
“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”
suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 
suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 
something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  
but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 
“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”
“me too,” he says quietly.
“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”
home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.
“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”
“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 
his breath hitches. 
she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 
there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 
perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 
because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.
suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 
“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 
he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.
but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 
but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 
“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 
every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 
“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”
“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”
suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.
“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”
“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 
but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.
————————————————
satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 
you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 
but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 
satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 
it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?
well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 
it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).
it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 
and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 
it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 
geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 
so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 
it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.
and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.
“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.
“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”
“about…?”
“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”
“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”
“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”
“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”
“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”
“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”
“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”
“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”
“what?” you blink.
“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”
“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”
“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 
but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 
good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 
and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 
ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 
he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 
“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”
“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”
“how lucky of you,” you snort. 
—
picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 
so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 
“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”
“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”
“of all movies—”
“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”
“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”
“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”
all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 
“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.
“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”
“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.
“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”
“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 
suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 
you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 
“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”
suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 
“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”
you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.
it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.
“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 
in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.
it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.
————————————————
suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 
“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”
“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”
“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 
“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”
“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.
“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”
“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”
“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 
sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 
“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”
“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”
despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 
suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.
“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”
there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 
suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 
he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.
“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 
“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”
“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”
“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”
“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”
“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 
it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.
deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.
it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 
it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 
you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 
it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 
“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.
“do what?”
“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”
“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”
“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.
“like what?” he raises a brow. 
“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 
he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.
“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”
you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.
of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 
you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 
“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”
“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.
fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 
“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”
“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”
never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?
“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”
“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”
“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”
“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”
“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”
“i know—”
“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 
“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”
“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.
“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 
being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 
“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.
“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”
you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.
“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.
he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 
“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.
“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 
“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 
it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”
“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”
“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 
“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”
“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”
“yeah,” you breathe.
he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 
you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 
finally, for once, you’re enough. 
“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”
“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”
“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”
“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.
he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 
maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 
in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.
“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 
“because i need you here. will you stay?”
“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”
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hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3
also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok
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verstappen-cult ¡ 4 months ago
Note
i recently found out max has a nipple piercing. would be over the moon to see this included into a fic?? 🤭🤭
oh nonnie, i’ve been having dreams about this ever since i saw those pictures & i had to zoom in like a crazy woman – totally not proud of it. but like i cannot stop thinking about this exact same scenario 🙂‍↔️🤌🏼 and i’ll not be judged! i know you have all been thinking the same thing.
content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. a little bit of sub!max. nipple piercings. cumming in pants.
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Max as a tight grip on your waist as you press kisses on his neck, knees pressing against his hips as you settle comfortably on his lap.
This is the first time you’re being physically intimate. Well, apart from a few shared kisses at the end of the three dates you’ve had since meeting outside of the grocery store; after Max bumped into you.
Max invited you to his apartment for a cozy night, he cooked for you and introduced you to his cats.
You had settle on the sofa, even sharing a blanket, to watch a movie but halfway through it you’d already climbed onto his lap. Movie long forgotten now.
Max sighs into the cold night air, his calloused hands sending shivers down your spine.
You place your hands on his chest to make him lean against the cushions of the couch when you hear it more than feel it: Max’s sharp intake of breath as your palms make contact with something hard and round across his nipples. You know what it is even before your brain has time to catch up with it.
Pulling away you look straight into the blue pool of his eyes. He’s blushing but you don’t know if it is due to your passionate make out session or because you found out he has nipple piercings.
Neither of you says anything, eye contact so intense it sends a heat wave directly to your core. You decide to test the waters, so you swipe your thumb over his left nipple, feeling the piercing against the pad of your fingers. Max gasps your name.
“So, when were you going to tell me about this?” You ask with a raised brow, still caressing his pierced nipple over his white shirt.
Max blinks twice, like trying to process what is going on, before tilting his head back and whispering, “I was going to get rid of them.”
“But why,” You look down and it’s almost funny how you didn’t notice them all night. They’re right there making fun of you. “I think they’re hot.”
He huffs, closing his eyes. He’s shy, you think.
“I want to hear the story behind this.” You pinch his right nipple, not wanting to make it feel left out and Max sees stars behind his eyes, a moan escaping his pink lips. “But now I want to…” When you don’t finish talking, Max forces himself to open his eyes. There is a hunger in your eyes that makes him realise that he would let you do anything, anything, if you ask him.
“What do you want?” He wants you to finish your thought, he needs it.
“I want to feel them in my mouth.”
You’re pouting. It feels as if you’re begging him to let you, but Max doesn’t need convincing. The image of you looking up at him with his pierced nipple in your mouth flashes through his mind, and his cock twitches in interest.
He gets rid of the shirt in record time.
“Lie back, please.” He does, back pressing against the soft cushions. You don’t break the eye contact, not as you kiss your way down his chest until you’re level with the pebbled flesh. A threaded barbell decorating both of his nipples.
Max follows your every move holding his breath.
The first run of your tongue over his nipple comes as a shock, even when he was waiting for it. His whole body thrums with pleasure when you take it between your teeth, a sound akin to a whimper echoing through the room.
“You’re very sensitive.” You save that knowledge in the back of your mind. He looks at you with furrowed brows when you raise your thumb to his face. “Open your mouth.” And he does it immediately, allowing you access. You don’t waste a moment in stuffing his mouth with it. And Max sucks and runs his tongue over it, the blue of his eyes swallowed by black and pure pleasure. “Good.” You purr, guiding your thumb and swiping over his other nipple. He shudders, arching his back when you pinch it.
You go back to sucking his nipple into your mouth, feeling the metallic taste of the piercing and how nice it feels against your tongue.
Max lets out a sharp gasp, his hips thrusting up into nothing. You continue to kiss and suck, alternating between them and marvelling at his reactions, his obscene moans and whimpers.
He’s spilling in his pants before he even has time to warn you. And you find it is the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced in your life.
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do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | Š verstappen-cult, 2024.
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kemistre ¡ 1 year ago
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εïз┊𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 — feat. sano 'manjiro' mikey, ryuguji 'draken' ken, mitsuya takashi, baji keisuke, matsuno chifuyu, hanagaki takemichi, kisaki tetta
synopsis. how the the toman boys react when you fall asleep on them
— content warnings. draken picks up the reader, slight spoilers?, kisaki — word count. 1, 185
εïз┊author's note. hehe i haven't read/watched tokrev in so long!!! i kinda miss all these boys i'm not going to lie! chifuyu and draken are still my favs <//3
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εïз┊s. manjiro
he was sitting on the couch, relaxing with takemichi, draken, and you, along with a few other of takemichi’s buddies who were playing some sort of card game on the floor. you sat next to mikey, the exhaustion of your day finally settling in. the dark bags under your eyes grew more prominent as you leaned to the side, your head hitting a certain someone’s shoulder. his eyes were immediately on you, scanning over your tired figure, searching for anything that could be wrong. but once he’d concluded there was nothing wrong with you except how tired you were, he shoved you off his shoulder, making you open your eyes that had just closed moments before. everyone in the room was shocked, especially draken who looked like he was oh so close to punching his best friend. though he’d calmed down when mikey decided to lay on your lap instead, instantly falling into his own slumber as you rolled your eyes, laying your head against the arm rest of the couch falling asleep with your boyfriend in your arms.
εïз┊r. ken
he sat in front of the meeting place of toman, glancing around, remembering everything that had happened with the small, confined area. you were right next to him, sitting in silence and just reminiscing about the past. thinking about everything made your head spin, so much had happened at this tiny area, but it impacted every single person in toman greatly. you hadn’t noticed how much you had been swaying, moving around trying to keep yourself awake, but draken sure did. “hey,” hearing his voice after so much silence made you flinch, though you slowly locked eyes with him. “you alright?” you hummed, you voice hoarse with the exhaustion of your day. “m’ just fine, ken.” but no matter how many times you could’ve said it, he just did not believe you, and so, he stood upon his feet and leaned down, picking you up in his arms as he sighed. “you need sleep y/n.” he spoke, walking away from where you’d just been sitting for so long. he figured he’d take you to whoever’s house was closed, just to get you into a bed and resting as soon as possible.
εïз┊m. takashi
he leaned against his elbows that stretched behind him as he lay in the grass, you snuggling close to him for the warmth he radiated. the nighttime had been cold, the breeze making it that much worse as you lay under the moon, gazing up at the twinkling spots in the sky. this was truly the first time the two of you could relax together in so long, and it was nice, refreshing almost. he smiled, just knowing he was finally enjoying his alone time with you, and as he went to say something to you, he’d realized that your eyes were not only shut, but you were shivering. so, without another thought, he did his best to take his jacket off without you waking up, or being distrubed whatsoever. a gentle kiss was placed on your head as he finally got the jacket comfortably on you, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer than before. “sweet dreams my love.”
εïз┊b. keisuke
he let his head hang from where he sat on the recently rained out concrete, his hands behind him the only thing holding him up. he sighed, watching the grey clouds roll by, completely covering any blue that had once taken over the sky. it might’ve been that he had simply spaced out, not realizing you had approached him in any way. so, when you laid your head on his shoulder, he flinched, ready to fight. though, upon seeing it was you, he just froze, not knowing how to react. he had finally relaxed into you after you had taken his hand into your own, letting him know you were there, guiding him along as you’d always done. his tense shoulders had relaxed, giving you a much comfortable surface to rest your head upon. 
εïз┊m. chifuyu
he sighed, the long day he had hovering over his head as a rain cloud would on a rainy day. he was tired, exhausted if you will. he hadn’t felt like this in a long time, so tired and broken. his eyes seemed to lose their shine he had just recently gotten back, but now, as he sat near the gravestone as his former comrade, that emotionless looking boy he used to be grew on him once again. but he didn’t have the motivation to fix it, or change. at least, that was the case until you took a seat right by his side, leaning your head against his shoulder. his heart seemingly skipped a beat, his eyes widened in a state of shock from you and your presence alone. he felt at ease, though the bags under his eyes didn’t go away just that easily. he had decided, that maybe just one more time, he could get comfortable. comfortable enough to trust someone again, and that someone was you. he leaned into you as you wrapped your arms around him, his eyes glossing over and him hugging you tightly in return. “thank you..” was all he could mumble out without the tears flowing down his cheeks. 
εïз┊h. takemichi
he could only stutter when you laid your head on his chest, closing your eyes in the process. no words actually came out of his mouth either, just mouth movements of absolute shock and embarrassment. he was blushing, and blushing hard. his entire face was engulfed in a deep red, from his chin to the tips of his ears. “y-y/n..?” but by the time he even spoke a word, you were already fast asleep on his chest. the more he took the time to breathe, calm down a bit, he realized just how warm you were against him. maybe just in general, you were warm, sweet, kind in your own way. he smiled, his blush turning into one simply dusting his cheeks in pink as he positioned himself to get more comfortable on the couch where now the two of you laid.
εïз┊k. tetta
he stared intently at your approaching figure as you sat on the couch beside him, you weight immediately shifting onto his shoulder. he tsked, trying to shake you off. it got to a point where he was so close to just pushing you off of him, wanting to be left alone as soon as possible, but as his hand neared your face, he couldn’t help it when every movement in his body stopped, his eyebrows furrowing. his tenseness became relaxed as his hand lowered. he slowly brushed a strand of hair hanging down across your face to the side, letting him fully see your peaceful expression. for some reason, it made him wish he could, for once, have a night of peaceful sleep as you are now. he wanted to not have any worries, though he knew that was simply impossible. but for the time, it wouldn’t hurt anyone to let you stay as you were for just a few more minutes.
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taglist :: there's none at the moment but just send me a message to my inbox if you wanna be tagged :3
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angelsworks ¡ 1 year ago
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A Scarab Knows Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle) x reader
Summary: Times when the scarab on your boyfriends back caught you in a lie.
Warnings: Smut, angst, insecure!reader, talks of period, 18+
Moodboard credit goes to @your-yandere-kiss They’ve got so many other great moodboards. I’d definitely recommend you check them out if you like that sort of thing.
DC Masterlist
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It took a while to get used to the scarab. Khaji Da was not what you were expecting Jaime to reveal after a couple of months of dating. Your boyfriend was so nervous as he explained the ancient alien that held the power of the blue beetle that had bonded to his back. At first you had no response. Then you wanted to see it to which Jaime happily obliged.
Your eyes found the shiny blue shell of the beetle in line with Jamie’s shoulder blades. Call it morbid curiosity that lead you to reaching out and gently tracing part of the scarab. When red eyes opened and glowed along the scarabs elytra in response you jumped back in surprise. The action causing Jaime to jump up and away from you.
He didn’t say anything, instead staring almost blankly at something behind you. An action you’d found him doing throughout your relationship. Only now did you realise it was because of Khaji Da.
Finally he spoke, “I think it likes you.”
From then on things got better with Jamie. There were no secrets between the two of you anymore and you could continue your relationship in peace. Well almost in peace. The scarab on his back was to blame for that.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like Khaji Da, it’s just that it was almost like another person you had to share your boyfriend with. A person that was with him all the time. A person that he has secret talks with. A person that he fought crime with.
You weren’t jealous. Jaime was yours and Khaji Da had no interest in him like that. It was just hard getting used to being in a relationship with Jaime and now Khaji Da. After telling you about his scarab Jaime could talk to it more openly, without you thinking he was strange. Sometimes you’d be with Jaime watching a movie and he’d answer a question you hadn’t asked. Or other times you’d be looking for something you’d lost and he’d blurt out it’s location, claiming Khaji Da had told him.
Khaji Da wasn’t all bad, in fact it treated you kindly and as a valued person to Jaime. Over time it too became protective like Jaime towards you. A gesture you found sweet. Well mostly sweet.
One evening you saw the positives to the scarab on your boyfriends back.
The day you’d had was one for the history books. Anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. This morning you overslept for class meaning you had to rush out the door. In class you realised you left your paper you’d been working on at your home. After class you went to your job at a local restaurant. A job that on a good day would wear you down and drain your social skills. But on a bad day? It was unimaginable. To add to it you started your period mid shift, unprepared of course.
Finally at the end of the day you remembered the plans you had to stay over at your boyfriends apartment. Despite feeling anything but happy, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed your tears back as you greeted him. You hugged him tightly and kept up your facade. Engaging in small talk about your day and your class. Purposely leaving out or brushing over the majority of bad bits.
Jaime was buying the facade of course and you couldn’t blame him. The two of you hadn’t been dating for long and he hadn’t learnt you yet. However Khaji Da had, or to some extent it had.
A quick body scan had revealed your true feelings. Your low mood, recently working tear ducts and uterus walls cramping. All of which was relayed to Jaime whose face quickly took to looking crestfallen.
“Mi Vida, why would you lie to me?” Jaime asks softly. Pulling you from beside him on the couch to his lap.
You look at him startled. Unable to form words or even think of a coherent answer. But he waits for one. Even though it takes a few beats of silence.
“What - how do you know?” You ask him perplexed.
His tongue swipes out over his lips, “Khaji Da scans almost everyone I meet. It makes a habit of scanning you especially.”
You nod slowly, letting the new information sink in. You wonder just how much Khaji Da knows about you. You wonder how much information it passed on to Jaime each time you met. Was this the first time it caught you out in a lie, or just the first time Jaime chose to bring it up.
“I didn’t want to burden you with my bad day Jaime. You seemed so happy. I just wanted to enjoy being with you today.”
Jaime sighed and held you impossibly closer. Rubbing your back as you let out a few tears.
“Nothing you tell me would burden me. I love you so much Cielo.” Jaime whispers in your ear.
“Cielo?” You ask, unsure of the endearment.
