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honeybunnyale · 3 months ago

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What Could Have Been l J.M.

w.c.: 7.1k

t.w.: Angst, fluff, Protective (Possessive) Joel, Descriptions of violence, eventual smut in next part, No age gap between Joel and Reader, Reader is also implied to be of Latin descent, Ellie is silly and angsty

a/n: Please read warnings for all of my works before reading. 18+ only!

Summary: Stumbling upon a ranch house, Ellie and Joel start to become attached to simple living. (What Could Have Been Series)

They initially thought it was abandoned. The home was overrun with vines and trees, branches already threatening to break through the windows. But there was a path towards it, trilled dirt and subtle stones hidden in mud.

That made Joel cautious.

Enough to push her behind him, staring at the metal plate hung up by a cable, swinging from the half-bent screw hammered into the door.

A haphazard ‘WELCOME IF SUPPLIES OR MEDICAL ATTENTION NEEDED’, each letter becoming shorter than the one before as if they were coming up with the sentence as they wrote and they had to make up for the space.

Ellie rushed beside him, the house was quiet, there were no signs of anyone being around. No signs of life by the way the door was slightly open.

"Ellie‐"

His fingertips barely graze the collar of her jacket as she shoves past him.

"Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

She runs up the steps of the porch as she always does with these sorts of situations. Her chest fills with excitement when she peeks in through the windows, wiping off the dust with her palm, coughing from the way it got in her mouth and stuck to her lips.

She sticks her tongue out as she turns, sputtering as she wipes with her sleeve, stepping down the steps, smiling through her grimace of disgust. Despite the slight embarrassment she feels pride for proving Joel’s paranoiac intuition wrong.

"It's empty,” she states proudly.

He chuckles. He hasn't smiled these past few days, too stressed with keeping track of bullets, of how far they've gone, how many cans of food they've had and how much water they had to ration.

He didn't think to check the front door for himself. At least not quick enough.

He curses himself when Ellie went in headfirst, falling to the ground as a shadow grabbed onto her arm roughly to shove her down. Then, a barrel of a rifle was aimed at his chest.

Ellie was on the floor groaning behind the figure.

The pistol in his hand was steady, his face set as his eyes flicker to the girl and back to the rifle in your hand.

You stare him down, looking over every part of his body. He was covered completely. He takes an unthinking step forward and you stop him with a sharp whistle that resounds around the room. It made him wince, his already tense posture stiffening in surprise.

You made him freeze up like a wild animal, a loud and high pitched noise bringing distraction and confusion while also placing you in a position of dominance and threat. His jaw tenses and his eyes narrow at the nudge of your gun.

"I don't want to shoot you. Tell me your business here."

The sharp blade at your throat startles you, but you keep your arm steady. You have the urge to smile, she was trained well. A sense of pride for her was overtaken by irritation quickly, she nipped at your skin, hot headed as she pressed the blade on you harshly.

"Slit my throat, little girl, and I'll shoot him. There's no camps around, friendly at least, and he'll die before you're able to get through to my supplies."

She pauses at that, he can see her eyes widen, a slight fear that breaks his heart. They hadn't thought of that, everyone is always after Ellie, they threaten her life to get to him .

What's worse than being left alone in the world, no one to take care of you? Especially when you got so attached and you were so young .

"You need help, you stand down. You don't, you leave. "

It felt as if minutes passed by, Joel’s eyes jumped between yours and Ellie's. He nods for her to let you go so subtly you thought the shadow casted from the light outside had briefly swayed.

Despite the silent command Ellie took a moment to finally step away, shoving the knife into her pocket roughly, and grumbling under her breath. You stay still, narrowing your eyes when his brows furrow, still panicked and tense.

You lower your arm first, a few beats pass, and he lowers his as well. That was stupid, you thought. He could have killed you for all you knew, he could have motioned to the girl to stab you in the back.

Your breath shakes. You sigh and he could see the tears gather along your water line as you rub your temples and shake your head lightly. You almost see stars from how tightly you press your eyes closed.

You mutter a curse under your breath and finally look between them speculatively.

"So, what do you need?"

…

You watch her diligently, always asking if she was fine, if she feels sick in any way. The sun was out, the river a mile south of your small ranch house, beaming with life.

You flip the clothes inside out, repeating the same process you've done for your other shirts. The soap washes down the river as you rock on your knees, the fabric squelching against smooth stone.

You watch amused as she kicks water, directly followed by a scolding by Joel for not finishing her chores.

She coughs into her hand, looking in your direction pointedly. You could see the frizz of her hair shine from the sun. Like a halo of red and orange around her head.

You sit up on the tips of your toes, your hands at your knees, waiting for her to finish her ‘act’.

"I think... I'm feeling..."

She coughs again, this time with more flare, hunching over herself and placing a shaking hand over her face.

"sick."

"Ellie," Joel warns. You chuckle and she smiles at the sound.

She rolls her eyes and continues with her task.

She always amuses you, always bringing a smile to your face. Her sarcasm was hilarious, and it kept you on your toes.

It was a far cry from the girl with the pocketknife against your throat. You reminisce. Just minutes after, she was as juvenescent as always.

Much to Joel’s frustration, you would only provide supplies and a place to rest if you were able to do a checkup. Joel was able to argue his way out of it. Ellie unfortunately could not.

She was amazed as you led her past a concealed room connected to the kitchen. It was beige, clean, with lots of pictures . It made Joel stifle a chuckle, small frames of drawings of children, proclaiming to always brush their teeth daily, another of Winnie the Pooh, swinging on a tree with all of his friends.

He's sure Ellie doesn't even know half of the characters framed, acting as a distraction for children, maybe some adults who needed a reminder of the good old days.

He remembers the doctor visits for Sarah, the same set up, same types of rooms with building blocks by the corner to distract babies when they were waiting on the doctor.

Your hand at his shoulder had shot him out of his daydream.

"You need to leave the room."

He was hesitant, even if you had explained to him you were a qualified pediatrician, at least used to be, his trust was almost nonexistent at that point.

"I'll scream if she tries to kill me," Ellie comments bluntly, already sitting down on the examination table and swinging her legs. She looked comfortable, and when you chattered back, she smiled.

"I'll scream if she tries to kill me too, but I don't think you'll care." You turned to Joel with your arms crossed and your brow raised, waiting for him to make his exit.

Ellie raises her thumb behind you and pats her thigh where her knife was 'hidden'. He lets it be, keeping his gun in hand and walking to the door with a deeply serious face. You purse your lips in a faint smile, closing the door softly.

“Bad news. I'm not gonna make it,” she said, coming out with you trailing behind her. Joel was already pacing in the kitchen, looking over his shoulder every other second and smoothing his palm over your dining table, he was tense with angst.

Ellie's joke made him fuss, grabbing onto her shoulders, looking over her eyes, until you scoffed.

"She's fine. You two would be dead by now if you were infected. She does have little bruises and scratches but otherwise she's completely healthy, at least for our times."

He gave you a nod, his apprehension towards you was almost suffocating. You ignored it to show them the upstairs spare bedroom and shower.

He was very cold in the beginning, but the more you interacted with Ellie the more he let up. He even offered, albeit shyly, to help you hunt one morning.

For the first hour he was quiet, watching and following along, staring at the way you knelt down and turned leaves to collect, the way you explained to him softly, as if your voice were to disturb the harmony of the woods itself, about the different ways to harvest sustainably and ethically and of course without dying from poisonous plants.

Even in killing you were soft and kind. Only assuring you could make a swift kill. You liked to make as little noise as you could, fire as little shots as possible.

"Why do you do this?"

The fur of the rabbit was soft, it contrasted the skin of his hand starkly. The fire set up outside at night was giving you an orange glow from where you sat in those old dusty white plastic chairs one would use for family barbecues.

You had plenty of them in your old shed, stacked as if anyone other than you ever lived in the old ranch house. It was hard to imagine how it looked before. You seem fine on your own. He can’t even remember what parties were like, just muffles and footsteps, laughs and the cries of one particularly fussy baby.

Those were fun.

You briefly glance at him sitting at your side. He sounded so conflicted; he confused you. It was the first time he's tried to ask you something, other than looking to help around.

You listen to the fire crackle, watching as he places the skin to the side, throwing meat into your pan.

"Prepare dinner?" you ask, your voice gentle and quiet.

He chuckles and you look up too quickly at the sound, your eyes rounding as he adjusts on the chair he pulled up to help you cook. He nods to your home, the back porch lit up and with Ellie sleeping on the rocking chair, one of your many thick blankets over her.

The curtains inside sway from the light wind. The initial plan was for them to stay three days. It’s been two weeks.

You nod with a hum.

"I'm set up to help those in need. Travelers. That’s all."

An obvious lie. He doesn’t question it but he huffs as if he had caught you. He gives you a look.

"Bit dangerous," he rouses.

Your face scrunches. Your nose wrinkles at his lack of confidence in your safety.

"Could have killed you two y’know."

He gives you another look. You shrug.

"I'm not helpless."

"No one is," he mutters back quickly.

"Yeah, well, good thing I have you around now, lugging wood, doing manly stuff my brittle little hands are too weak to do."

He almost cracks a smile.

"God knows my family back at camp hates me for staying up here alone. Even after everything."

He didn't ask for more, in your slip up, you worried he would. The way he glanced at you made you think he was going to ask.

Some part of you wanted him to. Maybe then you would allow yourself to finally let go.

…

He stands, stretching and watching the lines and jags of the mountains. He puffs his chest, subtlety glancing at you. They've been staying for three weeks so far.

You haven't asked when they would leave. He probably should, bandits and raiders, slavers; they were expanding their territory. He had the trouble of running into them, who knows if they followed.

You run this quaint little thing, aided by a camp that donates extra supplies and equipment, family, you said. He didn't want to ruin it.