“It means sky or heaven. That’s what you are to me. Nothing my Cielo tells me burdens me. You are my world, Mi Vida.”
Although Khaji Da’s interference worked out this time, it didn’t always. One time in particular didn’t end well with Jaime.
It was just past nine when your eyes glanced over to the clock on the bedside lamp. Jaime had been pounding into you for what felt like hours. He’d been out all evening doing something for Kord industries. The topic a sore one as you knew of the previous feelings he felt for Jenny.
You tried to put your feelings aside and remember that Jaime was with you now, not her. Your efforts hadn’t been good enough as Khaji Da and Jaime had seen right through it. Leaving him no choice but to show you just how much he loved you.
Yet the hurried passion between you hadn’t given you the stimulation you needed to reach your climax even once. There was little foreplay and things unraveled and quickly lead to him being deep inside you.
At one point you’d moved your fingers to your clit, trying to gain something to take you over the edge. Jaime, thinking you were acting up as you often did with him (in dynamic of course) removed your hand and pinned it with your other above your head. He gave you a gentle kiss and whispered some dirty words in your ear.
“Are you close?” He panted, still hammering into you. You thought about saying no, then wondered what he would think. You started to feel insecure in the fact that your orgasm was taking so long. So you decided to pretend.
It wasn’t something you’d ever had to do before but once wouldn’t hurt, would it?
You moaned out a reply and started your act. Rolling your eyes back into your skull, praising your partner for his work, clenching your walls on his cock. It wasn’t long before he followed you. Stilling inside you before reaching his own.
After pulling out slowly and kissing your temple he rolled over, having a moment before getting a wash cloth for you.
Silence hung in the air. Comfortable silence of course, but silence non the less. Jamie’s hand found yours, holding it gently as he often did.
Some time passed before his grip changed and became tighter. He turned on his side and looked at you accusingly.
“You faked it?” He asked, a little hurt but mostly angry.
Your eyes widened and you could feel your face heating up. “Jaime it’s not like that, you know I wouldn’t - ”
“But you did, or else Khaji Da wouldn’t have brought it up.”
You let out a huff, “Why does it matter. I’m sure it happens to plenty of couples all the time. I’m fine. Your fine. Let’s just go to bed.”
You move to roll over only to be pulled back by an angry Jaime. You’d never seen him this annoyed before about something you’d done. Usually you couldn’t put a foot wrong with him. He thought everything about you was great. It would be a lie to say his anger didn’t make you guilty about being dishonest.
“It matters because your my girlfriend. We aren’t just another couple. And while I’ve got working fingers, a working tongue and a working cock I have no excuse not to make you cum.” He tells you in earnest, putting his anger aside for a minute.
Although the sentiment is there, his wording isn’t. Jamie’s right, everything about him works. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to make you cum. It’s you that’s the problem and that same insecurity creeps back in once more. Making you doubt if there was something wrong with you. Making you remember why you lied in the first place. You didn’t want him to think less of you.
“So why Mi Vida, why lie to me? You know I love you.”
You huff again but this time it’s more pitiful as you feel your throat tightening. “It’s not you Jaime, it was me. It just wasn’t happening. I don’t know if I needed more foreplay or something. Maybe it’s just me, maybe there’s something wrong. Please let’s just go to sleep.” You practically beg. The warmth in your face ever increasing from the embarrassment you now feel.
As he understands your words he feels his anger dissipate. “There is nothing wrong with you Cielo, I should have done more before you know, going inside you. It was rushed. But you need to know that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I love making you cum.”
You smile, leaning over to kiss Jaime. Who responded eagerly almost trying to make up for lost time. Showing you that there was nothing wrong with you at all.
“Let me show you how much I love doing it Mi Vida.”
You could only nod as your boyfriend spent the rest of the night doing everything he could to make you cum.
By the time he’d done you’d finished a record number of times and had forgotten any ill will you’d felt towards Khaji Da. It turned out to be quite useful.
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angel5ofp0rn ¡ 6 months ago
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♡ part seven ♡
ExHusband!Price x f!reader
*still bad at writing smut. jus pretend i wrote something good… also im sorry!!!!
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You’re already awake when John's eyes finally begin to blink open, his first sight being the back of your head.
You’re fidgeting with his wedding band again, gently tracing your thumb over the engraving as you hold his left hand that’s slung over you.
"Mornin’..." He mumbles once he finally stops blinking, his eyes slowly coming into focus again as he realizes that you're awake. He sees you toying with his wedding band, which makes him smile as he watches.
“Hey there.” You smile, finally removing your hand from his.
You turn to lie on your back so you can see him better.
The regret of letting him stay after ruining your date had started to set in… but the memory of what the two of you did last night helped blur the lines.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask quietly. John’s eyes are studying your face with a lazy smile on his lips.
“God, y’r so beautiful.” John whispers, eyes locked on yours.
Your cheeks flush pink, though you have no idea why he still has that effect on you.
Your hands move to your face, covering your blushing cheeks with a laugh.
John laughs too, prying your hands away from your face. “Just lemme look at you, lovey. I can’t get enough.”
John manages to remove your hands and pin them above your head with one hand while his other hand cupped your face, turning you towards him. He presses kisses from your temple down to your jaw, then to your neck.
You squirm under him when his lips move back up and get close to yours; you turn your face away from him.
“Is something wrong..?”
“Morning breath.” You mumble. John chuckles, turning you back to your side and pulling you close by your hips.
“We can work aroun’ it.” He murmurs in your ear, his hardness pressing against your ass. You can’t help but to giggle when John starts to dry hump you like a horny teenager. It’s fun for you to see him like this recently; it’s like he’s been trying to make up for lost time.
Though your giggles quickly turn into a gasp when the head of his thick cock pushes your lips apart, slowly pushing in. John’s big arms are wrapped around you in a bear hug as he thrusts into your still sore cunt.
A strong hand grips your thigh, lifting your leg so he can get a better angle. A deeper fuck.
You can’t do much but moan and whimper as John takes what he wants— not that you’re not enjoying it.
“That’s right, lovey, that’s it-” John talks you through your climax, but not slowing down on your behalf. His grunts and your moans fill the room; your eyes roll back when John finally does come… You whine a bit when he begins to pull out, which makes him laugh softly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I miss you when you pull you.” You pout. “Can’t we just nap with it in?”
John snorts.
You look up at him when he finally sits up and stretches.
“Staying for breakfast..?”
John looks relieved when you ask him to stay.
“Making breakfast.” He grins before he leans down and finally steals a kiss despite your morning breath warning. “Lemme get the kids up.”
You watch as John stands up and pulls on a pair of joggers before heading out to the hall. He’s clearly comfortable being back in his old house.
Your eyes widen when you see the evidence of last night; red scratch marks over his back, bite marks on his shoulders.
You quickly pull on John’s boxers from the floor and a hoodie from the hamper, and follow after him with his t-shirt in hand.
John freezes for a moment as he feels your hands pull the shirt over his head. He looks back at you with a questioning look.
"What're you doing?" He says this with a confused look on his face as he raises an eyebrow.
"Marked you up pretty good." You blush, rubbing his back gently after his shirt is on. You give his butt a pat and heard towards your youngest’s bedroom.
“She still a grump in the mornings?” John asks.
“Not when her daddy’s home.” You shrug.
Home.
•••
“You’ve gotta let her go at some point.”
John looks up at you in the doorway from where he’s sat on your youngest’s toddler bed. It was practically a chair for him due to his stature.
“Right…” John looks back down to your youngest who, sleepy after her bath, is fast asleep in his lap. Her damp hair is combed out of her face and her cheek is pressed right up against John’s chest
“I just, eh… I’ve missed a lot of her life, haven’t I?”
“She’s still little.” You reassure him. “There’s still time.”
John stands up slowly and is gentle when laying her back on the little bed. He pulls the covers up to her chin and pressed a kiss to her head.
After John joined you in the doorway, he crosses his arms as he swallows back a small lump in his throat, thinking about the years that had passed and the time he lost with his kids and you.
Only seeing you two days a week just wasn’t enough.
You rub John's arm gently. He's normally not a very affectionate or emotional man, but he has a soft spot when it comes to his family.
John looks at you with watery eyes.
"You big softie." You tease, knowing he's really anything but.
"Alright." John rolls his eyes at you and grins as the two of you make your way back to the bedroom.
John sits at the edge of the bed and you sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You could tell the guilt was eating at John, for missing out on the kids first few years.
“You’re a great dad, John.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair. “You know that, right?”
John sighs.
“You are.” You smile softly, one arm now around his neck and the other hand on his chest. “I wouldn’t choose anyone else to have babies with.”
John chuckles at that. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm.” You nod. “I’d still have 98 more with you.”
John's eyes shift up to meet yours once you say that.
He raises an eyebrow at first as he takes a moment to process that... but then, he eventually laughs. "You’re crazy…" His smirk widens a bit, and he moves his thumb along your jawline now.
"What if we have another?" You practically whisper.
"You’re not serious…” John shakes his head slowly.
“I think it’d be wrong not to.” You fake a little pout. “Have you seen our babies? They’re gorgeous.”
“You want to keep having babies with me, is that it? More mini-me’s running around?”
“I do.” You nod, you face moving closer to his. You smile when your lips meet, just barely brushing against each other.
John smiles back. "Well, I'm not gonna deny you..." His grin widens a little now as he stands, you in his arms.
He tosses you gently onto the bed.
You grab the front of his shirt and pull him into you.
•••
After a few hours, the two of you had moved from the bed to the floor, the bathroom counter, and now you are in the kitchen having a water break.
The two of you, sweaty, out of breath, and exhausted, look at each other grinning ear to ear as you sip your waters.
You’re stood across from John with a robe on and your legs crossed, as a precaution.
John has just his boxers on as he finishes his water and looks at you, leaning back against the kitchen island.
"Feeling a little uncomfortable, love?" He says this as he notices the little way that you're standing, and then he gives a smirk.
"Forgot how messy it is." You confess with flushed cheeks.
John hums in acknowledgment and pulls you into his arms, kissing you softly; a nice change of pace.
He lets the kiss hold for a bit longer than a usual peck before finally letting go and gently squeezing your rear as he pulls away.
"You need anything from me right now lovey?" He asks with a soft look.
"I want you to move back in."
John pauses for a bit after you make this request. He stays quiet as he blinks, looking surprised as he hears this.
"Really?" He asks, wanting to make sure he heard you correctly.
Part of him thought that he'd have to beg for this.
"If you were serious about wanting us to do this again, then I want to do it for real. You're moving back in to our house, we're sleeping back in our bed, and we're being a family again."
“You mean that?” John asks cautiously.
You nod. “But I’m keeping our no fighting rule. You have to communicate with me, John.”
“Anything, love. I’ll do anything you ask.”
Your smile grows at how eager he is to get back together. “You’re stuck with me now, Johnathan Price.”
John just laughs, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you into a another kiss.
Your arms are draped around his neck when you’re set back on your feet.
“I’ve missed this.” You admit quietly.
“I’ve missed you.” John counters. His smile suddenly falters a bit when he speaks again. “But we should really talk about it more, figure it all out before we rush into it.” He runs his hand over his beard.
"We can talk it over tomorrow..." You slowly undo your robe, keeping your eyes on him.
John watches you undress slowly, his eyes glued to your every movement. He continues looking at you throughout the whole process.
Once the robe hits the floor, John lets out a soft groan and looks you over.
You hook your fingers into his waistband, pulling his hips closer to you.
John smirks as you pull him closer to you, and he lets himself get pulled in willingly. His hands move to your ass, giving it a squeeze.
"Again? What're you doin' to me, lovey..."
•••
You look up from brushing your teeth and notice John waiting in the doorway of the washroom.
“Missed me that much?” You tease. “I thought you’d be asleep by now…”
John shakes his head, looking just as wrecked as you felt. “Wanna talk to you first.”
You glance at him again, noticing his suddenly stoic expression.
“Sure,” You nod, following him into the bedroom. The two of you sit at the edge of the bed, next to each other. You instantly get a sick feeling in your stomach by seeing how anxious John looks.
He sighs, closing his eyes tightly as he gathers up the courage to just say it.
"There's something I didn't tell you, that night…" John hesitates before continuing, the silence between the two of you becoming deafening.
He remains silent for a moment longer, trying to find the perfect way to word this to you.
You don't speak.
You think back to the fight that lead to you wanting a divorce.
His job had kept him away for months at a time, that's what started it.
You felt like every time he came back, he was more and more distant. Then you found a plane ticket back to London.
You accused him of cheating, and he couldn't prove you wrong.
John's voice gets quiet as he takes another deep breath.
"That night... I didn't cheat on you. I did keep something from you, but not because of that.” He opens his eyes and looks at you for just a second before he goes back to looking down at the floor.
“Then what was it?” Your voice was strained as you tried to coax the truth out of him. "Just tell me what it was so we can try to move past it.”
“I have a… I have a child. A son, back in London.”
You froze.
Your stomach sank.
You couldn’t even speak.
John sits quietly and waits for you to say something, anything.
"How old?" You ask softly, your eyes closed as you try to focus on your "no fighting" rule.
"He's ten..." He hesitates again, unsure of just what else to add.
You let out a shaky breath. Ten. He’s older than your oldest, meaning that he wasn’t a result of John cheating on you...
You finally open your eyes , ready to look at him.
"Why... Why wouldn't you tell me that you had a child from before we met?"
John sighs again, not expecting you to be this levelheaded about things. He was expecting something much different from this.
“I was afraid.” John admits. He pauses to look away briefly before continuing. "I… I just kept trying to find the right time, the right way to say it to you..."
"...were you with his mother when we met?"
The question catches him off guard, you could see it on his face.
"Yes... I was..."
"I'm gonna be sick." You get off of the bed and stand up.
John immediately stands as well, watching you as you stand and start to walk away from him.
"Wait-" He quickly grabs your arm to stop you, unsure if you're going to the bathroom to be sick or just not look at him anymore.
You pull your arm from his grasp
"You were with her and had a child with her and yet you still took me home from the bar that night? You still fucked me the next day?"
“…yes.” He sighs, still avoiding eye contact. His voice drops to almost a whisper.
"And then you... would say you were at work and instead visited them? Were you still fucking her?!” You tried not to raise your voice, more for the sake of the children than for John.
John tries his best to not get angry, but he's fighting back a lot of emotions now, primarily frustration with himself. He stays quiet for a few long moments, unsure of what to say. He rubs his eyes and then speaks again, trying to find the right words.
“…no, I wasn’t fucking her. I haven’t cheated on you, I want that to be clear.”
"I'm having a hard time believing you." You admit bitterly, crossing your arms. “You and I were divorced for two years; you came back for one night and we’ve been fucking ever since.”
“Wasn’t like that with her.” John insists with a curt shake of his head.
"Why didn't you just tell me the night we met? Or the next morning?"
He stays silent again as he thinks about that very question. He takes in a long breath and then finally answers, his voice still a bit quiet.
"I didn't think you would have given me a chance if you knew the truth..." John says softly, starting to feel some resentment towards himself start to build up.
"The truth being that you had a girlfriend and a baby back home, and were fully planning on cheating on her."
John remains silent.
He didn't know how to argue with that.
He knew it was true. He knew he was being selfish at the time, but he just couldn't let you go after that night. He couldn't explain it.
"Or was she your wife? Fuck, I feel like I don't know anything about you!" Your voice cracks as the tears start forming.
John can hear how hurt you are in your voice, and he hates seeing you like this. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew that you wouldn’t let him.
Not when it was his fault that you were like this.
"Six years, John. You've had six years to tell me about this." You keep your arms crossed tightly, trying to stop the angry jitters.
John doesn’t speak.
"How often do you see them?" You ask suddenly, your breath shaky.