Especially when he sees you run your fingers over your necklace, a pendant and a ring hanging on the chain. The ring taunted him, it was gold, important. Imprinted on the pendant were two elephants, one smaller than the other, trunks wrapped together.

“What does your husband think of this?”

He stands awkwardly, shifting on his feet and keeping his eyes focused on the stream with his thumb fiddling with his belt loop. You chuckle, glancing in his direction with a smile.

“Don’t have one.”

You walk to a clothesline, placing the wet clothes to dry. He wanted to apologize, but your eyes were creased teasingly.

“Don’t have a lover either, in case you wanted to know. Not much to choose from anyway.”

He follows after you, quickly picking up the basket with the soaps and cups before you could.

You huff.

"Well, lucky the fella who comes your way."

Your eyes widen. His chest filled with ardor, he swallows thickly as you watch, slightly open mouthed.

He stands fully and suddenly you are close, your chests almost touching from the proximity. You didn't seem to shy away, instead looking up with a smile on your face, your eyebrow arched.

Your lashes flutter.

"Yeah?"

He swallows thickly.

"Ye-"

"I'm done!"

You step back, directing your gaze beside him. Ellie bounds up, stepping so roughly the grass bends and pieces of dirt fly. You wince from how out of breath she was, placing your hand on her shoulder.

"Good job."

She looks between you both excitedly.

"Can I go with you? You told me you'll let me come if I finish washing."

You tilt your body to glance behind her, a basket full of clothes half full was next to the river, unattended .

"I told you I'd let you come if everything was washed." You nod behind her. She turns, then groans into her hands.

"Joel," she whines.

You laugh.

"I'm kidding, but if you want me to lend you my rifle you're gonna have to do that too."

Her eyes widen, her mouth opens in amazement.

"Your rifle, seriously?"

Joel scoffs, bumping his arm on her shoulder.

"You've already used one before."

She makes a face, rubbing her arm as if it hurts.

"Yeah... but not hers. It's cleaner."

You shrug and he squints his eyes at you playfully.

His palm aches from the way you roughly tugged the basket out of his grip. He watches on as you walk back to the house, hips slightly swaying with the basket at your hip.

He thinks he's somehow offended you the next day.

You were quiet, always having a hand on your necklace, just that morning you had to tell Ellie you couldn't take her anymore, surprisingly, she didn't argue. Just a look at your emotionless face had her acquiescing her previous victory.

Joel went with you, like last time but you went on a different path, barely marked, splotches of foot sized openings of dirt in a directed trail.

You don't go through there often, it seems. He pauses at the sudden inclination, but you continue on, gripping onto the trees as you climb up the steep moss-covered hill.

A line of a hose was tied from tree to tree, along the rise. You couldn't reach it, it was too low for your hand, colored tags of fabric tied along the line.

He felt as if it wasn't his place to start thinking about who it was made for. The two wooden stakes, most likely leftover pieces from a fence, made him stay put mid path, turning to give you privacy as you kneeled.

You were there for a couple minutes. You finally stood and gripped your rifle tightly as you gained your balance.

"Sorry," you sniff, flicking your thumb under your nose. It didn’t sound like you were directly talking to him. Your hand squeezes his shoulder as you pass him, walking back the path you took. He has the urge to do the same, but you keep on walking forward, deeper into the forest.

The bag you brought was empty now, he wanted to ask, but you weren't as talkative as usual, your eyes were swollen, your lip curled in a frown as you aimed at game.

You had a quiet dinner; you couldn't find any deer or rabbits or even squirrels, you made do with some cans of food.

The silence was broken when Ellie spoke up at the dinner table.

"So, when are you kicking us out?"

Her eyes were downcast, sad. She was trying to play it off as something humorous. The flame of the candles you set up on the table flicker as you move your arm across the table, your hand enveloping hers.

"You two can stay as long as you'd like.”

Ellie looks at you with a small smile.

“Until you're ready to leave."

Her lips purse and you look confused. It pissed her off.

Your hand slides next to your plate and off of her limp hand after a heavy moment. You clear your throat as you pick at your food, glancing self consciously at her. A corner of her lip lifts but the rest of dinner was awkward. She finishes early, barely brushing by you as she puts her plate in the sink, a placeholder for dirty dishes.

Joel calls for her sharply when you try to reach for her arm, and she shrugs your hand away.

"Ellie."

She turns stiffly, her narrowed eyes softening when Joel motions to your almost hunched form on the table. You've been fighting back tears the whole day, you look tired more than anything now.

She thought you might have been tired of her. And it scared her how much she cared.

"Sorry,” she mumbled. You nod and smile lightly.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Get some sleep."

She glances between you and Joel, walking up the stairs slowly.

"Night," she calls out. She received two quiet good nights back.

…

He sits next to you, the small bench so small your thighs touched. You look on into the sky solemnly, barely turning your head in his direction.

"Don't take it to heart, she's a teenager."

That wasn't all that had transpired. He understood the want to stay and your implication of them finally leaving might have made her think you were urging them away.

You smile up at him, bumping shoulders. You didn't want them to leave, you just didn't know how to say it.

You'll figure it out eventually.

"I know. It's not really... that."

You pick at the fire with a metal rod, turning the wood, watching as the insides turn an orange ember through the cracked layers.

"You had a daughter, right? Before Ellie."

He wanted to retort a no, but you were curled up next to him, holding onto a blanket tightly, staring into the fire as if you were hypnotized.

"You handle her well, like you've done it before."

He stays silent, that was enough to answer your question.

"I worked in a small office, parents like you... always watchful and stressin’ about something. I used to be so damn irritated by the way they pestered and acted as if they knew better. They didn't trust that I knew what I was talking about."

He's seen the pictures, you were smiling widely, standing amongst nurses and doctors at what he assumed was your clinic.

“And then I had my son and I understood.”

He’s heard Ellie ask you about the little boy in the pictures. You ignored her, instead fishing out an extra jacket for her to wear. You only had those pictures in your room, as if you wanted to keep him in your dreams.

Keep him safe.

He didn’t mention how you avoided their gaze the rest of that day either.

"He was five on that day, my husband died trying to get us out of the city. Just out of work too, but he stopped to help someone and... we had to keep going.”

He hates himself for asking before. He hates how he was acting like a replacement. How much he wanted to be that replacement.

“I should have known. There were kids coming in sick and- and with stomachs bloated as if there was something festering inside them. They weren’t my patients, but I should have-“

You tsk. His hand finds yours on your thigh.

He could tell you’ve only ever told this once or twice. He wonders if you’ve become vulnerable with other travelers.

He doesn’t like the thought.

You were telling him this because he could relate. Because you could tell he’s gone through the same pain.

“It was just us two and some family here. Things were fine, people were nice, we were still mourning.”

You chuckle sardonically.

“And then they realized that they didn’t have any rules anymore. News broke that some raiders were gonna come by, take women and children and kill the rest.”

You shake your head, your throat threatening to close.

“Everyone was panicked, my uncles and aunts, they were in contact with another camp, we were going to leave. We tried to leave- and we got separated- and there were runners everywhere - and I hadn’t gotten used to handlin' a gun yet so they tackled him and I couldn't even think straight anymore-“

He pictures you amidst a hoard of them, fiddling with the gun in your hands, and for the split second that you look away he was suddenly on the ground, struggling and crying your name.

You shake, the tears in your eyes trembling with your body. A lump forms in his throat.

You probably slammed the butt of the rifle against their head, yelling out for him to stand behind you. You ran, unfocused, not fully there enough to check your son.

“He had a scratch and he didn’t tell me. Right on his finger. If he would have- I could have-“

You groan.

“But I don’t fault him. He was scared. He wanted to go home.”

Your voice broke at the end of your sentence. He watched as you take a deep breath in, turning your head, as if you were ashamed of the tears running down your face.

“We were finally comin' home but then he collapsed.”

He imagined you panicked, a little boy with your eyes, your nose and maybe your hair, taking his glove off of his deteriorating hand.

He imagined how you would pick him up, trying to get back to the house as quickly as possible. Helpless and unable to call for anyone.

"He said, ‘don’t let me turn into one of them. I don’t wanna be a monster’. Just six years old and scared of hurting me.”

Your voice shakes with emotion.

He imagines the way you cried, how your voice was undulating, how you tried to search everywhere in your office for something but knowing you wouldn’t find anything .

"I couldn’t even keep my hand steady, his little hands were guiding me…I was supposed to be the one reassuring him, telling him it was gon’ be alright. That he would be saved."

He imagines Sarah in your son’s stead and he hurts. He imagines the little boy's cries of pain and his need to be next to you.

He imagines Sarah.

"I wanted to die, Joel.”

Don’t say his name. He doesn’t want to remember.

“I always prepared him for the worst, thinkin that I would be the one with the barrel to the head."

He couldn’t keep his tears from falling.

"Y’know the last thing he said to me?"

You chuckle, wiping your eyes.

“He told me to find some cake because it was going to be his birthday next month…. He told me to find dinosaur candles for him.”

You lean your cheek against his shoulder, his head rests against you. He squeezes your hand.

“I never did find cake or candles… I don’t even think they exist anymore.”

You chuckle lightly and then your whole body trembles, you silently sob.

“I promised.”

His heart hurts, his body aching with pain. He cries . He cries with you.

He imagines your hoarse and high scream. How it would echo in the thick forest. He imagines you cradling him against your chest, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably, not caring if you got infected.

Maybe even welcoming it.

…

It was strange to wake up with a body next to you. It’s been twenty or so years, give or take. Your hand smacks beside you, he groans.

“I can hear her trying to make scrambled eggs.”

He groans again, this time louder. You laugh and he thinks he hasn’t heard anything more angelic. You were still facing the window, stretching your shoulder and yawning as you sat up.

You started sharing a bed ever since you fell asleep on his shoulder, gathered around a fire like most nights and spending time going over memories.

Ellie was asking questions, mostly about life before the infections, how things worked, how you were trained to become a doctor.

Initially impressed by the fact that you skipped several years of medical school because of your academic prowess, she held onto your every word.

The fascination was snuffed out when you mentioned how your education was somewhat useless now. People were more concerned that their babies didn’t have contact with the infected than if they spoke their first words at the proper stage.

Then Ellie asked what infants were really like. She hadn’t seen much in her lifetime, maybe once or twice, at least up close. She thought they were ugly.

“Every baby is a cute baby,” you scolded teasingly.

“Except the ugly ones,” she mutters under breath.

You snort. She looks between you both, eyes wide and mouth agape as if she had said something extremely offensive.

“Not yours though. I’m sure yours was okay.”

He expected you to tense, to quiet down and make yourself smaller. But your eyes softened, and you chuckled. An air of melancholy still present but with soft joy.

“ Well, he was a very okay baby. But he was a fussy little thing, just like you,” you quip.

You glance in his direction; he smirks at you.

“Amen.”

Joel sips his mug. Ellie scoffs, muttering a quiet and very directed fuckers when you laughed.

Shortly after she went up to sleep, she was yawning, and her eyes were drooping at that point. You warned her you wouldn't take her out if you heard a single elongated intake of breath escape past her lips the next day.

You sit in silence, your leg twitches as he adjusts on the bench, his knee knocking into yours.

The gentle quiet made you nervous.

"So..."

He turns to you. You turn to him.

"What does your wife think of this?"

His brows furrow, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Don't have one."

"Any lovers?"

He snorts.

"None that I know of."

You hum, staring up at him through your lashes, you smile against the lip of the mug. In what seemed like a second your face fell. You place your mug on your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was probably insensitive."

He turns fully, his arm resting on the seat, behind you. You resist the urge to curl in against his side as he chuckles.

"It's alright, really, I haven't... not since Sarah was born..."

Your mugs were filled with rum, his eyes were brighter than usual, his lips looser.

You hum as he shifts in his seat, scooting ever so slightly closer, your shoulder now against his side. You didn't think he realized he just told you something personal, but then he goes on without you asking him questions.

You hum as he goes on about how he didn't have the time for the prospect of marriage, how he had to take Sarah to soccer practice, and he had to work. How his ex-wife left and disappeared, and he had to give up his dreams to take care of his child.

But he never failed to mention how he didn't really care about that.

His hand was on your shoulder now, squeezing in intervals as he chatted in your ear. You hum along, smiling as he reminisces about his life before Outbreak day.

You start to talk along, intervening with your own memories, like how your son liked to watch The Wiggles on TV before he went to school in the mornings or how everyone was suddenly obsessed with denim on everything.

Then you talked about celebrities and then about politics and when you had exhausted all topics, it had led to the day.

He spoke quietly, as if other people were around and he only wanted you to hear him. He talked about Tommy, his brother, and his neighbors and how they were the first infected he's seen.

The fear in Sarah's eyes as he killed the old woman she used to visit.

"She was killed," he says quietly.

"Shot in my arms."

Your hand moves to your shoulder, squeezing his hand. He gulps down the liquor with a loud gulp.

"And I couldn't do anything. I was just so..."

"Helpless," you murmur.

"Yeah..."

You sat there for a while, your bodies now leaning against each other. The quiet crackles and pops of the fire and the chirping of the crickets made you drowsy, the cup in your hand now limp on your lap as you close your eyes.

You didn't even notice him carrying you to your room, only when you opened your eyes, your blanket draped over you did you see him standing in front of your dresser, staring at the frames.

He really did look like you, the same nose, and the same eyes. He was forever happy in the picture, and you looked much younger, holding him with the very same house in the back.

He often wonders what would have happened if things were different.

Sarah would be thirty-two, your son soon to be twenty-six.

"Joel," you call out. He turned, and it was as if you knew what he was thinking. You've thought of it too, of course you did.

He didn't deny you when you extended your arm, he even pulled you in closer when you turned to face him.

It was an unspoken agreement that he would sleep in your room every night since then.

…

"You're burning the eggs my chickens worked so hard to produce, Ellie.", you yell.

"I am not!"

The sound of laughter, plates clattering together, and the click of your portable stove being turned off could be heard from the bedroom.

Joel stares out the window, taking deep breaths in and exhaling out slowly. It smelled like wood, moist because of the rain of the season, it smelled of wax, when you burn the half-used candles to light up a room at night.

He briefly closes his eyes, rolling his head on his shoulders, feeling the stretch of his tendons and he sighs.

Then he notices something strange, rustling along the thick woods, the sound of limping footsteps.

And most jarring, the shouts for help.

He didn't think twice before calling out to you, already coming down the stairs with a pistol in hand. You stood from your seat so quickly that the plates clinked on the table.

His eye flickers to the full plate beside you, a mug of coffee on the side.

"There's someone outside, they're getting closer."

You peek outside the kitchen window, closing it shut along with the others.

"Ellie, go upstairs."

She was about to retort.

"Please."

The intonation in your voice made them pause, she nodded.

A woman was limping closer, the child beside her holding their stomach, coughing and heaving. They were sick and injured, you didn't want to take any chances.

Your eyes were zeroed in on the floor, you could hear her shout from outside, asking if anyone was there. You wait until Ellie's footsteps stop, waiting in the hall upstairs, itching to come down.

You take your rifle and take a breath, moving to open the door, but he steps in front of you.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing?"

He was almost angry at the way you were opening the door so carelessly.

"I'll go, I'll handle it."

He gives you a look, putting his hand on top of your rifle as you attempt to open the door again.

"They're less likely to be apprehensive if they see a woman by herself. You're going to scare them."

Your eyes were pleading.

"I have you to watch my back. Just stay inside unless I call for you. Please."

He swallows, his hand at his hip, and nods.

You were taking some time, asking questions, pointing your gun at her head. You hated doing this, it was the worst part. But people were crazy, you didn't know how anyone would react anymore.

He watches as you keep your face neutral, inching closer as the woman answers your questions. The safety of his pistol clicks when you take a step back cautiously, she starts to cry now, stepping closer and pleading for you to let her in your home.

You turned back, nodding at the door.

It gave you a chill when you turned your back, instinct told you to keep an eye on them. Somehow you didn't trust the look in her eye when she explained how her daughter got sick out of the blue.

How she's been trying to get to a camp nearby. They hadn't had any proper food, drunk clean water, and she had sprained her ankle on the way.

Joel leans by the door, keeping his eyes stern, you try to smile to make his shoulders less tense as he stares, he just continues to follow you into the kitchen, your rifle now in his hands and placed on top of your fridge.

You offer them water first, surprisingly they drink slowly, but you suppose that was better for them. You would have told them to not choke, that they were safe and in your care, if they were too quick in their gulps.

But they didn't seem as panicked as before, as scared or sick.

You reach under the pits of the child, her name was Cassie, and lift her up onto the table in your room. Your gloves were on, a clean white coat layered onto your clothes.

You checked her lungs, and they were clear, you checked her heart and it beat normally for her projected age. You checked everything, and she was normal .

You glance behind you, Joel catches your eye, and your panic makes him stand at attention, his arms uncrossing and his hand reaching behind his back.

"Your cough go away, sweetheart?"

She nods.

Her mother grabs onto your shoulder tightly. She looked angered. You tense.

"She's sick, I don't know what-"

She's pulled back by the collar, Joel shoves her against one of your cabinets with a growl, making your supplies fall to the floor in a crash. She yells from the sudden movement and the sharp pain on her back.

The barrel of his gun presses against the side of her head, hard enough to wrinkle her skin.

"Joel-", you try. His head turns slightly. He had this look in his eye. As if he were aching to tear something apart. You swallow a gasp and nod.

He corners her into the room, shoving her shoulder against the wall before stepping back, keeping his pistol aimed at her head.

"You said your ankle was sprained. Show us."

She glares. He aims down.

"Lift your damn pants or I’ll fix your foot for you."

She does as told, her eyes connecting with yours briefly before she lifts the leg of her jeans. Her ankle was fine, covered in mud and dirt but fine .

"I just wanted to make sure you would take us in."

Take us in? She thought the house was vacant. She sighed in relief when she saw you walk out.

You turn to the child.

"This your ma?"

She shakes her head slowly.

Baits.

"Shit."

…

“Holy shit.”

Joel just finished tying the woman up, the child sitting by her side silently. She had a knife on her, hidden in her boot.

“Ellie,” you warn. She shoves her pack on the table, stuffed to the brim with supplies.

“I’m packed.”

You nod slowly, your jaw ticking.

“We need to leave, who knows who they were with.”

You fiddle with the keys to the back door and your stable, walking to the stairs to get something last minute.

"We're just going to leave them?"

Ellie inches closer to them when neither of you respond. Joel steps in front of her.

"We need to go."

Her lips purse, she motions to the child on the floor, staring into space blankly. She had to be a little over seven you predicted.

"C'mon, she has a kid."

The woman lets out a sharp sob, you all turn to her slumped form, pulling from the restraints, and making the wooden chair creak.

"Please don't leave us, we just did what we were told. They were gonna kill us if we didn't."

She continues to sob, her face contorted as if she were enduring torture. Joel wasn't as affected as you were. A bit over the top with the theatrics as she slumps her head down to her chest and sniffles.

"Joel."

It was quiet, trying to pull at his heart with the way you inquired his name so nicely. Your eyes soften, your brows undulate, and you frown. He sighs.

...

"This is Claudia."

"Clawdia."

"Klow dee a. Claudia."

Ellie grumbles. She doesn't attempt to repeat, instead continuing to pet the golden hair of the horses you let out.

You lead another horse out, it's head bobbing as it trots out of the doors. His head bumps against yours, you pat his neck affectionately.

"Guillermo."

You leave her with the horses coming up to her to take the feed from her hands.