"Not often," John answers earnestly. He rubs his face as he tries to continue.
"I only see them once a month, maybe... Every few months, at least. I just go over to spend time with my son..." His words get a little stuck in his throat, feeling the guilt eat away at him like a virus.
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"About a month ago..." John says softly, his voice sounding just a little bit sad as he mentions how long it's been since he's seen his son.
Your eyes widen.
He had to have just come back from seeing them when he came to shovel the driveway.
John notices how your eyes widen at what you just heard. He immediately looks down, feeling even more shame wash over him.
"You... You're-" You rub your eyes, feeling like I'm about to lose it on him.
John keeps quiet, waiting for the worst to come from this.
If you want to yell at him, if you want to throw things, hit him, kick him out again, he wouldn't blame you at all for any of it.
He'd take it all on the chin if it meant that he could get the opportunity to fix things.
Instead, you just cry.
Sobbing, shaking.
John has had a secret family for the last eight years and kept it a secret from you for the entire six years you’ve known each other.
Your children have a sibling they've never met, but their dad spends time with pretty often.
You’re gutted.
John's reaction to your crying is instant. He pulls you into his arms, wanting to comfort you as you cry.
He knows that nothing he could say right now could make your pain go away, it wouldn’t be enough.
But he still tries his best.
"...I'm sorry, lovey… I’m so sorry," He whispers. He tries to think of anything else to say, but that's all he can say, all he has right now.
John rubs your back as he holds you close to him, still trying to wrap his mind around everything.
John feels your grip around him tighten as you continue to cry, and he squeezes you tight too, not wanting to let go. Just letting you cry against his chest, rubbing your back lightly as he continues trying to process all that just happened.
John rests his chin on your head, his voice raspy when he finally speaks again.
“That night we met… I left your flat knowing that I had to leave her for you; it was love at first sight. I needed to be yours, love. I needed you to be mine.”
You finally pull out of his embrace.
You wipe your tears off of your face and try to steady your shaky breathing.
"You should... You should sleep on the couch."
John watches as you pull away from him.
He's speechless.
He was expecting more... For you to kick him out all together, to tell him to go back to his own place...
But instead you're just calmly telling him where he should sleep.
John nods slowly. He doesn’t fight. He walks downstairs without another word.
You don't even want to be in your bed, where John and you have been sleeping together.
Instead you quietly go into your youngest’s bedroom and scoop her up, carrying her into your oldest’s bedroom and crawling in beside him in his twin bed, holding both of your children close.
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627 notes ¡ View notes
bunnys-kisses ¡ 3 months ago
Text
deep touch
capt. john price
cw: smut & fluff, chronic pain, soft dom!price, comfort fic, husband!price, wife!reader, massages, price is a good man, side by side/spooning position, wife kink
bunny says: chronic pain nation rise!!! i've been battling some pretty bad pains in my legs, thank god that writing is a sedentary activity!
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you knew you had chronic pain, the thing about it was that you could go days feeling decent but, out of nowhere it would all change and you'd be achy all over. with it largely concentrated in your legs.
the rain only made it worse, it was july in the sleepy seaside town you lived in with your husband and there were very few tourists due to the frequent rain. the rain also brought a new challenge, the sleepiness.
you wanted to be awake to spend as much time with your husband now that he was home from his most recent deployment. but at shreds of sunlight were cast between the gaps in rain clouds, you felt lethargic.
you stirred a little and rolled to your side to get your phone. the bed felt welcoming against the aches in your bones. the joints and the muscles wanted nothing else to do but lie there. but you knew that you couldn't be there all day.
you forced yourself up, and put on your slippers before you headed to the kitchen. before you left the bedroom, you put one of price's sweatshirts on yourself as a form of a comfort blanket.
you hobbled to the kitchen and got yourself a cup of ginger tea. it was a little hot for it, so you often let it sit until the cup grew cold. once it poured, you left it and went to go find your husband.
price looked from the morning news to you, he had a cup of coffee in hand which he quickly put down, "hey there, baby girl." he said, "someone's a little stiff this mornin'?"
you chuckled a little, "yeah, you know how it is. rains for three days and suddenly all my joints are mad at me. i thought after all this time, my body would get used to rainy england." you sat down on the couch next to your husband and he pulled you into his chest. you relaxed a little, feeling the soft strength of your husband's chest. even the old shirt he was wearing felt nice.
"well, i guess that means i have to take care of my wife today."
you sighed, "you're supposed to be relaxing, john. you were away for almost three months. let me spoil you."
he kissed the top of your head, "no need to, love. you let me take care of everything, you save your strength."
you sighed, "tomorrow, it'll be better. and then i can make those muffins for you that gladys across the road really liked. and i can also make dinner for you, and you can just sit on the couch with a beer and watch football."
he kissed your head once more to keep you down, "love. if it gets better and you better not lie to me about the pain. i'm going to be home for six months, you have more than enough time to make me every recipe from that little cook book of yours."
"i just wanna make being home feel special." you huffed.
he chuckled, "don't worry, love. just bein' able to be here with you is more than enough to make it special. to have a home."
he just held you for a while, letting you be close to him. the pain was a discomfort that lingered in your body. you wish you could like detach parts of your body and like run them through the wash so they'd stop hurting.
"i hate the pain."
"and i hate seein' ya in pain, love. now why don't i get you some breakfast."
you sighed, "can you rub my legs first, you always know how to help it." your voice sounded so small.
"of course." he said, "i'd love nothing more." he gave you that sweet smile of his as he carefully moved you so he could put your legs on his lap. you noticed that he checked for anything swollen or discoloration. he was too good at this sometimes.
he wanted to make sure his woman was in tip-top shape. he then started to gently rub at your calves. his strong fingers worked into the muscles of your legs. you let out a whimpering noise every time he hit just the right spot. he would stop and you'd give him a thumbs up to assure him that you were a-okay.
"it just feels good." you said as he moved up into your thighs. the noises were almost erotic if it weren't for the pain you were in. that was one thing about dating an army man, was that you would never have to pay for a massage ever again!
"good girl." he praised, "you are always so strong. i'm so proud of you."
he worked the limbs and you were thankful for it. by the time he was finished, you were practically asleep on the couch. price chuckled and grabbed the throw blanket
it wasn't easy, but love wasn't meant to be the easiest thing in the world. and price was going nowhere.
-
the next morning, you were feeling better. and when you turned over, you were greeted to the sight of your husband laid out beside you. he had his glasses on and his phone too close to his face.
you shifted closer to him and kissed him on the cheek, "good morning."
he looked over, he looked like such an old man with those glasses on. he put his phone down and took them off to get closer to you. he wrapped his strong arm around your shoulders and gently pulled you towards him so he could kiss you, "there's the most beautiful woman in the world."
"oh shush."
"how ya feelin'?" he asked.
you looked up at him, "can i be honest?" you felt heat in your cheeks.
price held your face and replied, "i wouldn't want anythin' else." then smiled at you. he was such a comforting presence in your life. your husband was a good few years older than you, but he was as gentle as a lamb with you.
"i'm.. i'm in less pain. the knees are still a little bothersome. but i am actually really horny." you wanted to look away but price had his grasp on you.
"oh really?" he asked, "my little wife is all turned on?"
you replied, "i am. i always get turned on after you dote on me all day. it's like my brain is making up for the hurt it put me through by giving me those feel good chemicals." you laughed a little.
"well, then." he said as he pulled away a little to take off his white t-shirt. you got a good look at his bare toned, hairy chest. he said, "get on your other side, facing away from me. then you don't have to be on your knees."
you face went hotter as you said, "i love you so much."
he chuckled as he pushed the blankets off of the both of you, "my love, i'm never gonna deny my wife what she needs. if that's massages or a good fuckin' then i'm there. because that's what a husband does."
you gave him a quick kiss before you turned over and got your bottom half naked. you felt him get behind you, his cock was stiffening at the feeling of your ass.
his big hands took a hold of you and lifted your right leg so he could have access to your pussy. you could feel his hairy chest through the fabric of your t-shirt.
it was like a comofrting hug, a peaceful feeling of you and your husband making love. you relaxed against the bed and held onto the pillow under your head.
"does it hurt?" he asked softly.
"no, no. none of the pain was in my hips."
he kissed you neck tenderly, "good, good. tell me if it started hurting. i need you to communicate with me."
your other hand held his arm that was draped over your waist. slowly he sank his cock into you, you felt so protected and the pain was minimal. price was such a giving lover, that was the kind of man he was. he wanted to make sure that you felt loved even when he was away.
he rested his chin on your shoulder as bother arms got around you and he started to softly hump against you. his cock felt snug in your cunt. his thrusts were light and quick, but it still built pleasure in both of you.
you held on tightly to your husband as he rutted against you. you could feel the excitement in your chest as your husband made love to you.
"this is how a husband should treat his wife. treat her like the perfect woman she is." he kissed the shell of your ear, "you're perfect. i lucked out, i don't know what god put you in my arms but i hope he is being worshiped till the end of time." he chuckled as he gave you another series of kisses up against the nape of your neck.
"please, john." you moaned, "you're making me hot all over."
he replied softly, "good, i love when you're all hot in the face." his pace was a bit faster now. the pleasure coursed through his veins at the feeling of his beautiful wife's sweet pussy.
the sex was tender. it was soft. it felt good for your aching body and it felt amazing to be loved so tenderly by your husband. you moaned softly against the pillow.
price pressed his forehead against your back as he thrusted into you. his grip on you was firm but light. you weren't getting out of his grasp. he panted against your heated skin.
"i'm close, honey." you whimpered.
he nodded, "me too, love." he picked up the pace a little further, keeping an ear out for your noises so he could make sure he wasn't hurting you.
with a few more thrusts of his hips, you both came at the same time. your heightened sounds paired with the low groan your husband made as the two of you finished.
"my woman." he said as he kissed the center of his back.
he pulled out, but his softening cock rested against your ass as you got comfortable in his burly arms. it was such a protective force all that muscle and fuzz up against your back.
"that's my girl." he mumbled closely into your ear. his facial hair brushed against it.
"i love you, john."
"and i love you, even with all your aches and pains. you know i'm no spring chicken either." he chuckled softly as he laid there close to you, feeling your heated body next to him.
"neither of us are." you chuckled as you turned over a little to kiss him on the lips. <3
392 notes ¡ View notes
callmemickey ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Pepsi Cola
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synopsis: Simon is on his break, but that doesn’t mean you stop working. After a full two weeks of mandatory overtime to complete a project, you were exhausted, absolutely beat. Simon’s been home for a few weeks and was starting to feel guilty. Watching you come home so tired you pass out on the couch? It was frustrating seeing you so drained. Well… it’s Friday night, and you’re sooo exhausted, love - why don’t you lie down and let Simon help you relax?
content: afab, porn w a plot, smut (GET YA PUSSY ATE!!!, fingering, overstim), not fluff?per se but he loves u.
word count: ~3.6k I think idk
notes: Title named after Cola by Lana Del Rey hayyyy iykyk
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Your keys felt so heavy in your hand as you attempted to fish them out of your deep, cluttered purse. They were tangled on something, and with an infuriated grunt, you yanked terribly hard, jerking them violently out of the thralls of your corded headphones. You really needed to switch to wireless. You fumbled them momentarily in your hand, trying to find your house key as the small porch light was your only guide, the sky dark like navy ink. “Fuck,” you mumbled, finally finding the key and opening the front door.
Soft, warm lights lit up the entryway, beckoning you to enter the fortress of comfort, an escape from the throes of responsibilities and existing. A groan left your lips as you closed the heavy door and locked it. The house smelled delicious like a home cooked meal, reminding you that Simon saved you dinner for when you came home. Your stomach growled, eager. “I’m home.” Your voice was loud and filled with fatigue as you called out to your fiancé, always making sure to signal that it was you and not someone breaking in.
You’ll never forget when you tried to surprise him one time. When you got into the living room, presumably as quiet as the dead, he had grabbed you and flipped you onto the couch. “You’re lucky I knew that was you. Wanna know what’d I do if you were a thieving little mouse?” You said yes, and later told him you’ll need to break in more often as he was putting his shirt back on, his back covered with red hot stripes from your fresh manicure.
You walked down the hallway, kicking off your high heels, shuffling towards the living room, your pantyhose helping you glide across the hardwood floors as lifting your feet felt nigh impossible. Simon, ever attentive, met you in the hallway before you could even get into the living room. “Ah, love, you must be exhausted.” His tone was soft, calming, and understanding. The energy that poured from you was prickly and sharp at best, cannibalistic at worst, because while he wanted to generously touch your arm, he was worried for his.
Your purse dropped unceremoniously from your shoulder and onto the floor as you trudged over to the couch. “This week has been terrible,” you grumbled as you plopped chest first onto the cushions, “so much overtime to get a project done for the shareholders. As if it’s my fault that budgets were cut.” Your voice was muffled in the fabric.
The couch sunk by your feet as you felt Simon’s hand gingerly begin to rub your toes, arches, and heels. His thumbs gently but firmly pressing into the swollen, tired flesh of your foot elicited a moan of relief from you. “C’mon, Y/N, why don’t you go wash up? I have your dinner in the oven - I’ll get it started. Let’s go.” His voice was still delicate, supportive.
Simon ushered you up and you sighed, giving a small nod in agreement.
You went into the bathroom and stripped off your clothes. You knew what you were getting into when you were promoted to senior marketing manager, but recently you wished you had better foresight. You turned on the shower, hoping that the hotter the water, the more likely it will boil and burn off any trace of this week happening. As you washed your hair and body, you thanked whatever god allowed for Hell Week to be over. When you felt you were thoroughly cleansed from files, papers, and way too many sticky notes, you ended your shower, wanting to forget the sound of telephones ringing and keyboards clacking.
With a towel wrapped around your body and hair, you stepped out of the bathroom and sighed, the hot, fragrant steam spilling over into the cool bedroom, licking the air. You took the towel off of your head, gently squeezing water out of your hair as you walked to the dresser. You opened your underwear drawer with your hand, humming at your options.
“Feelin’ better?” Simon’s voice purred from the doorway. You looked over and saw him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed - and they briefly rippled with a flex, as if he were holding back. You did a double take, glancing from his feet up at his face. His eyes were half-lidded and a small half smirk sat on his lips. You knew that look. He was ravenous.
“Yeah. Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” You asked before attempting to divert your attention back to the drawer.
“Like what?” He uncrossed his arms, strolling over to you, towering high above. You looked up at Simon’s face.
“Like that!” You couldn’t help but giggle as he buried his face against your neck, sniffing your smooth skin, inhaling the floral scent of your body wash so deep, letting it etch in his memory like carving stone.
He molded his body against yours, hands gripping deeply at your waist, fingers pressed into the plush towel. Your hands reached to wrap around his neck. His warm lips began to leave deep, hot trails against your skin, causing you to sigh in satisfaction. Simon kept your bodies tight together, lips trailing up to your ear. He nibbled at your earlobe, sucking gently at the flesh before biting at the shell, creating a surge of pleasure to pool in your core. You whimpered, hips bucking against his jeans. Your chest heaved in shallow sighs while he continued teasing you, breathing hot puffs against your ear, letting goose bumps sweep across your skin.
“Let me take care of you.” His voice was a hot whisper, and what he gave to you was not a suggestion, but a demand.
“Mmm, you don’t have to baby,” you purred softly, a tame deferment, placidly defying him.
You tested the waters and he called your bluff. He squeezed at your waist, a little firmer than you thought he would. His voice was a low growl, “Take off your towel and lie on the bed.”
Your body began to hum on the same frequency as his, his jeans becoming incredibly firm against your stomach. Simon pulled away, his half-lidded eyes darkening as they swirled with an insatiable drive. Your breath hitched in your chest, your stomach flipping as your cunt twitched in need.