The house was quiet, you called out for Joel and to your surprise the only person there was the woman. You eye her from her seat, her eyes set on the window.

"She ran out. He went to look for her."

The front door was wide open, your rifle taken from the top of your fridge. Your heart skips a beat.

She stands, you stare at the barrel.

"If you don't fight we might keep you alive. You and the girl."

You shake your head, she crowds you in the kitchen.

"They'll kill him though. Can't teach an old dog now, can ya?"

You grab and push the muzzle from your body, she shoots the window behind you and she lets go from the shattering of glass exploding behind you.

The counter shakes as she slams you down, gripping your neck tightly enough to make you gasp helplessly. Your head turns, and you see the sharp points of broken glass glint in the sink.

She shrieks when you press it against her shoulder, twisting and turning even if your own palm was being sliced open in the process.

You fall to the ground, coughing and heaving, in a way muffling your screams of pain by clenching your teeth in anger.

She pounces.

Your knees were under her stomach, your hands wound tightly against hers as she continued to try to push a blade in front of your face.

Your arms burn when she puts her whole weight into you, your heart beating out of your chest, you felt like you couldn't breathe again. You close your eyes tightly when the blade starts to inch closer.

It slices your cheek when she's pulled off of you, you could barely feel it, too shocked at what was happening as you stood disoriented.

You could only stare as Joel pushed her to the ground, the knife now discarded on the floor as she tried to swipe her hand over the ground.

Her yells gargle and her hands move to his wrists and hands, tightly wringing her neck. Eventually they weaken, she could only stare at the rage in front of her.

He stands shakily, taking deep breaths in and heaving. You could see the scratches on his arms, but you didn't move to help. His face falls from his scrunched anger.

Your hand was clutched to your chest, he can see the fear, the way your chest rises and falls quickly. A pit forms in his stomach, he steps towards you, and you step back, muttering oh gods under your breath.

"Is she...?"

He nods slowly, he's pretty sure he snapped her neck.

"We need to go."

…

"I didn't think I'd leave that damn house."

You were quiet for a few hours. Joel had rushed out of the house, claiming that the little girl ran and disappeared. The gunshot heard from your kitchen made him get back. Prioritize.

When Ellie asked what had happened, he just said that the woman had died. He didn't mention how he felt her neck crack under his hands, how he could feel the air rush out of her, and the life drain from her eyes.

Whoever they were with weren't friendly and they were close.

You had to leave, and you couldn't get the one thing you forgot to store in your bag.

"I was scared I would forget his laugh, the way he ran around the dinner table in the mornings, trying to get all of our attention. And now I don't even have a picture of him."

Ellie was asleep, you set up a camp and a small fire. He bandages your cheek tenderly, already having wrapped your hand.

"I guess that's what I get for staying for too long."

His thumb smooths under your eye. For the first time after your near death experience, you catch his eye, staring deeply into them.

Your lips part from the intensity. You start to inch closer, and suddenly he leans away, packing away the spare bandages and alcohol in a first aid kit.

"You won't forget."

He turns back to you with a tight-lipped smile, standing and starting to walk to his tent.

"Nothing to worry about there,” he mumbles.

--------------------

Thank you all for reading, comments and reblogs are much appreciated! More parts coming soon!

(Also asks and requests are currently open jiji)

-Alejandra 💋 🐇

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #ale's fics <3

115 notes · View notes

adhdduckie · 8 months ago

Text

cuz he's my best friend's brother!

my masterlist

pairing : choso kamo (my beloved) x reader.

on the radio : lunch by billie eilish.

word count : 11.1k

synopsis; he's your best friend's older brother- that's all he is to you. nothing more, nothing less. so why do you feel this way about him? and why are you so interested in the things that he does? he seems to have no interest in you at all. (no curses AU) turns out he's just as whipped as you. yuji being done with u n choso forever

or;

years of gradual buildup to a romantic relationship between your best friend's brother; choso kamo.

guys im so sorry this has been marinating in my drafts for months.

t.w; swearing, some angst? eventual fluff. reader is described as having a period and wears dresses. lmk if i forget anything else

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AGE 5 and AGE 7

You met Yuji at your day care. you'd been sitting on the grass field in the backyard of sunny smiles daycare, tears welling up in your eyes as you glared angrily at the ground. you didn't want to be here! you wanted to be at home with your mom and dad!

it was your first time being away from your parents for so long, and you'd stormed away from the sunny smiles worker as soon as your parents left.

so that brought you to where you were, sitting under a shady tree all alone, stabbing angrily at the ground with a stick. it's not that anyone was actively avoiding you, as a couple of other kids had approached you but you hissed at them like a feral cat, not particularly enjoying your emergence into society.

it all changed very quickly though, because just when you found a little stick bug, a little boy with bright pink hair and a bright smile came bounding up to you.

“Whatcha lookin at?” he asks, and you look up at him.

“Bug.” you respond shortly, and his smile brightens even further, if that was even possible. (you learn to know that his smile is blinding, and something he doesn’t reserve. He gives them to everyone as if it's as easy as breathing to him.)

That’s how you become best friends with Yuji, over some fascination over a stick bug, in the corner of a playing field.

You end up finding out that he lives on your street, a couple of houses down, with his big brother and his dad.

Throughout the years, you spend countless hours over at the itadori/kamo household, and it becomes a second home to you quite easily, their father being kind and outgoing helps you become seamlessly integrated into their family of 3.

The first time you went over, you were sooo excited the night before, you couldn’t sleep! You’d known yuji for an entire 2 weeks, and could not wait to meet his older brother, and his parents.

The day of, you were so hyperactive, bouncing around while you whined to your mother when she took an entire 10 minutes to get ready to walk you to his house, running ahead of her on the pavement on the way there.

You race up the stairs to his door, pounding your little fists on the door, somewhat rudely and rather impatiently, but you get a pass for being a literal child.

Your mother pulls you by the hand away from the door and scolds you for being impolite and so impatient, but you’re too excited to care.

You can hear the door being unlocked on the other side of the door, and then next thing you know, there’s an angel opening the door and staring down at you with the prettiest purple eyes.

…record scratch.

The boy standing in front of you is not an angel, but he might as well be. Longish black hair thrown up in to two twin ponytails, with deep set eyes and a thousand yard stare, he’s gorgeous. He smiles at you, greeting you formally as if he’s an adult, and not just a 7 year old boy.

Your mom coos, ‘such an adorable little boy,’ and already responsible enough to be answering the door.

“Look at him, y/n. He’s so well behaved. You can learn from him.” your mother says, looking down at you with an affectionate smile.

You can’t even reply, you’re so taken with this boy. This must be choso, Yuuji's older brother by two years.

You look him up and down, and he smiles at you. You decide immediately that you love this boy, and he will be yours. (you’re 5, and he’s 7. He’s not going to be yours anytime soon.)

So obviously you do what any 5 year old would when presented with a cute guy. You grab onto him, and refuse to let go even when your mom is pulling you off him.

“Sorry, I don't know what’s gotten into her.” your mom apologises to the boy, trying to hold in her laughter.

“It’s alright.” choso replies with a smile.

At that time, Yuji seems to hear the commotion at the door, and comes bounding over, yelling your name excitedly.

“Yuuji!” You yell in response, letting go of his brother momentarily to hug him.

“Why didn’t cha tell me bout your brother?” you ask him, before immediately reverting back to choso’s side.

Your mother sighs, before bids you goodbye and heads to work, thinking to herself that the years to come will be interesting indeed.

“Whaddya mean?” yuji asks you, as he pries you off from his brother and pulls you into the house to give you a tour.

“.um, duh….he’s going to be my husband. You will be my brother in law!” you tell yuuji confidently, sure that you will win the heart and the affections of his older brother.

Yuuji stares at you with a concerned and open mouthed look, before he breaks into a smile.

“Will we be related?” he asks cheerfully.

“Yes! You can be my brother in law!” you tell him, already planning out your future, just considering the names of your children.

You forget that choso is behind you, trailing, and he lets out a soft chuckle, before he rubs the top of your head. He’s pretty tall for a 7 year old, but then again, he’s always been the tallest kid in his class.

“I’ll wait.” he tells you and you brighten, smile radiating like a thousand suns.

choso thinks it’s funny, and considers it just another childhood promise that is made by kids that aren’t kept.

But you’re convinced that he’s the one for you, and the one you will love forever. You’re convinced that this is who you’re meant to spend the rest of your life loving, and that he was made for you.

You and Yuji spend the day in the garden, playing with the sandpit they installed, frisking around in the pool, and on the set of the swings, all under the watchful eye of choso.

choso seems to be built for the role of protective older brother, because yuji and you aren’t allowed to be out of his watchful eyes for more than a minute.

He plays with you guys with a level of maturity you’ve never seen in a kid before, but he still is patient as he plays with you in the sandbox. In later years, you’ll look upon moments like these to realise just how serious he’s been, even as a child.

When you and yuuji had an argument over who should get the neon green shovel, he sighs, before telling you that you should take turns, an hour with you and an hour with yuuji. By the time yuuji’s hour is up, you’ve already forgotten about wanting it.

That would never stop him from being sweet and considerate to you, though. Time at the itadori household passes by quickly, and soon, hours have passed and it’s lunch.

You follow behind choso and yuji as they walk into the kitchen, to be greeted by jin, itadori’s father.

You smile at him, introducing yourself a little to him, while he talks to you as he cooks.

Yuji and choso jump onto the seats surrounding the island with some difficulty, but they’re still able to reach. Being 5 years old, you can’t reach, and struggle to clamber on, so choso gets off his chair to help you up to sit on it.

He’s so caring, it’s almost ridiculous.

Hours later, when you leave the itadori’s house only after the promise of many more visits to come, you’re still giddy from the high of the day, kicking your feet as your mom walks you back to your home. You wave to yuuji and choso, who are both staring out the window to see you leave.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AGE 7 and AGE 9

Two years after you meet yuji, you’re still spending so much time over at yuji and choso’s house.

it's safe to say that you enjoy their house more than your own, considering how you’re there almost every single waking moment. Your mother worries about intruding, but it’s not something that really crosses a 5 year old’s mind.

Jin laughs anytime your mother frets, and says there’s nothing to be worried about, and he doesn’t mind that you’re there a lot, as “both of the boys seem to love [you]”.

In later years, your mother will often comment on how you seemed to be so taken with choso, and yuuji, but both in different ways.

For yuji’s 8th birthday, he got a small house. Not literally, but one of those children houses that you would find in a walmart, for at most a hundred dollars. It was plasticy and shiny, with red (plastic) bricks, and a purple roof. It was just big enough to fit the three of you at one time, and suprisingly, at the age of 9, choso was still perfectly content to spend time with an 8 year old and a 7 year old.

You remember the day yuuji got that house. You were at sunny smiles daycare, playing on the seesaw set when he came bounding up to you with a big toothy smile.

“Guess wa i got for ma birthday!!'' Yuuji all but demands, looking somewhat smug despite having a massive gap in his teeth, where he’s missing his two front teeth. (all i want for christmas is my two front teeth, my two front teeth!)

“What?” you ask him, getting excited already. His energy is infectious, which makes you wonder why choso looks so tired all the time. The bags under his eyes are prominent, even though you know his schedule well enough to know that he sleeps about 10 hours, and somehow he still has them.

Genetics, you guess.

“No silly, you need to guess.” yuuji tells you, climbing up onto the opposite end of the seesaw, and you fly upwards.

You let out a giggle, and think for a second, before loudly exclaiming; “hmm, a parrot?”

“Nope! Try again.” yuuji responds.

“A new bike?” you try again, and he shakes his head. His face splits into a large grin, and he shakes his head.

“Wrong!” he exclaims, before sighing and yelling out loud; “a plastic house”

“Noo way! You’re so lucky, i’m so jealous.” you whine, your legs pumping the seesaw up and down as you move.

“You can come over after school, you know?” he tells you. Suddenly getting off the seesaw, which causes you to fall off and hit the floor.

That is what brings you to here, now. Playing in his kitchen when he decides he wants to take you outside to see the little house.

Choso follows behind the two of you quietly, making sure you both don’t injure yourself by tripping or some other funny way.

As yuuji opens the backyard door, you see it.

A plastic house, just big enough to fit three or four kids, with red plastic ‘bricks’ and a purple roof.

The purple is a shade you’ve seen before, and you realise almost immediately that it reminds you of choso’s eyes, so you voice that.

You turn behind just in time to see the pink on his face, and you let out a giggle, while yuuji pretends to be deaf.

That little house becomes a very important figure in the games you would play back in those days .

Like many 7 year olds, you wanted to play house, and as a somewhat bossy 7 year old, you decided that you were gonna be the wife and choso was gonna be the husband.

Yuuji, forever the afterthought, was gonna be your dog.

And that was a game that was played for many years, until choso and yuuji both decided that they were too old to be playing house but that didn’t mean that your friendship had changed in the slightest.

AGE 12 and AGE 14

Just before choso left middle school to go to high school, he was widely well known in your shared middle school as Yuuji's cute older brother, and you agreed, of course, but he was choso. You may have been in love with him the first time you met him, but he was your best friend’s brother!

A massive figure in your life, something you had grown up with. Choso was the one who would patch your knee up if you fell, and sat up with you if you ever had trouble with your homework while yuuji waited by playing video games. All of this meant that choso was someone you worshipped, for the way he treated you and for the person he was.

It was one of your typical mall visits with choso and yuuji on a weekend, where jin had dropped the three of you off at the mall to have some fun and catch a movie.

Yuuji and you had decided to go with some horror movie, and had taken choso to pretend to be over 16 so you could see a slightly age inappropriate movie, since at that age, choso was almost taller than jin, towering over just about everyone you knew, so he was your master plan in catching that movie.

Jin, believing that you just went to hang out at the mall, drove you there. Choso in the front seat, and yuuji and you in the back. You were leaning with your back against the door, with your legs thrown over yuuji’s lap as you scrolled through your phones, sending videos to each other.

Jin stops as he pulls up to the mall, turning back to look at you in the back of the car as he smiles and tells you to be safe and have fun on this trip to the mall, and that he expects a call and update on everything that you do, so he knows when to come pick you up.

As you step out of the car, there’s a large cramp in your stomach which causes you to double over. It’s nothing you’ve ever experienced before, in terms of pain, but it doesn’t last for long, so you play it off.

Yuuji gives you a strange look, but doesn’t say anything, as he knows that if it was serious enough you wouldn’t stop whining about it, so he turns to the front as he eagerly leads the way into the airconed mall.

It’s rather empty, seeing how it’s late afternoon on a Sunday when people would rather be at home spending time with their families.

The cramps are back, and they are slightly worse, making your eye twitch. It mostly goes unnoticed, but you do get a slightly concerned look from choso, who mouths the words; “are you alright?” at you, and you just nod, eyebrows furrowed, wondering what is making you so uncomfortable.

You pay for your popcorn and drinks at the cinema, opting to share two large popcorn buckets between you two, as yuuji always seems to finish the first one before you’ve even managed to get one.

The three of you sit in a row together, with yuuji on your left side, and choso on your right. You’re given the task of holding the popcorn, and the darkness of the theatre does well to mask the flush on your face from being so close to choso.

While the theatre is a bit cold, you feel nice and toasty, not just from the heat on your face, but from having choso’s warm body heat so close to you.

Human earthworm 2 begins to play, and yuuji eagerly dives into the popcorn, watching intently. The cramps suddenly come back again, and something feels really wrong. You try to play it off, but after a while, you completely give up, whispering a hush “i’ll be back.” as you climb over yuuji’s legs while you try to get to the bathroom.

As you walk out of the theatre, you’re stuck with an even larger feeling of dread, the pit of your stomach seems to burn, and you’re afraid of what you’re going to find in the bathroom.

In the privacy of the stall, you realise what’s wrong. Your period. You’ve gotten it for the first time. The timing could not be worse.

You sigh, thinking about how there might be some pads in the bathroom for any emergencies, and when you check, there isn't.You panic, a bit (not a bit, a lot), and check the clothes you’re wearing. There’s a bit of a blood stain on the bottoms, and you’re about to cry.

Not when you’re out! This is so mortifying, literally the worst thing that could happen to you.

You realise you won’t be able to cover up the stains, as you left your jacket in the cinema hall.

‘Fuck.’ you whisper out and slump down in defeat, not exactly knowing what you should do here.

Time passes really slowly, and a quick glance at the time tells you you’ve been here for over 20 minutes already. At that thought, your cheeks heat up, as you’re afraid what the boys will think you’re doing in here.

You sigh, before realising you have no choice but to ask them to help you, but the idea of texting and mentioning your…predicament is enough to make you tear up a little in embarrassment.

At that moment, you hear a ping from your phone, so you pick it up to check, and what you see makes you stop crying immediately.

Choso; are u ok?? We’re a little worried abt u

y/n; …

Choso; ???

y/n: i need ur help pls

Choso : ofc what do u need?

Ten minutes later, you hear a call of your name from the entrance of the bathroom, and you unlock the door, walking to the entrance of the bathroom to come face to face with choso, who has a new pair of shorts slung over his arm, and a bag of period products for you.

He gives you a worried smile, before he asks if you’re okay.

You nod in response, too embarrassed to actually look at him in the eyes, and you whisper out a rushed thank you before you grab the stuff and use them.

He returns back to the movie, sitting next to a confused yuuji, who asks where he went.

“The bathroom.” he whispers in response, before turning back to the movie. Yuuji looks at him funny but doesn’t say anything, and just turns back to it too.

Later on, when you sit down next to them again, you whisper out another hushed thanks to choso, before wrapping the hoodie around your waist, just in case, and paying attention to the movie.

This incident isn’t ever spoken about again, but you always remember how he was eager to help you, while you know yuuji would have been so freaked out.

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AGE 16 AND AGE 18.

School’s let out, and it’s summer time. You know what that means, right? Pool days at the itadori household!

Last summer, jin itadori arranged a surprise for the boys- a pool, and for the last three weeks, you’ve been there almost every day, with yuuji.

You’d play in the water together, or sit by the side of the pool with a cold drink in your hand, reading, playing games (in yuuji’s case) or by napping.

But most of all, you’d talk.

Yuuji and your friendship was centred around there being no secrets, and how you’d trust each other with your life.

So, he basically knew everything about your life, except for one tiny…miniscule and unimportant detail.

The crush you had on his brother.

Somehow you had managed to be less obvious with it than the ones you had had in school for some ungodly reason, but your luck with boys had never been that great, considering that none of those other crushes could even hold a flame to the one you had on choso.

But you couldn’t, because of this.

“Oh, how’s choso doing at uni?” you asked yuuji at the beginning of summer break, with a fake air of uninterest to seem suave (you’re just fooling yourself and yuuji, everyone else knows)

He blinked at you, wondering why you seemed so uninterested. shouldn’t you care? Choso is your friend after all.

“Don’t you talk to him?” he asked, and you shrugged

“A bit, but not a lot.” you responded, pushing up your shades and reclining in the chair. you usually just get messages from him asking how it’s going and if you’re doing alright, but nothing really deep, since he’s so busy with school.

“Oh. Well, he said he’s got a new girlfriend, and his studies are going well.” yuuji responds, splaying out on the pool chair, turning his face up to the blinding sun.

Your heart drops down to your stomach, and it stings much more than it actually should.

“Oh. really?” you ask, trying to keep a steady voice.