You paused for too long. A hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass and gripped the fat flesh. You yelped more so at the sudden action than the sting. “And what do you say?” He asked, and your arousal caused you to feel your cheeks flush hot.
Your chest heaved. “Yes, sir.” Your voice was quiet, and he smiled.
“Thas my good girl, so god damn beautiful and smart. Go on then, let me see those gorgeous tits.” He moved his hands away from your ass and waist.
Your stomach flipped again, but you obliged, loosening the towel and letting it fall to the floor. Simon took a deep inhale, exhaling sharply as he eyed your body, and right now he looked like he desperately needed to sink his cock into you, but that wasn’t really part of his plan tonight.
He inhaled one more time, blinking himself back to reality as he gave your ass pleasant tap with just enough force to get it to jiggle. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, get your arse on that bed now.” He was at the point of fully commanding you around, but you were okay with that, and you would do anything he ever asked of you. Anything for your wonderful fiancé.
“Yes, sir.” You said coyly, causing his lips to twitch back into a smirk. You felt yourself melt a little while you walked over to the bed, plopping down on the edge.
Simon walked over to you, so unbelievably tall while you were sitting down. Heat pooled down to your stomach when you glanced down at his jeans. You looked back up at him, licking your bottom lip absentmindedly. He smiled, sighing. “Not tonight, love.” He scolded lovingly.
“Later?” You asked.
He paused, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Later,” he agreed, letting you win - which caused you to smile mischievously.
Simon leaned down to you, grabbing you by your waist and tossing you up higher onto the bed. You yelped with a smile, giggling as you fell down on your back, bouncing softly on the down blanket. Simon’s lips came down against yours, giving you little to no time to adjust. His hands, gentle on the naked flesh of your waist, whispered ghostly touches up your sides before eventually cupping your breasts. Your moans were lost in his mouth as his fingers squeezed and rubbed at your nipples, your hands finding themselves lost in his hair. You squeezed his hips with your thighs, your cunt swollen, begging and weeping for his abuse.
He moved his lips down to your neck, kissing, sucking, and gently biting you. Simon moved a hand from your breast and used it as leverage next to your head while the other hand slid down your front, tickling your sensitive skin, roaming over your stomach and mound. His fingers dipped down between your folds, pressing into your wet heat. You let out a pathetic whimper at the contact alone, raising it into a moan as his fingers rubbed slow circles against your clit.
“Ah, yeah? You like that, Y/N?” He purred against your neck before pulling away to see your reaction. You bit your lower lip and nodded feverishly at him, eyebrows furrowed. Simon smiled, your wet hair sticking to your face, providing a cool relief to the heat that swarmed your body like a furnace.
“Ye-yeah, yes- yes, sir,” you managed to gasp out. His smile turned into a smirk as he felt your cunt twitching. As if answering your unspoken prayers, his two digits dipped and pushed into your needy hole. A gasp was ripped from you, jaw dropping slightly at the sudden filling of your cunt.
“God, already so wet - my girl has the best fucking pussy.” He gave a small thrust, causing you to moan gently and buck your hips. “Oh, the things I’d do just to have my cock buried in you,” he growled before gently pumping his fingers.
Your tits bounced as his digits softly fucked into you, fingers curling up and rocking your hips, pressing into that spot that had your eyes rolling back. Your grip left his hair and soon grasped desperately onto his back, causing him to groan while your nails dug at him. “Ha, ah, harder,” you gasped as your hips bucked against his hand.
Simon smiled. “Yeah? You wanna cum on my fingers, don’tcha baby?” He asked, your cunt twitching embarrassingly at his words.
“Yes- yes, sir, please!” You whined.
“Hold on, love,” he sighed before rocking his fingers into you at an ungodly pace.
Your voice raised pitch before becoming lost in your throat, your head thrown back and eyes gone. All that filled the room was the sounds of your juices squelching against his fast moving digits. The silence was soon cut, moans finally finding their way out of you. Your fingernails dragged frantically at his back, as if you were fighting to stay grounded. Your cunt constricted harshly around his fingers, trapping him.
Your orgasm ripped through you, your hips bucked against his fingers and your thighs squeezed at his hips. Like a cool tidal wave poured over you, a chill ran down your back as your body surged with pleasure, leaving you crying out Simon’s name. He chuckled softly with a gentle voice, “Ahhh, thas my good girl, huh?” His voice was like a warm blanket of clouds, helping you down from your dizzying high. He pulled his fingers out and gave a small slap to your pussy, causing you to whine and your hips to stutter as he teased the tender flesh.
“Jesus, Simon,” you whimpered, your head still swimming in the aftershocks of pleasure.
He chuckled at your reaction while planting kisses down your neck and collarbone, stopping at your breasts to lope a nipple into his mouth. You let out a throaty groan as his teeth pulled at the sensitive, hardened bud. Your nails that raked at his back moved back up to his hair, the pads of your fingers pressing firmly into his scalp as his locks slid and tightened betweens your digits. The sensation had him sighing against your mounds.
He released your breast from his mouth, his teeth squeezing at your nipple before fully letting go, causing you to let out a small yelp. Simon began to kiss down your chest and the expanse of your stomach. He placed deep kisses at your hips before heading towards the simmering heat of your cunt - sticky, wet, and begging. He looped his arm under your thigh, hand holding your hip to keep you in place.
Simon’s lips pressed against your swollen clit, causing you to gasp harshly. His tongue, flat and hot, slid up your folds, extracting a long moan from you, and in response he moaned. “I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he hummed against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice driving straight to your core.
You groaned, your hips grinding against him in response which caused him to chuckle against you. “O-oh God, Simon!” You cried at the overwhelming stimulation, your legs shaking at his persistence as he buried his mouth into your cunt.
Simon lapped at you hungrily like a man dehydrated, drinking at your sloppy pussy as if he’d never be able to go back down on you again. It was gluttony and pure greed. He had commented before about how he hopes his manner of passing is drowning while you straddle his face. You laughed and said maybe one day! He didn’t think your joking demeanor was appropriate, and how he meant every word with serious intent. Whenever he’s being deployed on a mission, he always assures you he won’t die, because you’re the only one that could take him out. Of course, you didn’t truly understand the depth of his conviction.
Simon’s teeth gently nibbled and helped to create a suction around your clit, his dampened fingers once again finding your hole and pushing in. You let out a loud moan, your hips driving against his face, his nose pressing onto your mound as he did everything he could to keep you two attached, connected. He moved his head to match with your movements, keeping his mouth glued flat to your pussy, and any attempt to pull yourself away from him would prove futile.
Your fiancĂŠ has a wonderfully keen gift of being a giver. He was always so incredibly selfless with you, which could get almost aggravating as he was certain on making sure that your needs were met first. This attitude carried over to the bedroom. He could give you fifty orgasms and beg to give you fifty more while never even taking his shirt off.
What he loves, besides bringing you pleasure you’ve never experienced before, is seeing you lost in passion. Watching your face twist as he stretches you with an additional finger, your eyes rolling back as he hits that sweet spot, your hips grinding as you chase after your orgasm, your back arching and legs shaking as the euphoria and bliss crash over and through you. Simon got off by simply being the source of your arousal, and he savored unraveling you thread by thread before you’re bare before him.
That’s what he loved.
Your pleasure brimmed to the top, the lip, before finally pouring over. Your hands gripped tight at his scalp, legs tightened around his head as your back arched, head thrown back. Your cunt tightened deliciously around his pumping digits, his tongue still swirling around your clit as he rode out your orgasm. “F-Fuck, Simon!” You cried, moaning loudly, still holding onto him as the high came to slow, but he didn’t stop.
He continued to pump and lap at your clit, causing you to squeal in overstimulation, legs beginning to shake as a concoction of pleasure and pain pulsed through your core with every pass of his tongue. “I can’t- ah! Simon, please!” You sobbed, begging him to stop. A harsh groan left you, your body trying to shake him away as he kept his mouth to you. It wasn’t fair - it was too much. You were starting to burnout, your body sore and barely able to keep up. Regardless of your exhaustion, another orgasm was in the horizon, slowly reaching it’s peak before ultimately falling into a frenzied bliss.
“You gonna cum again, baby?” Simon mumbled against your sex, the vibrations causing you to groan roughly as your hands moved from his head to the sheets, grasping them with a white-knuckled grip, back arched impossibly high as you tried to wriggle away. You nodded frantically at his question, your body squirming and tossing with no ability to stop or control it as he pushed you to your limits.
You never doubt that Simon can bring you another orgasm in quick succession - he’s proven that true multiple times, almost every time, especially now. Your poor clit, though, was bullied and battered, the bundle of nerves crying out in both pain and pleasure. But it was a slave to Simon. Even during the loneliest of nights, months in bed by yourself, you could never make yourself feel how he makes you feel. It was maddening, and frankly unfair, but it made the intimate times with him all the more exhilarating and mind numbing. What makes it better is that no one but Simon has been able to bring you into such a state of ecstasy.
Simon’s free hand, still wrapped around your thigh and holding onto your hip, held you so tightly in place he pinched at your skin. You were going to bruise there, you knew, but you didn’t really care. Even though it was like edged like a razor, your release was fast approaching with no stops. You panted heavily, loudly, your body involuntarily writhing as the pleasure tipped you over the scale. His tongue dragged hot and firm against your clit, his fingers still thrusting and rubbing the spongy spot inside your cunt as the muscle enclosed and clamped around him, unforgiving.
“Oh, God!” You cried loudly, tears pricking at your eyes as you used a hand to cover your face.
Your orgasm came fast and sharp. His onslaught was staggering and unrelenting, and it brought an end that was piercing, sudden. A scream was ripped from you as the pleasure came like a heavy punch, borderline painful. It was a surge of electricity that ripped through your core, shocking your nerves and forcing your body to briefly tense… but it all dissipated almost immediately. Your mind and body crashed.
Your back collapsed onto the bed and Simon’s fingers slid out of your clenching cunt, his mouth pulling away from your swollen, angry clit. A moan of relief fell out of your mouth as Simon crawled atop you, a hand pushing the hair out of your face as he planted his lips onto yours, kissing you deeply and fully. Your juices had coated his lips in abundance, and you tasted yourself as his tongue slipped into your mouth. His tongue was slick, and he made sure that you entire mouth was coated with yourself.
He pulled back, allowing you the space to sit up, delirious, face hot and wet from sweat. Simon stifled a laughter behind a tightly pursed mouth. “What.” Your tone strained with trying to demand an answer, but it was hoarse from your yelling and crying.
He shook his head, his eyes fluttering. “Your hair, love.”
Your hands shakily went to your hair, feeling it messy and sticking up at odd angles. “Ah.” You nodded, trying to run your fingers through to flatten it out.
Simon preemptively got up to the bathroom and came out with a brush, taking a seat behind you as he silently began brushing out your hair, starting at the ends. You two took the moment quietly, slowly, and embraced just being in each other’s presence. The session was hot and heavy, and having Simon nearby, gently brushing out your vicious knots, was soothing on your frazzled nerves, like aloe on a sunburn. “You feelin’ good, babe?” He asked in a quiet tone.
You hummed. “Yeah, but that last one was really intense.” You commented, eyebrows briefly furrowed as the third orgasm continued to make your body shudder. His hands suddenly wrapped deep in your hair at the base of your scalp, and with a gentle tug, he pulled your head back to look at him, causing you to gasp quickly.
“Were you able to handle it?” His brown eyes bore into you, and you gave a restrained nod, almost forgetting that his hand was keeping your head steady.
Your voice was meek and small, “Yes, sir.”
Simon smiled, kissing your forehead. “That’s my girl,” he purred, gingerly releasing your head and putting the brush on the nightstand. He gave you a kiss on the top of your head as he stood up, commenting about checking on dinner.
You noticed his cock was rock solid in his jeans, pressing and straining against the denim so tight it must’ve hurt. God, you wanted to return the favor more than you could possibly put into words. He noticed your gaze and his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head upwards so your eyes met his.
“Later, like we agreed.” His voice was low, firm, and painfully arousing. Literally. Your clit throbbed with both the need to be doted on and to also be left alone for a long, long time. “Get dressed. I’ll be in the kitchen.” With that, Simon left you to your own devices in the bedroom.
You got up out of bed, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of your beaten cunt being squeezed between your legs. You hobbled to the dresser, resuming your original task. Underwear. Grabbing a random pair, along with pajama shorts and a shirt, you found yourself comfortable and ready for the night, making sure to slide on your robe so you didn’t get chilly.
The evening progressed. You sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, eating your dinner while Simon sat on the couch behind you, running his fingers through your hair, lazily braiding your locks as a movie played on the television. Your lovely fiancé also made sure you were planted on the softest, fluffiest pillow he could find. When you were finished, he made you sit on the couch while he cleaned up, coming back just to delicately massage your feet. It was tender, romantic, thoughtful. Simon wasn’t a very… physically affectionate partner, so these moments when he just wanted to be with you, to touch you, well, you really tried to get as much as you could.
When he was finished, his hands slid up your smooth calves towards your thighs, beckoning you to cuddle closer - to which you did. You hopped across the couch where the back of your legs were draped over his thighs, nestling your body in close to his, letting him wrap his large arm around your shoulders to keep you close. Oh, you couldn’t even put into words how peaceful being wrapped up in his arms made you feel. Warm, secure, safe. His other hand sat on your thigh, his veins and tendons prominent, titillating, twisting around his forearms, making the black ink of his tattoo dance. What was even hotter was seeing these veins and tendons flex and and tighten as his hands gripped the sheets or headboard as he fucked you to nirvana, until nothing but prayers and begging for God spilled and tumbled from your mouth in an indistinguishable slur.
“Why so nice tonight?” You asked him in a quiet voice, looking up at him while resting your head against his chest.
Without hesitation, he looked down at you. “Do I need a reason?” Your stomach fluttered, heat spreading to your face. You shook your head. “You’ve been stressed and working late this week. Least I could do,” he explained regardless and shrugged, rubbing the fresh stubble on his jaw.
Simon’s been back for a month, and you’ve been so busy you feel like you’ve barely seen him. He gets up extremely early to see you before work, make you breakfast and coffee, and prepare your lunch. All day he makes sure the house is clean and chores are done, opting to even overhaul the landscaping in the front yard - something you’ve been too busy to do. At night, he always waits for you to come home, dinner ready if you haven’t eaten. He makes sure you’re showered and taken care of before starting the whole routine again in the morning. You didn’t necessarily feel less than or that you’re lacking in the relationship, but it was infuriating not being able to take care of your fiancé while he has worked tirelessly to keep the world from blowing up.
But that wasn’t wholly true, was it? Sure, you felt that way, having openly admitted your insecurities to him, but Simon has always been genuine and adamant in letting you know that you’re doing so much more when you don’t have to. While he loves that you’re on your corporate grind, he’s made it clear that if you told him you never wanted to lift your hand again, you wouldn’t. Of course, with weeks, and honestly, months like these, you get closer and closer to considering to take him up on his offer. Then you could be that sweet, doting housewife, eager for her husband to come home from war.
“So,” you started, grabbing his attention and warm gaze, “is it later yet?”
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whatifitis ¡ 6 days ago
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♡ I See You - LN 4 ♡
Summary: Lando is under immense stress due to his career and he can't drag down his love with him. Will their relationship survive a horror movie?
Author's Note: This was requested and as soon as I saw it, I was excited to start it and I had so many ideas for this so I hope y'all enjoy it!
WC: 6k+ with some instagram posts
CW: poor mental health, a bit of angst, a kiss here and there, happy ending
-=+=-
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f1 Just one lap could’ve made all the difference for Lando’s race 😣
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User32 Lando needs to stop thinking he ‘should’ve won’ it’s starting to seem a little entitled.. The two ahead of him have 165 wins between them
User33 They completely ruined Oscar’s race
User34 the only thing he brings to McLaren and F1 is shame
User35 Geez people in the comments are so quick to say hateful things but don’t think about how their words hurt, lando is pressuring himself into doing good and yall just wanna hate on him at any chance you get
-=+=-
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f1gossip sources close to the couple are saying that Lando Norris and Y/n L/n have split after just 7 months together
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User22 she was just one of the girls he’ll date for like a summer then leave when he’s bored. Can’t wait to see who the next slut is
User67 she lost color in her face since she’s been with him, glad she finally knows her worth
User54 she looked so bored recently, and i mean it’s her right since he practically love bombed her
-=+=-
“I can’t break you when I’m breaking.” - was all you heard before everything went silent. 
You and Lando had been together for about 7 months, not all of which was rainbows and daisies. 
When you first met, it was like stepping into the sun again after having spent so long in the dark. You had your fair share of heartaches before Lando. It was hard for you to give in to him at first, but after a few weeks, you gave in and you’re grateful for giving not only him, but yourself a chance. 
You knew what you were getting into when you started dating him. You knew he was a driver in F1 and that his fanbase could be quite protective of him. You also were aware of his crazy schedule with the races and meetings and training. Lando also told you about how he and his ex had to break up due to the invasion of privacy that was experienced, and how his ex simply couldn’t do it anymore, which is more than understandable. But even with every warning he gave you, you still stayed. 
These past few weeks have been chaotic though. Lando is a strong contender for the WDC this year against Max and there’s pressure and eyes all around him. You’ve watched as the media berated him for weeks and weeks, never letting up. Everyone has high expectations of him and it’s slowly destroying him, even if he can’t see it yet. 
You won’t lie, it has indeed had an impact on your guys’ relationship. Not only is distance and time difference straining you two, but the constant analysis and comments from the media have taken a toll. 
It was obvious to you that Lando would be gone for most weeks out of the year, but now, even when he is home, he’s not fully there. It’s like he’s a ghost in his own home, his own body. 
“You’re not breaking me” - you tell him. But you both know you’re lying. As much as you may love him, his distance has been something that has destroyed you. You started to wonder what you were doing wrong, how could you fix this? 
“I am, and it’s hurting me so much that I’m doing this to you when you don’t deserve all this shit. You deserve so much more. You deserve all the good things in life, like seeing your partner for more than a week, going to the grocery store without being stalked by fans, having someone who can be there for you, someone who won’t drag you down.” he says, tears streaming down his face. His hands are shaking at the thought of losing you, but he knows he loves you too much to let you down. He’s completely broken now. His heart aches and sinks every time he thinks about how you’re being treated. He doesn’t want to be the person who takes your sparkle, who makes you feel less of a person. 
“You’re not. I’m fine. We’re fine, love. I can handle it, all the shit that’s getting thrown at us. We can survive this horror movie.” you try to convince him… convince yourself, as tears are now streaming down your face as well. 
“We can’t. I’m not the way I was, I’m not the same person I was when we met.” you watch as he takes a shaky breath in, trying to compose himself, “All I ever wanted was to drive and race in Formula 1. But now that I have it, it doesn’t feel enough. As soon as I joined, so much pressure was put on me to be the best. When I started, the car was shit, so I helped make it better, and I did. I feel like all I’m doing is trying and trying to please everyone and to be who they want me to be, but it’s so hard. And this isn’t what I wanted. I just wanted to race and have fun, not drive myself to the point of destruction. I don’t want to be the machine that the team, media, and fans want me, and expect me to be. I feel like I’m giving my all to the team and to the sport but it’s not enough and it’ll never be enough. I feel like I’m stuck and I can’t get out no matter what I do. The one thing I wanted all my life, and now it’s mine. But it feels like I’m theirs.” he lets out an ironic laugh. 
You slowly walk to him, moving to hold his hands in yours. Without missing a beat, one of your hands gently lifts his chin, making his eyes connect with yours. 
“They’re feeding you to the wolves and it’s unfair. They cheer your name until the lights go out, then they throw you to the side and disregard you till the next time they need you. They’re not fair to you and it’s draining you. You have a look that I can’t recognize. You used to love this sport with all your heart but now it’s the thing that’s killing you.”
“But I need to keep going. I need to prove that I can be what they want. I need to prove that I’m not just some spoiled, ignorant kid who paid his way to this place. I need to show that I earned my right to be here and to have this seat.” he tries to explain. 
“I understand that, Lan. But we need to find a better way to handle all this. It’s clearly taking a toll on you and your health. It’s been a long year. You’re constantly watched and analyzed, with people documenting your every move to create sickening plots for their stories of you, of us. They expect so much, so you’re expected to follow, but that’s not how it’s supposed to work.” He pulls back from you, removing his hands from yours and taking steps back. You watch as he begins to pace the room, shaking his head as he speaks. 
“To know me is to hate me, and to hate what I’ve become. It’s to watch me fail over and over again, and I can’t keep doing this to you. I can’t let you hold my hand in yours anymore.” he says as he stops in front of you, trying his best to refrain from spilling more tears but it’s merely impossible. His biggest fear is coming into fruition, he’s losing you. He’s letting you go. He wanted to let you out of this mess before it was too far gone for you to come back to life. You gave him all of your best self and your endless empathy. 
“What are you saying, Lan?” you barely let out as a whisper, afraid of the answer. 
“I’m letting you go. I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole but I have to do this. All this shit is just gonna hurt you more. You can’t do this to yourself. It’s killing me to know I’m just bringing you down with me.” he practically pleads. 
“I stay because I want to, not because I feel forced to or like I have to. I do it because I love you.” your voice cracks with the last bit. 
“I’m sorry for all this. I care about you a lot and I hope everything goes well. I hope you get everything you could ever want. I’m sorry for all the mess.”
“Don’t be sorry. You are worth all of the shit. But can you please let me stay?” you beg through tears.
His lips are quivering, tear stains paint his face as he breaks himself in two. Cause truthfully, you will always hold a part of him. Through all the obstacles and shit, you stuck by him. 
“Goodbye, y/n.” is all he says before he turns his back on you, walking out the door. 
He didn’t even wait for your response, leaving as soon as he could because he knew if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t have followed through with the breakup. 
You weren’t sure how long you stood there, in the middle of your living room. You had to watch the person you thought you would marry, walk out the door. You thought he was your forever. You shared your dreams with each other, planned out the house you two would grow old in. The house where you would have rocking chairs on the front porch where the two of you would watch the neighborhood kids run by, yelling at them to stay off the lawn. What dreams those were, dreams that would remain just that, dreams. 
For a while after the breakup, all you did was lie in bed either sleeping the days away or doom scrolling on social media. It got so bad that your roommate/best friend had to physically drag you out of bed after a week of letting you rot in it.
The first day of what your best friend liked to call “post breakup, glow up”, you guys decided to just have a self care day where you took it easy and ordered in food and did face masks while coloring in some books. 
It was fun and a nice distraction until your phone dinged. The look on your face scared your best friend so she looked over your shoulder to see who it was. Lando’s name was displayed along with a message, “Hey, how you been?”. 
Was this how exes interacted after a breakup? Typically after the breakups you’ve experienced, there was no contact. What’s Lando up to? You knew he didn’t keep in contact with any of his exes after their break ups, so why was he texting you? 
When you snap back to reality, your friend is giving you a concerned look, wanting to know what was going through your head so she could help in the best way possible. 
“Should I text him back?” You asked.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, babe. He still hurt you towards the end of the relationship, although not intentionally, but it still fucked you up a bit. I don’t want you to lose the progress you’ve made.”
“Yeah, I understand. I won’t text him back then.” You tell her as you turn off your phone and throw it to the side, picking up your marker and starting coloring again. 
You lied. You ended up texting him back later that night once you were back in bed, ready to end the night with what hopefully would be a decent sleep. 
You and Lando exchanged a few texts, mainly just catching up and seeing how the other was. You weren’t gonna lie, it felt nice to talk to him again. But what was this gonna lead to? Hopefully getting back together, but what are the odds? 
The occasional text conversations took place over the course of a few weeks. Lando knew he shouldn’t have been texting you, but he couldn’t help himself. The weeks following the break up, he went back and forth on whether he regretted it or not. He wondered if it was the best thing to do. 
Every day, he saw you in everything he saw or did. When he goes to get coffee, he swears he can still hear you laughing at the mustache of foam that would appear on his face after his first sip of coffee. 
When he’s outside in the park for a run, he’s reminded of you when he sees the rabbits hiding in the bushes. You always used to squeal out of joy and cuteness from the rabbits, even if you’d already seen them about 20 times prior. 
Every song, every film, every color reminded him of you. He thought about you every single day, wondering what you were doing and how you were. He even went as far as stalking your Spotify profile. He knew you made playlists for everything and he would watch your listening activity to see what mood you were in. 
He wasn’t surprised when he saw you listening to Taylor Swift and Gracie Abrams for hours on end. Those two were your go to sad girls. But he was surprised when none of the songs were about how shit the guy was. All the songs you were listening to were about regretting breakups and just missing someone. 
The night he texted you for the first time since the breakup, he had been gaming with Max and a few of his other friends, trying to take his mind off things. 
He didn't know what he texted you, he just did. He didn’t even have a plan for what he wanted to say. It turned out all right in the end though. You guys had a peaceful conversation and shared a laugh or two, for which he was grateful. 
Maybe you guys could remain friends? 
-=+=-
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y/n_l/n i’m on my knees at the altar, baby
Asking God to wash you from my soul
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User4 he’s a waste of running mascara, you’re on to greater things 
alexandrasaintmeux the most beautiful girl in the world
User97 ummm, what’s lando doing in the likes?! Didn’t they break up…
User23 she was a fool for thinking she could be enough for him
User10 lando leave the poor girl alone, you’ve done enough damage 
-=+=-
Everytime he texted you, you came back. He’d ask to try again and you’d say yes. You’d come back to his place and spend nights there, only for him to break things off again. He keeps saying he can fix it and do better. But then he sends you on your own again. He keeps telling you how much he loves you, only to tell you he’s not good enough for you and that you should break up, again. 
For two months, the two of you went back and forth. You would break up one week then get back together the next. It felt like a game that you kept losing and you were tired of it. 
It felt like you were always taking one step forward and two steps back. Now you know, none of this is fair to you. You keep trying to give him your all, trying to be there for him when he needs it but he still doesn’t change. 
You know you’re not falling out of love for him. But you think you have to fully let him go now. Do what he did to you to protect you, but actually block him out after. Instead of stringing him along like he did to you. 
It’s a week before the Belgium GP so it’s now or never. 
You asked Lando to meet you in your shared hotel room as the Hungarian GP just ended earlier. He’d gotten P2 which is amazing. But he still wasn’t entirely happy with his performance as he thinks he could’ve done better. The team thinks he should’ve gotten P1 and that it would’ve helped gain more points for the championship. 
You would’ve preferred to pick a better time to do this, but there is no other time, at least anytime soon. But you don’t want to be stuck here forever, in this loop of false hope. 
When Lando gets back to your shared room, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, picking at the skin on your fingers. 
“Hey, stop doing that. It’s not good for you.” He gives you a smile as he takes off his shoes and meets you in the bed. As he sits next to you, he lands a kiss on the top of your head and then a kiss on your cheek before finally connecting your lips with his in a sweet, warm kiss. 
“You said you wanted to talk to me about something? What’s up? Everything alright?” He asks, a bit of concern laces his words. 
You take a deep breath and sit up straight, trying to gain the courage to follow through with your plan.
“I can’t do this anymore.” You say. Lando’s heart drops at your words. 
“What’d you mean?” He stutters a bit.
It takes everything in you to look him in the eye as you say “I’m breaking up with you, for good.”
“Oh.” Is all that comes out of his mouth. He’s turned his body forward, staring blankly at the wall as he processes this.
“I’m sorry, Lando. But it’s not fair to either of us. We keep stringing each other along. Hoping for something that’ll never happen. I’m tired. It feels like I’m the only one fighting for us.” 
Lando suddenly sucks in a breath of air, furrowing his eyebrows and turning his body to you before telling you “no”
“No? Lando, what do you mean no?”
“No, we’re not breaking up again.”
“You can’t just say no. I’m- I’m making this decision for the both of us. For our best interest, we have to break up.”
“No, I’m not having it. I’m not doing it. It’s you and me til the end.”
“Lando, please can we ju-“
“Nope.”
You sit there dumbfounded at what’s happening. Is he refusing a breakup like it’s a piece of fish? 
You sit there and stare at him for a hot minute before crossing your arms and asking “why?”
“Cause”, is all he says before he stands up and goes to take a shower. 
Ain’t no way. 
You’re so confused and amazed at what just happened. He really just denied a breakup. 
As Lando took his shower, you took this time to process what happened and how to go about this conversation again once he comes back. 
After about 15 minutes, Lando leaves the bathroom in fresh clothes and stands in front of you, “what’d you want for dinner?” 
“Did you disregard my breakup speech?” You stand and ask.
“Yes. Now, where’s the room service menu?” He asks as he pads around the room, genuinely looking for the room service menu. 
You bring your hands to your face and roughly rub your eyes to try and approach this correctly. 
“Lando, stop thinking about the menu for 5 seconds and look at me.”
He’s stopped dead in his tracks and looks at you innocently. 
This guy. 
His bottom lip begins to quiver and his eyes become glossed with tears. 
With a bit of rasp in his voice he tells you “We’re not breaking up. I can’t lose you again, I won’t do it. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had and pushing you away was awful. I missed your laugh, I missed your jokes, I missed your loose hairs all around the flat, I missed your snoring when I tried to sleep, I missed you. Please don’t go again.” 
Tears are streaming down his face as he begs you to stay. 
“Lando, we can’t keep doing the same shit over and over again. We break up one week then get back together the next. You tell me you’ll do better and you’ll fix things but nothing changes. You’re still under immense stress and letting people walk all over you. I don’t know how we can survive this anymore if you don’t try to change that.” 
You start to wonder if breaking up really is the best solution. You would still be sad about losing him and you would still constantly worry about him. He would still be stuck in this toxic place where everyone puts all their expectations on him. Everyone would still harass him and analyze his every move. What would breaking up really fix? 
“Please. I’m standing here trying to be honest. We’re a thousand miles away from the day that we started, and I’m still in love with you. I just wanna forget everything that’s come and gone cause I hate not being with you. The stars don’t shine as bright when you’re not here.”
Slowly, you walk up to him, reaching for the sides of his face and using your thumbs to wipe away some of his tears. He instinctively moves his hands to your hips, holding you as tight as he can, as if you’re water in his hands. You look him in the eyes and realize you love him too much to let him go. You two love each other too much to leave it like this. 
“Hey,” you say softly, “why don’t we do this? The Belgian GP is next week, right? You’ll go do that and I’ll go home for a bit. After the Belgian GP, I’ll meet you in Glastonbury, yeah? We’ll spend your break there and we’ll try and sort out whatever’s going on up here?” You ask as you gently tap the side of his head. 
All he can do is smile, grateful for you and your patience with his shit. He nods his head yes before pulling you closer and holding you tight, burying his face into your neck. 
With a deep breath, you feel Lando relax in your arms. 
“Thank you.” He whispers in your neck. He can’t believe he’s able to keep someone as special as you in his life, even with the war in his head. 
“We’ll be alright. We’re okay”, you don’t say anything else, just holding him closer, knowing it’s enough for him right now. Maybe you two could try to go back where you started. 