“Mhm.” He hums, completely oblivious to the internal strife you are so very obviously facing. “You know, I actually spoke to her over the phone. She’s really sweet. Her name’s yuki.” he continues, eating chips out of the bowl so casually as if he hasn’t just torn out your heart.

You know yuuji means it when he says that choso’s new girlfriend is sweet. Yuuji is an exceptional judge of character, and was always, even from a young age. He may have been oblivious sometimes, but he really did know how to make excellent friends.

An example is the friends you made in freshman year, nobara kugisaki and megumi fushiguro. You were close with both of them, but you hadn’t known them as long as you had known yuuji, so you would always be closer to him than them, but that didn’t mean you didn’t love them.

And because you trust yuuji’s sense of her, you decide that maybe it isn’t worth getting upset over, since he sounds happy with a girl that is sweet. And all in all, you have no right to be getting upset, he’s not yours and he never will be. (haha. Haha. hahahhahahaha.)

You realise you’ve been quiet for too long, and social formalities deem that you respond now, or yuuji will actually start to get suspicious, which is not what you want.

“Oh, that’s great! Do you have any pictures of her?” you ask, before realising you really really shouldn’t have asked, because you don’t want to know.

Luckily, yuuji shakes his head. “Nah. but she will visit in a couple weeks to meet dad.”

Your finger twitches slightly, and you groan internally. Oh well.

So that brings you to the predicament you are currently in. three weeks later after you find out that choso actually has a girlfriend.

It’s about 3 in the afternoon, and as usual, you’re parked next to the pool with Yuuji and megumi, but not with nobara, since she’s away shopping in france (she’s living the life, is she not?)

But the thing that’s actually bothering you, is right in front of you. In its hot, muscly glory.

Choso.

He’s been back from university for over a week now. When he came back, he had greeted you with a big hug, and a ruffle of your hair, telling you that you had grown up a lot since he had last seen you.

Oh, how the turn tables.

He’s changed, too.

Because, when he was in highschool, he had been a tall and skinny guy, but now, he’s not so skinny anymore.

He seems to have put on loads of muscle in the months he’s been away, and it almost changes the way you completely perceive him.

But god, does he look good.

Especially with the way he’s pulling himself out of the water, muscles tensing in his back, straining in his arms.

Thank you for this view. You pray to whatever kind god has presented this view to you.

And then you remember. He’s got a girl.

You practically growl in annoyance, and megumi sends you the weirdest look you’ve ever seen.

He knows too much to live.

You practically drag your eyes away from him, feeling wrong and unfair to be ogling someone else’s boyfriend, even if you have known him for much longer.

As choso walks past you to walk back into their kitchen to grab a drink, he flicks some water at you, which makes you flinch and drop the book you’ve been pretending to read.

Yuuji’s preoccupied with his phone and megumi snickers, which causes you to drag your eyes away from his back (when did you even start looking at it, my god?)

“You know, you’ve been on that page for the last twenty minutes” megumi oh so helpfully supplies, whispering just low enough that yuuji can’t hear. He leans forward towards you with a leer on his face that makes you want to slap it off his face

“I dunno what you’re talking about” you respond, picking up your book again, bringing it up to hide the flush that’s taking over your face from megumi.

You can hear him laughing.

When choso comes back from the kitchen, he’s got two glasses of iced tea in his hands. He walks back past you and you fight to keep your eyes trained on his face. Which allows you to catch the easy going smile he gives you as he passes you a glass, before settling into his pool chair which is right next to yours.

“Where’s mine?” Yuuji whines, forgetting about his game for a moment to complain.

“Yeah, what about us?” megumi chimes in with a snort.

“If you wanna drink some, get it yourself.” choso replies

This becomes a game for you and megumi. You, who tries to look at choso and admire him without anyone noticing, and megumi catching you and teasing you about it like you’re both 11.

When you do meet yuki, a couple weeks later, you realise that you can’t even hate her. She’s sweet, although she is a bit strange.

You’re all gathered around the dinner table, in the yuuji household.

Yuuji to your side, as always. Jin at the head of the table, and choso and yuki sitting opposite.

You’re directly opposite yuki, and you immediately grow to like her. She’s sweet and funny, and has a strange sense of humour.

“So, how did you guys meet?” you ask them, watching the way they seem to lean into each other. Your heart squeezes, but you hold your love for choso above your romantic interest, and if he’s truly happy, that’s all that matters to you.

She smiles, and turns to her side to look at him. There’s so much love in her eyes for a relationship that is relatively new.

“I actually met yuki in the cafe that I work in.” choso responds, smiling at you as he picks up the plate of chicken.

You smile while taking a sip of your drink, swallowing hard before you speak; “that’s cute. You write your number on her cup?” you tease, which is a lot easier than you think, because even if you love choso, his happiness means more.

“Yes, actually. She seemed so sweet and she was gorgeous and I knew I had to know her, and the next thing I know, I'm in love.” He responds with a happy smile.

Suddenly, you’re 5 again, walking down the itadori household for the first time, with your arm wrapped around choso’s as you refuse to leave him. He smiles at you and promises to wait for you.

You’re 11 and he’s sitting out of spending time with his friends to help you with your homework.

You’re 12 and he’s helping you conceal your period. You’re 12 and a half and you’re sitting on their couch, playing games with him.

You’re 16 and he’s bringing out cups of a drink for you and only you. You’re 16, and when you’ve gotten wasted from a party he asked you not to go to, he sits up with you in the bathroom, holding your hair back as you throw up, because he promised that he’ll always wait for you, and that means that he’ll always take care of you.

You’re 16, and you’re helping him get ready for his senior prom, with a girl that doesn’t deserve him, but it’s not like you think you deserve him either. You’re standing in his room, watching him throw on his black jacket, and you look at the sorry excuse of a tie he has on, and you slap his hands away as you try to fix it. He sits down for you, without you having to say something, and you walk closer to him. With his legs pressed together, it’s hard for you to reach his tie, and he realises, so he lets you step in between them. You’re focusing as hard as you can on his tie, just so your heart doesn’t speed up too much and he can hear it. He watches you intently with a smile on his face, and you feel your cheek heat up. When you finish straightening the tie up, you pat him on the shoulder, and he lets you go. You don’t want to see him walk out with the girl on his arm, so you go home early, but not before you wish him to have fun.

And you realise that as you think this, none of this will actually matter to him, because he loves her.

And that kills you, but there’s nothing you can do.

You spend the rest of dinner rather quiet, not really talking much, but also subtle enough that nobody asks you what’s wrong.

choso’s 7 and he’s opening the door to see you, in your little pigtails and your yellow dress. He’s seven and he’s promising to wait for you.

He’s 9 and he’s playing house with you even though he hates that little house that his father bought him. He’s 9 and he’s your husband in that little plastic kitchen, watching you cook with a smile on his face.

He’s 13, and while he’d rather be playing football with his friends, but he’s sitting at their dinner table helping you understand your homework, since you’re scared of getting it wrong at school.

He’s 14 and he’s worried when you spend too much time in the bathroom, texting you to ask if you’re alright. He’s 14 and he’s buying pads and new clothes for you to change into to make sure you’re comfortable.

. He’s 18 and he’s letting you fix his tie for him, even though he knows how to tie his tie, but he lets you fix it anyway. He’s got a smile on his face and he’s aware that he probably looks like an idiot, but he likes how concentrated you are on this meagre task. Once you’re done, you pat him on the shoulder and he’s confused. He wants you to see how dapper he looks with the corsage pinned to his chest, him with his tie, the way his hair is done and his suit, but when he asks yuuji where you are, yuuji tells him with a confused look on his face that you’ve already gone home. He’s 18 and he’s unable to stop watching you with a smile on his face as you yell at his brother for eating your dessert, even though he’s got a girlfriend, and that you’ve always just been his little brother’s best friend

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AGE 20 and 22

You’re finally at uni, somewhere you’ve always waited for. You haven’t deliberately chosen the same place that choso is going to, but you’ve been joined by nobara and megumi and yuuji together, so that you are always together.

( a year or so ago) When you found out that you had gotten in, you had raced out of your house, to yuuji’s during the summer holidays, rushing through their door with the envelope.

You run past the kitchen where choso’s standing as he sips a cup of coffee, and you yell a good morning to him. All he does is laugh, a twinkle in his eye as he sips again.

You don’t pay too much attention to him because right now, something else is much more important. You stampede your way into yuuji’s room, where yuuji is on his bed, still sleeping.

You jump onto the bed, slapping yuuji awake.

“Yuuji, yuuji, yuuji yuuji” you yell loudly from excitement.

“WHAT” he groans, throwing his pillow at you, which you duck, due to your epic skills.

“I got in!” you scream happily, throwing the big fat envelope in his face.

It smacks him in the face with a loud thump and he groans in pain, looking at the envelope, before he says “congrats” and promptly turns back onto his side and goes back to sleep.

You kick him on the side, lightly, not enough to hurt, and huff angrily as you jump up from his bed, and pick up your big envelope again, tucking it into the waistband of your sweats, having not bothered to change out of your pyjamas, and walk down the stairs to the kitchen.

As you walk into the kitchen, choso looks up from his cup of coffee, and he gives you a bright smile.

“I heard from a little birdy that you got in?” he asks you, and you grin.

“Yes! I did, i’m so excited.” you tell him. “And hopefully yuuji, megumi, and nobara did too.” you continue, happy that you might be with them.

Just then, you get a message on your phone, and you pull it out.

You let out a squeal of excitement as you shove your phone under choso’s nose, showing him megumi’s text that he too, got accepted into this university.

“I take it you’re excited?” he asks you, feeling a slight pang of uneasiness when he sees how excited you are that megumi had also gotten in, but he doesn’t really know why.

“Yeah! Hopefully yuuji and nobara can also join so we won’t be without them, and then We’d also be able to see you more, as well!” you say, trying to play it off as you’re not the one who’d probably be the most excited that you could see him more.