Lando booked a flight from Belgium to go back to his hometown almost immediately after the race. He just couldn’t bear being away from you for so long, especially after all the shit you guys have been through, especially after all the shit he put you through. 
You decided that since he’ll be landing quite late, the two of you would spend the night watching movies and eating some home cooked food. The beginning of the healing journey could start tomorrow. 
When he landed at the airport, he was greeted by you with a massive sign that said “Lando Norris - STD clinic emergency shuttle”. 
The amount of laughs that the sign got was a joy to you. Especially the laugh Lando had let out upon reading the sign. He knew you were gonna pull some shit like this, although he was surprised you didn’t wear scrubs to add to the bit. 
With a big warm hug, Lando finally felt like he could start to relax and let go, at least until the next race. 
The two of you made your way to your car, then headed back to a secluded airbnb that you had rented for the next few weeks. Although the two of you were more than welcome to stay with Lando’s family, the pair of you thought it would be best if Lando had a place with some real peace and quiet to be able to sort through his mind. 
During the drive to the airbnb, you put on a playlist that you had made for drives with Lando at the beginning of your relationship. It had been a while since you’d played it, so it was a pleasant surprise for him when he realized what playlist was playing after a few songs. 
“I forgot about this playlist. Missed it." He gives a soft smile. The one he used to have before all the chaos had been inflicted. You can tell this little break will definitely bring back at least a small piece of your Lando. 
“I did too. Found it the other day when I was clearing my playlists. I added a few more songs as well. I know we usually pick the songs for this playlist together but I thought it’d be nice. Hope you don’t mind.” you tell him, wondering if maybe he’d be upset that you messed with the playlist without him. 
“Nah. I like it. Like a bit of a surprise for me.” he says as he shrugs his shoulders. You smile as you look at him for a moment. Your boy is coming back to you, slowly but surely. 
“Oh, don’t speed here. There’s always this one fucking guy sitting in a corner, ready to give anyone and everyone a ticket.” he tells you as you turn onto a certain street. 
“You know every road in this county, don't you?” you tease, watching as he gets a bit shy. 
“Yeah, let’s just say he may or may not love to see me coming. He used to catch me speeding all the time and he gave me too many fucking tickets.” 
You just sit there and laugh at him. Of course the Formula 1 driver always gets caught speeding. 
Once you pull into the driveway for the airbnb, Lando is smiling, already getting out of the car and closing his eyes, breathing in the fresh air and taking it all in. He’s excited and grateful for this break from the races. As much as he does enjoy the actual racing, all the other factors were pushing him to his breaking point. The sun was collapsing but he didn’t realize until everything came crashing down all at once. 
He’s pulled out of his thoughts when you close the car door. He starts moving to the trunk of the car to pull out his luggage. You wait by the front of the car, watching him roll his way to you and taking your hand in his as he leads you to the door of the house. 
The second you unlocked the door and opened it, Lando ran in like a kid and immediately dropped all his belongings before flopping onto the couch. 
Yup, that’s my man. 
“You like it? Out of all the rentals available, I thought this one was the best. It’s a bit far from everything and there’s a hiking trail not far.” you tell him, walking to the kitchen to prepare dinner. 
Lando is rolling on the couch as if he were a dog trying to get into a comfortable position. His head pops over the back of the couch to look at you, “Yeah, seems quite cozy. Thanks for this, darling. I know I don’t really deserve you but I’m really grateful that you’ve given me so many chances.”
“Don’t thank me, love. I love you and I want you to be okay,” his cheeks blush at your words. It’s been a while since you’ve called him ‘love’, “Put something on the tv and lie down for a bit while I prepare dinner, yeah?” 
“You sure I can’t help you? I can peel a potato or something… okay maybe nothing as advanced as peeling a potato but I can boil noodles or something.” he chuckles a bit. 
“Gorgeous, last time you tried to boil noodles, you burnt the water. I still don’t know how you managed that.” you couldn’t contain your laugh at the memory. It was one of your first dates with Lan and he’d wanted to make you a home cooked meal. Take out ended up being delivered. 
“Yeah, alright. We’re watching Hannah Montana.” he said as he flopped his back against the couch. 
When dinner was cooked, you and Lando plated the food before moving to sit on the floor in the living area, using the coffee table to eat off. 
The two of you continued watching Hannah Montana until the episode where Blue Jeans became ill. Lan immediately changed the show to play the movie rather than the tv series.
“Lan, you do know Blue Jeans recovers at the end of the episode, right?” 
“Yeah but he still has to go through the traumatic experience of being bitten by that snake and I just can’t. We’re gonna watch the Hannah Montana movie now and slow dance to ‘Crazier', cry to ‘Butterfly Fly Away’, and dance to ‘You Can Always Find Your Way Back Home’.” he tells you sternly. He's made up his mind and nothings gonna change that. So that’s just what you do. 
When Taylor Swift appears on the screen and starts singing ‘Crazier’, Lando jumps up off the floor and leans his body towards you, holding his hand out for you to take. Once you place your hand in his, he pulls you swiftly off the floor, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck while his hands are secured on your waist. The two of you swing your bodies slowly and effortlessly to the melody that’s playing in the background. 
When the lyric “you lift my feet off the ground.” Lando does exactly that. He’s gripped your waist and lifted you in the air, bringing a squeal out of you as you were not expecting that. He keeps you above him as you let out a fit of giggles. Once your feet land back on the ground, you fall into Lando, trying to catch your breath. You listen to his heartbeat and hold him tight. He really is your favorite person. 
In true Lando fashion, he knows all the words to this song. As he should since he decided it was one of your songs a while ago. You watch as he sings the words to you, and you realize just how truly in love you are with the person in front of you. You would wait forever for him. He’s the closest to heaven you’ll ever be. 
Once the song ends, the two of you sit back down and continue watching the movie. You were cuddled up to Lando, wrapping yourself around his arm as he rested his head on yours, occasionally leaving soft kisses. 
The beginning chords of ‘Butterfly Fly Away’ play and Lando is already in tears. He’s already buried his head into your shoulder as he sobs about how emotional the song is. “He was always there for her. He tucked her in and turned out the light. He had to do it all alone!” 
All you could do to comfort him was hold him close to you and rub his back. You hummed along to the song, Lando loved it when you did that. You never sang in front of him, but when you did, it was like God's greatest gift to him.  
The end of the movie was near as the opening chords of ‘You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home’. The two of you were already on your feet, ready to dance and sing along. Lando had even pushed some of the furniture out so that there was more room for dancing. 
With some crazy moves and a whole lot of jumping around, you and your love had the time of your lives. 
Lando is pointing at you when he sings the lines “‘Cause, when I’m feeling down, and I’m all alone, whoa, oh. I’ve always got a place where I can go.” singing completely off key but who cares, he’s having fun, and so are you. 
When the song comes to an end, you’re in Lando’s arms, trying to catch your breath again. But it feels impossible when everytime you look at him, he takes your breath away. The most beautiful man ever is yours? Crazy, really. 
You stay in his arms for a moment, looking into those eyes that looked like sunlight was filtering through leaves. 
“Home.” he breaks the silence, smiling down at you wholeheartedly. He cocks his head to the side before continuing, “You’re my home.” 
It took everything in you not to break down into a puddle of tears at that moment. 
Instead, you bring your lips to his, connecting them in a sweet, soft exchange. 
After putting the furniture back in place and cleaning the dishes from dinner, you lead Lando to the room you’ll be sharing during this little vacation. 
After a quick shower, Lando meets you on the bed, almost collapsing onto it due to the exhaustion he’s been in. 
There’s no need to exchange any words at this moment. You just pull Lando into you, watching as he rests his head on your chest and wraps his arm around your waist. You scratch the back of his neck, messing with his curls a bit as your other hand draws patterns on his bare back. 
After a minute, you feel Lan relax into you, watching as his breathing becomes shallow and steady. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep and you're thankful. He truly does need sleep, especially for the talk you two will have in the morning. 
You follow suit with Lando and fall asleep soon after him. It was the best sleep you’d had in ages. 
The sun shines through the thin, cotton curtains that cover the windows. Lando’s chest is warm against your back, his arm wrapped around your torso, keeping you close to him. The steady breathing lets you know he’s still sound asleep. You check the time, reading 7:24 am. It’s still a bit early so you decide to get some breakfast prepared for when Lando wakes up. 
You slowly and quietly move out of his arms, careful not to wake him as you know he won’t stay in bed if he knows you aren’t next to him. Once you’re out of bed, you brush your teeth and 
make your way to the kitchen. 
Breakfast is kept simple, just some overnight oats with some fruit and honey. After a few minutes of washing and cutting some fruit, you watch as Lando emerges from the bedroom, sleep lacing his features. 
“I didn’t hear you leave the bed.” he frowns at you. 
“Sorry, darling. I knew you were tired and I didn’t want to wake you so soon. But your timing is perfect! I've just finished preparing breakfast.” you smile gleefully, presenting him with a beautiful bowl of fruits and oats. 
The smile on his face is enough to brighten the whole room. “Thanks, baby. Looks amazing, as always.”, he walks around the kitchen counter to kiss you. 
Once he’s sat down and begun eating, you tell him your plan for the day, or his plan. 
“I was thinking we could go on that hiking trail I told you about. Getting some fresh air and some sun could be good for you. We could also talk a bit? About everything?”
You can tell he’s a bit uncomfortable from the way he stiffens when you mention wanting to talk. He was never really one for talking about himself and the things he’s struggling with. He much prefers listening but he knows he has to let you in a bit. 
Without looking up at you, he responds, “Yeah. Sounds good.” continuing to stuff his face with his oats. 
Once you two had finished breakfast, you put on your shoes and made your way to the hiking trail. 
During the beginning of your walk, you decided it would be best to get Lando to feel comfortable before jumping into the whole discussion of him and his mental health. So you begin by asking, “So, Tarkov, how have you been doing in it?”
He looks at you with genuine surprise, wondering why the fuck you’re asking about Tarkov when he knows it’s not your type of game. But, he answers anyway, “Erm, it’s turned into more shit and giggles if anything. A lot of messing with Max and them. Oh, the other day I stabbed Max’s character in the leg cause he stabbed my foot. And then I stabbed him again but his game was glitching so he couldn’t heal. He was actively dying and couldn’t stop it so I shot his guy. Let’s just say he wasn’t exactly joyful about that. But in my defense, he would’ve died anyway. It was a mercy kill.” he laughs to himself. 
After almost 45 minutes of walking, you guys stumbled upon a nice lake that was surrounded by trees. There was a shore with some large boulders so you led Lando there for a bit of a break from walking. 
You two sat there for a moment before you broke the silence to try and talk to him. 
“You know I love you right?” you ask him, watching him look down at his hands and start to fiddle them. 
“Yeah.” he responds quietly. 
“I want you to be okay, Lan. I can see you being torn apart by everyone and everything. I don’t want to watch you fall because you don’t deserve that.” “It’s hard, being me. I know I should be happy for everything that I have. I mean, I have money, a house, so many fucking cars that I don’t need, a loving family, and the most amazing and beautiful girlfriend. But, it feels like I’m drowning in everything with racing.” - he confesses, his tone is low, matching the way his reality makes him feel so small.
You scooch closer to him, taking his hand in yours, “I know it’s been hard. And you have the right to feel the way you do. You’re the person who gets the most shit right now with the media. They’re all twisting shit to fit their narrative. But you need to keep pushing back, don’t let them walk over you anymore.” “My mind is complicated. But when you’re here, next to me, it quiets a bit. I know that when I’m with you, everything is easy, like a million things can be thrown at me, but at the end of the day, if you’re here, I’ll be okay. I know I sort of broke you, someone I love so much. It’s all me, in my head. I burned us down and I’m sorry I did that to you. I don’t wanna lose you.” “You’ll never lose me, Lan. I’ll keep your hand in mine, until we’re food for the worms to eat, til our fingers decompose. This love of ours isn’t temporary. So I’m not gonna give up on us, on you.” - your hand touches the side of his face, bringing him to meet your eyes before you continue, “I’m still yours, even when you lose your mind and try breaking up with me a million times. None of this is your fault. You’re all I want.”
Tears begin to stream down his face as he leans his forehead against yours, “I just want you to know who I am, outside of the racing and the drama. I don’t want them to see me, just you, cause you’re the only one who understands me.”
You lift his chin so he can look in your eyes again as you say, “I know who you are. You’re the best thing that’s ever been mine, and I’m never letting you go again.”
-=+=-
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Tagged: y/n_l/n
landonorris baby, you showed me what living is for and i dont wanna hide anymore
Thank you for everything, my love. I wouldn’t be where I am without you 🧡
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User23 now wait a min ✋ how many chapters did i miss?
User54 i told y’all they were fine! No way a couple as in love as them would ever break up
User75 alexa, play ‘that should be me’ by justin bieber 🫠 User13 omg, and the taylor lyrics 😭 she loves taylor swift and he dedicated it to her 😭😭😭😭😭
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perfectlyoongi ¡ 5 months ago
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BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who asked you to draw a star for him to tattoo on his ring finger. you and Jimin met on a starry night, your first meeting was under the stars, the beginning of your relationship was blessed by the various celestial stars; it was obvious that Jimin thought of you in every shining light in the sky, in every ancient constellation — and who better to carve your eternal love than you? “it’s a promise, you know? a promise that we will love each other forever.”
BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who likes it when you comb his hair on slow winter mornings. still cuddling in gentle sleep, Jimin sat in your bathroom as he lazily watched you in the mirror; your hands moved delicately, your fingers already knew every strand of Jimin's hair, wrapping themselves in his hair with expertise and precision, always leaving him satisfied with your work. “do whatever, i trust you. just let me sleep for a moment.”
BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who buys matching onesies for your home movie dates. an extensive and colorful collection filled your wardrobe, tails and ears and hoods filling as much space as they could; in the comfort of the warm fabric, in each other's arms, with your snacks, your night went on for hours, only stopping when your eyes decided to create their own fantastic movies. “today we can use the stitch one and watch a disney movie. oh! a new one came out recently. come, lie down beside me.”
BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who gives you a bouquet of lego flowers on your first anniversary. why buy real flowers that would be consumed by time, taking with them the proof of Jimin's love for you? the lego flowers were eternal, resistant but endowed with a delicacy that made them always beautiful — just like your relationship with Jimin. “and when a new flower comes out, i will buy it and make it and give it to you because our love is always growing and will never wither.”
BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who jumps and screams and hugs you and kisses you every time his photocard appears in the album he gifted you. whenever Jimin gave you a new album, his heart fluttered with anticipation, while his eyes searched for reactions on your features to the photocard you hid from him; and, oh, when he saw himself, it was as if your love was confirmed by the universe, as if that photograph was proof of the veracity of your love. “i knew my photocard was going to come out! it’s destiny to be with me forever, seriously!”
BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who likes to run around the house chasing you, listening to your excited screams and threatening a tickle attack. Jimin felt like a child by your side, always pure and safe, and so his most playful side came out in a small and fun tickle fight. “come here! don't run away from me! i just want to show my love for you.”
BOYFRIEND!JIMIN who said he loved you when you arrived home after a sudden rain soaked you from head to toe. the rain had caught you by surprise when you were getting home and now, in the comfort of your walls, with water still dripping from your hair, and clothes and laughter filling the room, Jimin just looked at you and as soon as he saw how happiness illuminated you, he just confessed. “liking you is so easy when you are simply divine. i love you.”
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lixie-phoria ¡ 1 year ago
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ੈ✩‧ ➛ han jisung thinks he's subtle as he pines over you
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pairing : han x gn reader ; genre : fluff | warnings : none ; word count : 0.8k words
summary : han jisung couldn't be more subtle as he pined after you. ranging from eagerly buying your merchandise to watching your favorite shows just so he has more reasons to talk to you. it would've been adorable if it hadn't been going on for so long.
chan's ver. | hyunjin's ver. | jeongin's version | felix's ver. | lee know's ver. | changbin's ver.
if there was one thing han jisung would never judge overly zealous kpop stans for, was their passion. Never for the way they would viciously defend their bias or spend an unnecessary amount of money when trading photocards. He would never question their excitement. He couldn't. Not when he was on the same boat as them.
You were a rookie idol, so new to the world of kpop, so full of life and love for what you did, never letting the fame get to your head. Nobody could blame han for falling for you, really. The poor boy was so in love it was comical. He thought he was subtle with the way he was always steaming your music and buying your merch. He thought nobody would notice the secret fan account he ran for you on Twitter and Instagram. Han jisung thought he was a mastermind for the way he "skilfully" kept his crush a secret. But the boy could fool absolutely nobody, not his members nor yours. yes things were hard because of JYPs dating ban for rookie idols but did that stop him from being delusional? absolutely not.
the members caught him multiple times giggling to your instagram posts or marveling at your vocals during a performance. it was like watching a teenage boy fall in love for the first time, complete with the dreamy sighs and feet kicking.
when changbin caught jisung eagerly watching a show in their dorm early one morning, he wasn't that surprised. but when he found out it was a romance show? that raised a few questions because nearly everyone knew han was more of a horror lover. that was until the older man found out the shows name. of course han jisung was watching the show you had recently revealed in an interview you were obsessed with. the excited grin on his face and slight furrow between his brows as he concentrated on the plot would've been adorable if changbin hadn't been so exasperated. This was the seventh k-drama jisung was watching for you. just so he could find more reasons to talk to you, as if he didn't spend nearly half his time texting you either ways.
"Enjoying the story, han?"
of course han hadn't noticed changbin walk into his room. not when he was dutifully remembering every moment playing on the screen so he could talk to you about it later.
"yeah it's a nice show."
"i bet the person who recommended it is real nice too, huh?"
"hyung!"
changbin wished he could take a picture of the blush spreading across jisung's face and down his neck and send it to you with a message in big bold letters reading THIS MAN IS IN LOVE WITH YOU PLEASE ACKOWLEDGE HIM!!! but jisung would go wild so he chose the safer option of leaning again the younger boy's door frame, a teasing smirk playing at his lips.
"do you like this show better than the one you finished watching last week, which was also recommended by y/n?"
"i am not watching these shows just because y/n likes them."
"oh ok, so you're not going to text them about this episode the instant you're done watching it?"
"nope."
"good! so you don't mind if i text them about it instead? because i just finished the show last night."
it was a lie, obviously, but han was immediately scrambling up from his position on the bed, trying to convince changbin against it while trying not to blow his cover.
"just tell them you like them, jisung, y/n's not gonna avoid you for it."
"chan hyung just finished teasing me about this too, please don't start again."
changbin wished he could record han whining his denials too, because he couldn't believe how whipped someone could be.
that was until jisung's phone vibrated with a notification, and his disbelief only grew as he watched his member's eyes light up. jisung kept only your notifications on, so it was obvious who had texted him. all thoughts of changbin were forgotten as jisung eagerly read whatever you had sent, typing back his response immediately, earning a snort from changbin. jisung was known among their friend group for being a ghoster, but of course he was texting you back immediately. changbin knew he wasn't going to get any more responses when han didn't even look up from the screen.
"you better confess soon or im going to text them from your phone one day."
"you wouldn't dare!"
"i most certainly would."
changbin cackled as he left the younger boy shouting indignantly from his room. he knew the seven of them would breathe a sigh of relief only when han finally came clear to you about his feelings. until then, all they could hope for was the boy mustering the courage required to do so quick.
Šlixie-phoria, 2023
tags : @lethallyprotected @dreamingaboutjisung @selcayuri @bangchansbae @aak22 @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba (send an ask to be added/removed!)
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makuzume ¡ 2 months ago
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Toge Accidentally Uses His Cursed Speech on You (Part 4)
🔅content: Light angst/light comfort; gn!reader; no pronoun mentions
🔅synopsis: It's been 2 days since you last seen Toge... How do you go about this? What are you supposed to do? You wonder how to address the situation at hand...
🔅a/n: "What happened to posting part 4 soon" I ended up scraping the entire part 4 draft and remade it because I didn't like it :'D Thank you everyone for being so patient and putting up w my bs aaa Let me know if you want to be in the tags list and enable ur tagging :3
[JJK Masterlist] [Part 1 & 2] [Part 3]
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🔅Word Count: 2.2K
"...Should I... open it...?" You asked yourself quietly, looking down on your phone as you stared at the multiple notifications you received from Toge.
13 missed calls
31 new messegaes
All unopened, all unanswered.
Slowly, you hover your finger over to his chat box, however, you hesitate- quickly shutting off your phone and plopping down on the soft mattress where you sat.
While the rest of the Okkotsu family went out to watch the movies, you decided to stay in the house by yourself. "You should come...! I'm sure it will help lift your spirits." Mrs. Okkotsu offered, to which you kindly declined her offer.
You figured you needed some time to be alone for now, but the lack of presence in the house ended up cauing a deafening silence to fill the halls, creating more opportunities for you to overthink the recent events between you and Toge.
'...I wonder... what did he say...'
'...why am I so scared to read it...?'
Over the past two days, you've been comfortably staying over Yuta's family home in the city. But since Yuta wasn't there at the moment, his parents and sister have been kindly accomodating you the entire time.
You were incredibly embarassed and reluctant to stay over, afraid of becoming only a nuisance to the Okkotsu family, especially since current situation between you and Toge was not at all very dire, just an arguement between two lovers.
Fortunately, Yuta and his mother were understanding and very insistent that you were welcome for as long as you'd like. Afterall, you were also one of Yuta's closest friends.
Trying your best to not cause them too much trouble, you help out with minor chores like the dishes, setting up the table, throwing out the trash- but each time you do so, you were met with gentle scolding.
"We told you to rest! You're still very hurt!"
"No no no, you're a guest, put that down!"
"We are not letting you wash the plates. Go back to bed and lie down for a nap! We'll bring you some snacks later."
"Nonsense! You are not a burden! You are a good friend of Yuta, and he asked us to take care of you, so sit down and don't worry about us."
Though that did seem to reduce the amount of guilt you felt, you were still rather embarassed for staying over someone else's family home just to hide from an ongoing dispute with Toge. So, you figured you shouldn't overstay your welcome, at least.
You look at your phone once again, staring at Toge's contact name as you remember your last encounter with him.
Staring at the ceiling above, you allow the memories from the incident flood your mind once more- remembering the sorrow, the pain, the sadness....
The entire time you knew Toge, he had always felt like the safest person to be around with, and you trusted him more than anyone- be it about your safety or your feelings. Naturally, the shock from accidentally getting cursed would shaken you up quite a lot.
You were badly hurt, both physically and emotionally.
And even for a short moment, you even felt afraid of him for the first time.
A feeling you knew would devastate him if he knew.
As shy as you were to admit it, all you did the entire day after the incident was quiety cry inside the guest bedroom in Yuta's home.
You can say that you rather had mixed feelings about the whole thing. Not a moment has passed in which you weren't thinking about it.
At first, it was shock, then fear, followed by pain before sadness, eventually leading to worry- the feeling you were experiencing right now.
Why 'worry'? You think to yourself, curious as to why there was this sense of longing to see him despite the accident.
It was a strange feeling in your chest. Most certainly, you were still very much upset and hurt about what he had done to you, but still-
"...I wonder how he must feel right now..." You hug the pillow nearest to you closer to your chest, unable to stray away the concern you felt for him.
Perhaps it was the way he looked at you the moment he misused his speech on you. The way Toge's eyes expressed so much shock, the way his voice was filled with so much guilt and fear... You have never seen him act in such a way before, especially considering the fact that he was always the more calm and composed one between the two of you.
You couldn't get the desperate tone of his voice out of your head, and you frequently find yourself vividly remembering the panicked expression he displayed on his face.
"...He must be worried..." You whisper to the pillow you held tightly, your eyelids closing as you replay the events of the accident.
More than anyone, you understood him the most, and you knew that this must be really messing up his mind right now.
It was one of his deepest fears, hurting someome he loves unintentionally with his speech, and you knew how deep this sort of wound would cut him on the inside.
More so, there was also the fact that Toge had personally witnessed the tragic events that happened to his allies in Shibuya... not to mention the fact that he had also been heavily pinning the blame on himself for the death of innocent civilians' lives.... lives which he felt responsible of protecting, all because he led them to take shelter to the same area Sukuna had unleashed his Malevolent Shrine.
'Truly...' you thought.
'this must be really messing up his mind right now....'
You turn over to your side, eyes staring blankly into the empty air in front of you.
"...He was distant and acting different from what happened in Shibuya afterall... I know he didn't mean to hurt me..." you whispered quietly, trying to think of how to address the situation.
You sat up, your hand firmly grasping your phone, a hesitant but concerned tone evident in your voice "I... don't want to make him feel any worse than he already does..."
Without a doubt, Toge was always so good to you. So protective, so understanding, so kind, so loving...
He was always there for you at your lowest points... and you never even had the chance to return such comfort to him before, so you think to yourself:
'...it's my turn.'
Your previous attempt to aid his sorrow didn't end up so well, but that's why you were willing to try again; To try again for him.
He probably hasn't been consoled ever since the incindent in Shibuya either. You, Panda, Yuta, or even Maki hadn't heard from him the entire time, and that's considering that all of you are his closest friends.
You ponder about it, and then you realize he probably wouldn't have ended up hurting you by accident or behaving so distant towards everyone if he had just allowed himself to be comforted- to be held and be told 'it's okay.'
...And you couldn't help but want to be that person who does that for him.
The more you thought about this, the more you wanted to see him.
You already released all the shock, hurt, and sadness for the past few days through a few weeping sessions in the small guest room before, and you think it's about time to come out of hiding.
You try to gain back your composure.
"...I wonder where he is... I hope... he's not pushing himself." You glance at your wallpaper, looking at a picture of Toge holding up a silly little peace sign while he sat next to a cute little dog you randomly met on the street.
You couldn't help but chuckle softly for a moment, then, your smile slowly fades back to form a serious expression on your face.
You miss the smile in his eyes like in the photo.
The idea of him in such sadness, worry, and pain ended up hurting you just as much as well.
"...I should talk to him."
So, you unlock your phone, open messages, and look for his contact name once again.
His contact nickname and his silly little photo appear.
'Bonito Flakes'
"...There."
Just when you were about to tap his name, you paused.
"Uh... wait... what should I say...?"
You pull back your thumb from the screen, suddenly having a bit of a panic on how to address the situation.
"..How do I reach out to him...? What... did he text me..? Is he upset with me? Is he looking for me...?"
His last text was from yesterday night, so you weren't sure what should be the best mood to approach him at this moment.
Just then, as if fate had timed this moment perfectly, a notification suddenly pops up on the top of your screen.
1 new message from Bonito Flakes
You gasped, completely taken aback from seeing his name.
'Wait... I'm not ready...!!'
You panicked slightly, causing you to drop your phone on the hard wood floor by accident, a loud thump echoing throughout the room. Fortunately, the Okkotsu family still hasn't returned from their outing yet, otherwise, you'd give them another reason to be worried about you.
You sigh, picking it back up as you lightly shook your head to gain back your composure.
As you check your sceen, you see another text from Toge come in.
Then another.
And another.
It made you slightly nervous but curious as to what his multiple texts were saying right now, and it sort of made you even more worried to know what he sent.
Is he sad? Does he need you? Is he just reaching out? Is he leaving the school? Does he want to distance himself from you?
"I'll... wait a little..."
Ultimately, you decided to let him finish sending his messages before you view it.
He sent quite a handful of texts, and it took a while before the messages stopped coming in. But just to be sure, you waited for a few minutes in case he had any late follow ups.
"I'll.... wait a little more..." You whisper to yourself as you stare at the phone in front of you, hoping to view his messages during a time when he's offline- You just wanted to make sure there was enough time for you to process and react to his texts without the pressure of him waiting for your response.
But the green dot next to his profile picture was still lit up, meaning, that he would be able to immediately see your replies the moment you send it.
But you would prefer he only sees it AFTER you're done sending your responses.
Sighing heavily, you whisper once more '...I guess I'll wait again...'
You check again after a few minutes, it was still green. So you wait again.
More time had passed but still- the green dot remained.
You wait again.
It was all you could think about for the past few hours as you move back and forth from checking your phone to lying down, staring into nothing...
Untul finally, at hour three, the green dot turns dim.
And with that, you were left with no excuse to delay opening your inbox any longer. "...alright... here we go.... I guess..."
With a hefty sigh and a single tap of your finger, you open his inbox.
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Your eyes widened suddenly, immediate shock at the realization.
With a quickened pace, you hurridly limped towards the nearest window, the cast on your leg creating a slight scratching sound as you drag it across the floor.
Pulling away the curtains, you scan the street below in search for the white haired boy.
You squint your eyes slightly, trying to adjust your eyes to the darkness of the night.
Then, you see him.
"He... he's still there...?"
On the opposite side of the street, there sat Toge on the small pavement across from Yuta's house.
His head rested on his arm and his head hung low, perhaps taking a bit of a nap as he waited for your reply.
A wave of guilt suddenly washes over you as you realize how long you've made him wait out in the cold for a single reply.
You text him.
Toge???? Why did you wait for me?
You look drenched, what happened???
How long have you been there???
But your messages didn't seem to get through, not showing a mark of it being delivered.
"His phone battery must've died...."
Instictively, you hurried out the room with a more detemined expression, carefully treading the stairs with your injured leg, and rushed out the door.
Unintentionally, the noise of opening the door a little too quickly echoed across the dead silent street, casuing Toge to immediately jolt himself awake.
He made eye contact with you while he remained seated across the street, shocked at your sudden appearance.
Embarassed for startling him, you slightly lose your confidence and shy away from his gaze, a small lump in your throat preventing you from voicing out any words.
Toge stood up slowly, his eyes widen but his chest beated out of nervousness.
He doesn't expect anything positve, but still, he remained hopeful, as much as he felt like he didn't deserve you.
"...um...." you started, hoping to break the akward silence that filled the air.
"...I-...."
"....."
"....p-...please, come in...."
....
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[Back to JJK Masterlist] [Part 1 & 2] [Part 3] [Part 5]
a/n: So happy I finally finished this :')))))))) Shoutout to anon that poked me abt this that genuinely helped me lolol I just really needed a little push to finish this
NOTE classes are back ^^ and I'm doing some part-time comms sooo I'll be a lil busy but ofc I won't abandon this I luv this series <3
Credits to @makuzume on Tumblr || Do not steal, translate, modify, reupload my works on any platform.
tags list: @zhenyuuu @cowcreamers @mushroommorgue @yunho-leeknow @lemonnotade @exodiam @an-ever-angry-bi @cirieria @chifuyufirstwife @strxbxrrylover @sturns55
211 notes ¡ View notes
dolene ¡ 9 months ago
Text
OH SO DRAMATIC!
pairing: george russell x reader
summary: who knows that his crush over a girl can lead to this?
content warnings: her face claim is keilani lizbeth, britcedes moment, dramatic george, silly concept, cursing, bad summary because i can't summarize this😭
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yourusername
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liked by caileespaeny, mercedesamgf1 and 397,571 others
yourusername How's weather?
view all 3,722 comments
georgerussell63 That face shows it's raining.
username how is she always looks so flawless even with a very minimal make up?
username does the coffee taste good?