Despite yuuji and choso being siblings, and choso caring a lot for him, they are pretty nonchalant when they haven’t seen each other for a while, but you guess that’s just sibling dynamics.

Choso feels his heart speed up in his chest, and he smiles.

“That’d be nice, for sure.” he responds, humming as he sips his coffee again.

Just then you really look at him. This is his second cup of coffee and it’s barely 9 am.

“How long have you been awake? And are you even sleeping?” you ask him, because you’re worried. Your brows furrow, and he leans in to show you, and you notice that the dark purple circles under his eyes that have always been there, are a bit darker than normal.

He sighs, and rubs his forehead before he explains; “i’ve got a paper due soon, so i’ve been working pretty hard on that.”

You frown, worried about his lack of sleep, and you push him towards getting more, because he looks tired.

Just like he promised to always look after you, you promise the same.

Just then, yuuji comes bouncing down the stairs, and he runs out to the mailbox. You realise what he’s going for so you follow, excited to see the results.

He rips open the mailbox, and sees a big envelope and he grins. You’re bouncing on your feet beside him, eager for him to open it.

But yuuji wants to open it with his big brother, so you go back in. When inside, he tears up the envelope cover and pulls out his acceptance letter, and you all celebrate.

That was over a year ago now, and you’re in your second year of college.

2 months after you joined choso’s university with megumi, nobara and yuuji, you met Ander.

He was sweet at first, and he provided a good distraction from a love you had for choso that seemed to fade the more you spent time with ander. It was really useful, because choso and yuki were everywhere you looked.

But after awhile, you were desensitised to it, so whenever you would see choso, your heart wouldn’t fill up with so much excitement anymore, but more of a, i used to like this guy.

Present tense became past tense when you thought you just didn’t love him like that anymore (lol as if), so you started treating choso a little differently, you started treating him more like you should have from the beginning, your best friend’s brother.

I mean, he noticed, but like he never ended up saying anything to you, in case of hurting your feelings or disrupting the peace he sometimes was able to make with yuki.

They were still together, but it was getting difficult. They were constantly arguing over the littlest things, and he just grew to realise he didn’t love her as much as he thought he did. But you didn’t know this for a while.

But that’s not important just now.

Ander, who you had met in your psych 101 class, had sat down next to you during the first lesson on your 3rd day at college.

You didn’t talk much for the first couple of lessons, but after a while, he was easy and simple, just what you needed at that time.

Someone that was attainable, and totally not your best friend’s brother.

Slowly, you began to get to know each other better, and in the last class of your first week, he came into class with a cup of coffee that he gave to you with his name and his number, asking for a date.

Your relationship was simple, at first. Dates were enjoyable, and you got along well enough. He was an alright kisser compared to your previous experiences.

obviously, that stuff didn’t last.

or else, this wouldn’t be about you and choso.

conflict started occuring during your fourth month together.

not physical, thankfully, you wouldn’t have stayed with him, but arguments were very common.

he wanted to go a party, but you had an exam the next day, or you weren’t feeling like it.

he never forced you to do things you didn’t want to, but he did get annoyed, and also got petty.

you don’t want to go to a party with him? he’ll talk about it none stop, and about the amount of people that came up to him asking where you were.

you can’t go out cuz you have to study? he’ll tell you about the number of girls that hit on him, before he’d say, ‘obviously, i told them i was taken’. and you’d stare at him, like, do you want a reward for remaining loyal?

but you thought you loved him, and that was what was important to you.

nobara hated him, and she told you multiple times that he was a pig.

and megumi got into arguments with him all the time, about the dumbest thing. for example, ander would want you to wear flashier, nicer and more revealing, but megumi would cut in, telling him that you could dress how you pleased, and there was nothing. he could do about it.

and yuuji? yuuji couldn’t even bear to stay in the same room as him, which was why you didn’t end up spending a lot of time with yuuji. it was some of the worst time of your life.

choso, who had met him, thought he seemed alright, but he had heard about what yuuji said about him, so he was wary.

the first time they met, you noticed how opposite they were. choso was taller, more attractive to you, and he just made ander pale in comparison.

you worried about the way it may have seemed like you were using ander, but you really didn’t have any feelings for choso, and ander was who you liked. When they first met, choso shook his hand hard, smacking his hand down on ander’s shoulder like a father would do to his daughter’s boyfriend, and he stared him right in the eye.

ander, slightly intimated, leaned backwards as choso whispered, just loud enough for all of you to hear; “you better take care of her.”

you roll your eyes, having seen this protective older brother routine before, and you step in, pushing choso’s hand off his shoulder and breaking his grip on ander’s hand, pushing him away from ander.

“that’s enough.” you’d said, pushing ander into the next room before you turned back to choso, who shakes his head at you.

“i don’t like him.” he tells you, and you get annoyed at him, for the first time.

“you don’t have to like him.” you snap back, “it doesn’t matter.”

choso and you never talk about his distate for ander again.

You’ve ended up at some frat party that nobara’s dragged all of you to.

you were originally supposed to go with ander, but considering how he had a last minute study group meeting, you told him that you didn’t mind, and he could go ahead to his study group while you would stay home.

nobara somehow caught wind of this, burst into your room while you were sititng at your desk with a frown on her face.

“thought you had date night with ander?” she asks, throwing herself onto your bed.

“something wtih his study group came up”. You respond, pushing away from your desk to turn and look at her on your bed.

“…at 9 pm on a friday?” she asks, her frown etching deeper into her face.

“i guess so.” you respond, knowing how weird that might sound to her, but you don’t want to bring it up.

“well,” she slaps her knees like an old grandma, pushing herself up to her feet. “I’ll be right back. we’re going to that party anyway.”

you sigh, knowing better than try to convince nobara to change her mind once she’s gotten her mind hooked onto something.

you watched, bemused as nobara sprints out the room, laughing to yourself when you hear her footsteps sprint down the hall of the dorms.

soon enough, nobara’s back. Dressed in a short red dress, she throws a gold fabric at your face, which, because you don’t expect it, smacks you right in the face with it. you pull it away from your face to have a proper look at it.

standing up, you push past to go change into it, giving her an annoyed look.

it’s a gold dress with spaghetti straps that stops right below the middle of your thigh. it’s a pretty little dress, and you sigh when you see yourself in the mirror. because this will forever be your favourite look.

nobara is dragging you through the crowds of a party in a frat house, towards the center, where you can easily spot megumi’s glowery face and yuuji’s beam from the opposite side of the room. the contrast between the two really stands out, with people avoiding megumi, keeping a circle of space around him, while they crowd around yuuji.

nobara goes to yuuji, while you stand next to megumi.

“he drag you here?” you ask megumi, taking the drink he passes you. you take a sniff. no alcohol, just how you wanted it.

“yea. Is that nobara’s dress?” megs asks you, gesturing vaguely to the gold fabric on your skin.

you nod in response as you scan the room, to see who’s there. you see friends from classes that you take, and previous classmates from old lessons.

and then you notice him.

there’s the sound of a plastic cup crunching, and it’s only when you feel a cold substance running down your hand, you realise it’s yours.

ander has his hand on a girl’s waist, and they’re walking up the stairs to someone’s bedroom. They’re close enough to not look innocent, and your suspicions are confirmed when he leans in to kiss her with a familiarity that tells you that this is not the first time.

you don’t even say anything, and you just stare.

megumi trails off in the middle of something he was saying and he turns to look at you, his eyes following your line of sight.

it takes him a second, but he gets there. “..what the fuck.” he growls, throwing his drink to the side as he marches forward.

your arm shoots out to stop him, and he pauses, looking at you with confusion.

you shake your head, just turning around to sit down.

megumi follows you, and yuuji and nobara finally seem to notice something is wrong.

they crowd around you, nobara taking the drink out of your hand as she follows your line of sight, just in time to see the back of ander’s head and a girl as they walk into the bedroom.

“oh that bitch.” nobara all but grumbles, miming pushing up her sleeves before she sets off on his direction.

“no.” you say, rather quietly, before you seem to crumble, tears coming to your eyes as you rest your head in your hands, curled up on the sofa.

there’s a dip in the couch as yuji sits next to you, bringing you close to him, and resting your head on his shoulder.

they all crowd around you, telling you how much of an asshole he is , and nobara tells you she can fuck up his car if you wanted.

that gets a laugh out of you, and you manage to smile at them, while still shaking your head. he’s not worth it, you think, and it makes you feel better already.

the rest of the night is a big blur, as you struggle to make sense of things. Ander, cheating?

it makes sense, in some way, but at the same time it doesn’t. what had gone wrong? (Arguments, disagreements)

you don’t even want to think about him anymore, so with a quick text of “don’t ever talk to me again, we’re done”, and you were a free lady.

you wake up the next day with a pounding headache, not from alcohol but from tears and a stressful evening, to a knock on your door.

you groan, throwing your blankets off of your body as you stumble to the door with a grimace on your face.

forgetting that you’re still wearing last night’s clothes, save for your makeup, you open the door to see choso.

it’s been a while since you last saw him, the two year school difference has made him so busy in preparation for his graduation, he’s been working so hard with his part time job and his studying.

he looks..different, in some way. Tired but happy. You’ve seen him around on campus, and you have texted him a lot, just messaging about school and work and life.

“yuuji told me.” he says in form of a greeting, shaking his head while you step back to let him in. he looks you up and down in your tight gold dress and he averts his eyes, which is what makes you realise that you’re still wearing the same thing from yesterday night.

“he moves fast.” you say in response, as a way to stop yourself from worrying too much about how you look. there’s not much that you can do now.

“I should have known.” he says. you look up at him, confused, before he sighs and continues; “about ander, i mean. I didn’t like him when I first met him.”