  ⤷ yourusername Let my face describes everything. 🤷🏽‍♀️😌
username i can't believe i've never seen a man w her except for her brother
username SIS WHERE IS UR BF???
oliviarodrigo ok now i want some hot chocolate bc of u
  ⤡ yourusername Buy it thennn!
username It's weird how Mercedes liked this but not the one who commented...
⤡ username george russell admin era is confirmed ig?
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“enough with scrolling through her posts and fantasizing about it everyday, mate. it's not healthy if you do this everyday.” lewis chuckled, patted his teammate's back as george just rolled his eyes at him.
“so, who's this girl?” he continues when he finally found his spot to sit on. his brows going up and down to sign him that he's intrigued. “my friend...? no—i mean we're not. but i've already hit her on instagram, and she responded. she's quite cute, i guess?”
“you guess? ” he arched one brow at him, clearly not impressed with his answer.
he scoffed, “so what am i going to do, then? asking her to go out with me and embarrass myself even more?”
“wait, you have embarrass yourself before?” lewis's smile becoming wider now and george is growing more irritated at his amusement over his miserable state. “you're not helping!” he groans, his phone on his hand is still showing your recent post with his comment being displayed on the very top.
he already imagined the worse when he knew lewis know about his infatuation towards you. from the constant teasing, to the point where he imagined that you'll be embarrassed to have him as your boyfriend. it's making him crazy.
DING! the phone on his hand buzzed as it let out a loud notification sound, making lewis showed his smile once again at him.
he too can't lie that he had put his expectation to the very top, praying that you'll notice or for at least liking his comment to even show that you know him. he is that desperate.
he sighed, whispering to lewis, “d'you think this is the time?”
“at what time?” lewis asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“time for her to answer my comment," george beamed and lewis rolled his eyes
“you're very dramatic. just open your phone and see what she replies. or likes, or whatever, the important thing is just open it first!”
“okay, okay, relax.” he said as he take a deep breath, as if he wants to do something fairly dangerous when lewis is just watching him doing all of these long steps, making him snatched the phone from his hand, making george let out a ‘hey’ as lewis snatched the phone.
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  ⤡ yourusername georgerussell63 Damn, I shouldn't put that face on if i knew you'd see.
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lewis being the one who sees the notification first is glaring at the text, making george curious and ended up taking back his phone from lewis's hand.
“mate, she replied to your comment,” lewis said, eyes still wide even after the phone has been taken from his hand. by hearing that, george with his dramatic nature can't help but to sigh at his saying: “yeah right, shakira also replied to me.” which makes lewis shakes his head, “that's irrelevant, dude.” he light slapped his shoulder at the end, making george huff a breath after the direct slap at his shoulder.
“oh just open it!” lewis exclaimed, his tone becoming impatient now. his patience has coming thin because of george and he'll definitely going to blame george if their relationship won't work at the end.
so he opened the app after him, and checked the notification center and found your username with his mentioned. upon seeing that, he can't help but to shriek at lewis who's near him, causing him to closed his eyes at the loudness of george's shriek.
“I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS! SHE REPLIED!” making lewis smiled at george, patting him by the back which lead their bro-embrace. “happy for you, mate.” lewis replied to him and he nod at him with the smile is still visible in his face.
“so now go and get her.”
“i will, surely.”
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yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, jackchampion, and 499,801 others
yourusername Seen someone cute today, delete l8r 😌🤫
view all 12,782 comments
username tell us whooo
username WHYS SHE GIGGLE LIKE THAT
username girl don't do it, we all knew it's gon be wrong
jackchampion Stunning!!
username ain't no way it's a random ppl on the street
username omg what if she likes a footballer?
  ⤡ username BELLINGHAM???????
username Oh damn I hope it's not a hockey player
username one day she's gonna date an f1 driver
  ⤡ username or is she even...
  ⤡ username OMG IT'S GEORGE WASNT IT??
username jacobelordi going to come for u
username I know she gonna lovin some london boy 😄
username sooooo jack champion....
georgerussell63 I bet you stole that hat from Paddington
  ⤡ yourusername I would never! He's my best boy.
username okay i think y/n and george kinda brewing now
  ⤡ username why am i stanning them tho
  ⤡ username My converter ass said i need to stan them, help me to come back to jacoby/n era
caileespaeny Ooo fancy hat!
  ⤷ yourusername Thankkk youu bbg😗😗
username why r u so cool???
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yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, daniel3.jpg, and 328,749 others
yourusername If I told you that I crashed for a bit, I hope you believe me.
view all 1,679 comments
georgerussell63 YOU HAD A WHAT?!
georgerussell63 Y/N ANSWER THE PHONE
georgerussell63 ANSWERRRR
username Omg George relax pls
username wait how is he having her number?
  ⤡ username BF GEORGE CONFIRMED?
  ⤡ daniel3.jpg he's having too much evidence, i fear that i think about it too.
  ⤡ username RIIIGHTT???
yourusername I'm okay Y'all, George is being dramatic again, but I swear I'm okay.
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sure george has your number on his phone by now, thanks to all of his (and lewis's) effort of bribing your best friend to even told him to hit you up by himself, and fortunately it works.
and hit you up he did. starting up strong with a simple hi, then you answered, and the rest is history. he liked every topic you brought up, and vice versa. or at least that's what he thought.
but for today's situation is quite different from the previous day where he can still share a bit of a videos with you, you said your goodbye for a while as he sim race, and then his phone ring from the instagram notification he has for you.
but that time he doesn't really mind that, thinking that it just probably sort of a promotion notification from an app or something, but then after a few while he checked and found it was your new post: truth be told that he put the brightest smile on his face, excited to see your newest post.
oh how the table have turn, and as if it hit him, his face changed 180° to worry;
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yourusername If I told you that I crashed for a bit, I hope you believe me.
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he knows that you can't drive, so why bother to even know what's going to happen with you and a car?
his mind is going crazy, how come did you even manage to post that on instagram if you had a little crash?
so he called you, missed call. try to call you again, missed call again. and so on until he thought that he have called you for the 50th times until he commented under your post to answer his call. not caring about anything what people are going to say about him.
the rest of his 25 minutes he spent to think about you and your well-being, and it's totally payed off when you called him, facetiming on the ER. with your face looking as chill as ever with a bandage on the some sorts of your body, and then him with his face looking like he's ready to jump whenever he's ready.
“hey.” you greet, camera showing the bandage that covered the half of your lower body.
“HEY?! WHAT D'YOU MEAN BY HEY?” he squeaked, his voice pitchy like he's just swallowed a rubber duck before he's talking to you. “what happened there?”
“just a scratch, nothing more.” you shrugged slowly, your body's still rigid after they gave you antiseptic to clean the scratch.
“if you concerned, trust me that i'm okay.” but he shakes his head, “you shouldn't get near into the driving seat!” he said, voice cracking a little bit, sounded like he's in the bridge of tearing up.
“i should've had a better driving instructor,”
“DRIVING INSTRUCTOR? babe, i'm an f1 driver, i can be more than just a driving instructor.”
“i know, i just want to annoy you.” you smiled when you said that, making him mirroring your movement. “but are you okay though? be serious.” he said, and you chuckled. “i am, yes, i'm okay. so stop being so dramatic because i'm okay now.”
“well okay then, take care.” he sees you nod, and he smiled at you one more time before hanging off.
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georgerussell63
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liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, and 770,497 others
georgerussell63 After ER special 🩺🚑
view all 13 comments
username WAIT WHAT THE FUCJ
danielricciardo i knew it
username for fucks sake i expected this to even hapen, but why am i gasping abt this too?
username y'all r dating?? why am i just realize it just rn
  ⤡ username we've been blind this whole time
username so the crash is real?
  ⤡ yourusername Yes it is.
lewishamilton FINALLY
  ⤡ username i think lewis is the one who caused the crash
  ⤡ landonorris same
  ⤡ username lewis you knew dis?
  ⤡ danielricciardo i'm afraid they cooperate for this
  ⤷ username thank u detective daniel 👌😌
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436 notes ¡ View notes
imbored1201 ¡ 10 months ago
Note
Happy new year!
Would you do a barca x teen!reader?
Like they're feeling down/depressed and clingy for a few days because it's someone they cared about death anniversary? (maybe they end up one day just crying and clinging to someone - like alexia or lucy, instead of training?)
That Time Of The Year
A/N: speaking of New Years, hope the New Year started off well for everyone❤️
Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader
Mostly a Lucy Bronze x Teen Reader
Words: 1,777
Warnings: Talks of drunk driver, talks of dead best friend
You hated January; it was supposed to be a month of excitement for a new year. You couldn't see it that way, though. It was the same month your childhood best friend died.
She was the only one who actually supported you and believed you would make it to your dream team, Barcelona. Now you were, but she didn't get to watch. She went to every game when you played with Man City.
As the new year hit, Alexia noticed how you got clingier. It started with the little things, like you wanting to eat lunch with her or go out to a restaurant together. It was odd since she was the one who always had to drag you to do that with her.
Then you would sneak into her bed to cuddle at night. Sometimes she would wake up to you doing it, and she would just open her arms for you to hold you, or sometimes she would wake up to pressure on her chest, and it was always you.
————
She had questioned you about it, but you just told her nothing was wrong. Which was a lie, and Alexia hated when you lied to her.
"You ready?" She asked after having to force you to get up after you once again snuck into her bed. You always claimed it was harder to get out of her bed since it was way comfier. You nodded, grabbing a banana and walking out the door.
Alexia was able to see that you were about to break; she even texted a lot of the older girls to keep an eye on you before she dropped you off for training.
She's tried to help you, even being straight up with you and telling you she knew you weren't okay. She even made her mom talk to you; you, being stubborn, refused to speak of the situation and even stayed at Lucy's house for a day to get away from Alexia's hassling.
————
She was glad to see Lucy waiting for you as she pulled up, giving you a kiss on the forehead and telling you to be careful, as she always did.
"Let's get to work, kid." Lucy was worried when she got that text from Alexia. She understood why now. You were always energetic during training; now you seem to have no energy at all. Something was wrong.
You made no effort to greet the girls, heading straight to your locker and changing. The girls patted your back as they went out to the field as a sign that they were there for you.
————
Aitana kept sending you perfect through balls during a drill, and you couldn't seem to finish them. It was making you frustrated, as you apologized to her every time.
She waved it off, realizing whatever was happening to you was starting to affect how you played now.
"Y/N, come here." Jonatan called for you, and you sighed in annoyance. You knew he was probably going to tell you off for how bad you were training and probably even bench you. That's what your mind was saying. It was true what they said, your mind was your biggest enemy.
————
He led you to his office. "Look, I know I'm doing horrible, so please don't-" "Y/N, this isn't about training," he said softly. You looked at him, confused.
"This is about your mood recently; there's been a lot of concern about you. Everyone can see something is bothering you, and we just want to help." Now you were extra annoyed.
You didn't need more people meddling in your business. First Alexia, then the feeling of the team walking on eggshells around you. Now even your coach was getting involved.
"Nothing is wrong," you said harshly, immediately regretting that. You cursed yourself for talking to your coach like that. He didn't seem mad, though; in fact, he seemed more worried.
"I can't do this," you told him, rushing out of his office. You were going full speed back to the locker room when you ran straight into Lucy.
"There you are; I was looking for you," she said, holding you by your shoulders to steady you. She frowned seeing your tears. "What happened?"
You tackled her into a hug; you couldn't hold it in anymore. You clinged tightly to her as you sobbed; everything you had been holding in for a week was finally coming out.
"Love, you'll make yourself sick; take deep breaths," you listened to her, trying your best to calm yourself down. Lucy continued to rub your back and whisper soothing words. Even trying to make dad jokes to cheer you up.
————
That's how Jonatan found the two of you. You were in Lucy's lap, sitting and leaning against the wall as she stroked your hair and wiped your tears.
Jonaton's eyes softened as he looked down at you and Lucy. You looked up at him, scared that he was going to tell you off for storming off.
"Take her home; she needs to rest." Lucy nodded and coaxed you to get up. You held onto her tightly as she led you back into the locker room.
"But training," you rubbed your eyes. "Training doesn't matter right now; come on, we'll get ice cream." You smiled a bit at that. Lucy always joked that you would trade her for a scoop of ice cream because of how much you loved it.
————
After getting your ice cream, the both of you sat in Lucy's car in silence. "Want me to take you back home?" She asked, "Can we just sit here for a little more?" She quickly nodded and continued to eat.
After another minute of silence, she spoke up again. "Do you want to talk about it?" You let out a sad sigh. You knew you would have to tell someone eventually. Lucy was the best person to tell because she's known you longer than anyone else. She trained you while you two played in City together that year. Then you moved to Barcelona with her, and Alexia took over the parenting.
"Remember that girl that I would always be walking with after training?" She nodded. "Tiny Blondy." You rolled your eyes at the nickname the team had given her.
"Yes, tiny blondy, we used to watch all the Barcelona games together since we were 7. It was always my dream to play here; you already knew that part, though." She nodded and listened, giving you a supportive smile.
"She was really the only one that supported it; even mom and dad didn't think I'd be able to. Towards the end of the season before I came here, I got the offer, but mom and dad didn't want me to go to Spain by myself. I called her crying, but she was eating dinner with her family, and her mom was very strict on family time, so she was never able to get out of it, but I heard her start an argument over the fact that I really needed her and she had to leave."
"Wait, your parents weren't going to let you come here?" She immediately shut up when she saw the look on your face. "Sorry"
"She didn't listen to her mom's words and came to my house. We talked all night, and we were even going to have a sleepover, but her mom came to our house angry and demanded she go back. My friend listened, and her last words to me were, 'You better go to Barcelona', a drunk driver hit them on their way back home, my friend died, and her mom was in a coma."
"Y/N," Lucy said, leaning over to wipe the tears that were starting to fall out again. "It was my fault, Lucy; if I hadn't overreacted to my parents telling me no to my dream team, I would have probably been able to sign for it when I was actually an adult," you sniffled, hiding your face in your hands.
"It's the main reason my parents even signed those papers for me to play here; they wanted me to get away from everything. Her dad was going crazy, blaming me for everything. He came to my house four times. My dad even fought him once because he had followed me all the way home from practice, saying nasty things to me."
Lucy couldn't hold back anymore either; tears started to fall down her face now. She leaned over and pulled you into a tight hug.
"I got you," she whispered, wiping her own tears. She needed to stay strong for you.
"She didn't get to watch me, Luce; she said she wanted to be the first person to buy my Barcelona jersey; she wasn't able to do that." You cried harder; all Lucy could do was hold you.
"Look at me, kid," she gently grabbed your cheeks. "Nothing is your fault. That man took his grieving out on you, and he shouldn't have. You're a kid; you're allowed to feel disappointed over not being able to play for your dream team; you're allowed to call someone for advice and comfort.
You nodded at her words. "Everything will be okay; nothing was your fault." You wanted to cry more at her words; those words were all you wanted to hear someone say to you.
And the fact that Lucy was saying them made it extra special. You knew Lucy would never lie to you, so if everything was going to be okay, you believed her.
————
Over the next couple of weeks, Alexia got you help. You were seeing someone at least once a week, or if you really needed them. You were also able to go back home for the first time and finally get some alone time at your friend's grave to say your final words.
Her mom was fine, but her parents ended up moving away. There was some relief, but also a guilty feeling in your mind. Relieved that you wouldn't have to be scared about encountering the dad every time you came back home. You felt guilty for feeling that way though. You understood why he blamed you, and you wish you could take it all back. Sometimes you even think about what life would have been like if you had turned down Barcelona's contract and stayed with City without throwing a tantrum.
Maybe in another universe, she would have still been in your City jersey, being the loudest there, and maybe you both could have moved to Barcelona at 18. She wanted to get into sports journalism to follow you, but once again.
Maybe in another universe.
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