“well, you weren’t the only one.” you say, pulling out an oversized shirt out from your drawer, putting it over the gold dress.

he steps over to your desk, setting something down you haven’t noticed before, a pack of food. the scent wafts over to your nose, and you let out a happy squeal when you realise it’s your favourite food.

he smiles, glad to see that you’re not too upset, but it quickly drops off his face as soon as he remembers why you should be upset in the first place.

“thanks.” you mumble out through a mouthful of food. he waves you off, telling you not to worry about it.

“are you sure you’re alright? I can have a word with him if you need.” He raises his eyebrows when he mentions having ‘a word’ with ander, and you get what he means.

“no, it’s alright. he’s not worth it.” you say, swallowing the food.

“thanks for being here.” you say.

“anytime. I’m always here if you need me.” he says, ruffling the hair on your head in endearment.

sitting down at your desk, he takes a bite from a bowl he’s bought for himself.

“is there anything that you need from me?” choso asks, still looking really worried for you.

“i promise, I’ll be alright.” you respond.

there’s a silence, but it’s not uncomfortable, but rather it’s quite enjoyable, and feels right.

Leaning back in your chair when you're done, you turn to look at CHOSO, surprised to notice that he'd already been staring at you before hand

He gives you a tentative smile that looks like he's relieved that you're alright.

"Thanks for checking up on me." You say again, standing up to throw away the trash of the food he'd brought for you, and when you're about to reach for his plate, your arm reaching past him, he grabs ahold of you softly, standing up as he does so while he hugs you.

Your arms immediately wrap around his waist, and his chin rests upon your head. He's got a firm hold of you, but you feel content to be there.

You let out a sigh, and you can feel the tears beginning to prick at the corner of your eyes. You needed this. Not from choso specifically, but you just needed this.

after awhile, he lets go, his hands gripping your forearms as he stares at you, realising that you've almost cried again. One hand cupping your jaw, and the other hand reaches up, and he uses a thumb wipes away a stray tear that you didn't realise had escaped.

"Don't cry" he tells you, brushing back some of your hair. "He's not good enough for you." He tells you again, echoing the words that he had told you the first time he met ander.

You let out a wet chuckle, glad to have his support.

you step back from his embrace, and the hand that was cupping your jaw falls limply to his side.

you end up just staring at each other, his deep set, purple eyes meeting your eyes.

unable to stop yourself, you frown at the familiar twinge in your chest.

‘no, no no no’ you think, this isn’t good at all. you can’t do this again, and not so quickly, either.

but the heart wants what the heart wants. at least it’s building up slowly and not all at once.

Suddenly, you’re 5 again, walking down the itadori household for the first time, with your arm wrapped around choso’s as you refuse to leave him. He smiles at you and promises to wait for you.

You’re 11 and he’s sitting out of spending time with his friends to help you with your homework.

You’re 12 and he’s helping you conceal your period. You’re 12 and a half and you’re sitting on their couch, playing games with him.

you’re 20, crying over a stupid ex boyfriend that cheated on you, when choso is the one there to support you. at the word of a friend, he’s ready to be there for you, and knows how to make sure you’re feeling better and understanding your worth. he’s there for physical comfort, and for anything that you may possibly need. it’s the most calm you’ve felt in months, in his arms. He makes sure that you’re as alright as you can possibly be.

choso’s at a party he doesn’t want to be at.

some of his friends had dragged him out of his room, after he had apparently spent too much time studying for his finals soon.

in the middle of a conversation with a girl that’s come up to him to try to hit on him. he’s pretty absentmindly talking to her, as he doesn’t want to be mean, because he knows her well enough that she’s super sweet, he’s just not interested in her.

for some reason, he looks away from the girl for a moment, to the door. the sight that greets him makes him freeze in the middle of his sentence.

it’s you.

he feels like there’s no more breath in his lungs, because you look absolutely gorgeous. he hasn’t felt like this looking at any girl since he broke up with yuki.

you’re wearing a gold dress that compliments you so well, he might just cry. it’s not like he hasn’t seen you for awhile, but something’s just more obviously different now.

he’s standing there with his mouth gaped wide open, long enough for the girl he’s talking to to notice what’s going on.

she lets out a little laugh, a little disappointed, pats him on the shoulder, and walks away.

he only jolts out of his reverie when he feels her pat his shoulder, and he manages to straighten up.

he’s just about to come and talk to you when he sees you crumble, and he’s filled with confusion. he sees your friends support you and take you away. he stands in the middle of the party for ages, torn between wanting to go support you and wanting to give you space.

he understands soon though, why you’re so upset.

ander’s just come out of a bedroom upstairs by himself, with his hair messed up, and a dopey look on his face.

choso knows immediately what he’s been doing, so he marches through the throng of the party to go confront him.

ander’s up against the wall before he can even realise what’s happening.

“what-what-” ander splutters pathetically.

choso’s mad. he’s mad, mad.

“what the fuck have you done?” choso snarls, all up in ander’s personal space. the party quiets down as all eyes are on choso and ander.

“wha are you talking about??” ander tears up, scared for his own safety.

“you know what.”

“she- she doesn’t give me what i want” ander answers. choso slams his hand above ander’s head, which causes ander to flinch.

“you don’t deserve her. you never did. If i ever hear you go near her again, you’re going to regret it.” choso says, before he pushes away from the wall, not even waiting to hear ander’s response.

that is what brings him be standing outside your room the next morning, before he knocks carefully.

he’s got your favourite food in a way to make you feel better, and he’s ready to give you as much support as you may need.

he hears a groan, and the rustling of bed covers, and then the sound of steps on carpet, before he hears the door unlocking, and he’s greeted with you.

you look gorgeous, having just woken up. he notices that you’re still in your golden dress from last night.

“yuuji told me” he says in a form of greeting, in a way to pretend that he didn’t see everything that happened last night.

he sees your initial confusion, but then he sees how you seem to shrink in on yourself.

he walks in and you both talk, and he asks multiple times if you’re sure that you’re okay.

after you finish eating, you reach over him to get his bowl to throw away, but before he even knows it, he’s standing and he’s got you in his arms, and everything feels so unbelievably right.

there’s nowhere else he wants to be now, because he has you in his arms, with his chin on your head, he can smell the perfume you were wearing from last night.

and it makes him think back;

choso’s 7 and he’s opening the door to see you, in your little pigtails and your yellow dress. you shine so bright, he’s reminded of the sun. He’s seven and he’s promising to wait for you.

. He’s 18 and he’s letting you fix his tie for him, even though he knows how to tie his tie, but he lets you fix it anyway. He’s got a smile on his face and he’s aware that he probably looks like an idiot, but he likes how concentrated you are on this meagre task. Once you’re done, you pat him on the shoulder and he’s confused. He wants you to see how dapper he looks with the corsage pinned to his chest, him with his tie, the way his hair is done and his suit, but when he asks yuuji where you are, yuuji tells him with a confused look on his face that you’ve already gone home. He’s 18 and he’s unable to stop watching you with a smile on his face as you yell at his brother for eating your dessert, even though he’s got a girlfriend, and that you��ve always just been his little brother’s best friend.

but now, choso’s 22. and you’re 20. and he is finally starting to realise that he’s always seen you differently than to how he’s seen, say nobara. as yuuji’s best friend, and younger than him by two years, he understands that there will be more of a difficulty to be having the two of you together, as a couple. Not because of the age gap, which isn’t too much, but because of yuuji’s reaction, and the history that you’ve had between the two of you already. but he’s willing to try.

months later, you’re finally over the betrayal of ander.

with the support of your friends, and choso, you’ve managed to be better than you ever were.

choso has been great, recently.

he’s been spending loads of time with you, whether just hanging out and watching some of your favourite childhood movies again together, or studying together.

and you’ve finally realised, that you love choso again. well, to be more accurate, you never stopped, and it was more of a hiatus, but you are getting better in accepting it.

sometimes, when you’re a little bored, you dream of the idea of choso loving you too. you read too much into actions, and you blush when he does something sweet. and suddenly, the idea of him loving you back, doesn’t seem so farfetched. (THATS BECAUSE IT ISNT????)

it’s during a holiday of your second year of university, when it happens.

you’d woken up that morning with a strong desire to go lie by the pool, and by deciding to do so, you decide to go over to the itadori/kamo household to go enjoy the sun with yuuji.

you’re dressed up in your swimwear, and you’ve decided to put on a yellow dress, before you’re ready to go over to yuuji’s.

for once, the door’s locked for some reason, so you result to knocking and ringing the door bell. you stand there, waiting for someone to come open the door, when you hear choso yell out “hold on!” as there is a sound of someone sliding over to the door.

the door unlocks with a click, and he opens it to see you, and you can see the immediate change in his face.

at first he had an easygoing smile, the one he usually looks at you with, but for some reason, this time it dropped away to a dumbfounded look, where he seemed to be a little out of breath.

after a minute of him just staring at you, and looking you up and down, you ask him; “…choso…are you okay?” you ask him, a little worried. do you look weird? does whatever you’re wearing not suit you?

he seems to be having some sort of internal struggle, you just stand there awkwardly, a little worried, when he reaches for you and pulls you into his embrace, closing the door behind you. you stand in his arms, hands resting on his chest as he just stares at you.

“you’re beautiful, you know?” he tells you, pushing back a strand of your hair behind your ear.

the words make you freeze, and your heart is thumping in your chest like the rhythm of the tango.

"what?" you say, which is super suave and sooo slick and it makes him laugh a little, which makes you feel like you're glowing, just because you managed to make him laugh. it's always been like this. making him laugh or smile was a little victory in itself, and you could feel good for an entire day alone just from making him laugh.

his hand moves to rest on your waist, and he lets out a little sigh.

"this yellow dress." he sighs, with happiness , you think. he is toying with the fabric, rolling it over and over in between his fingers.

you look at him in confusion, trying to ignore the hammering in your chest. something similar is going on in choso's heart, but you don't know that.

"it's the same color as the one you wore on the first day we met." he finishes, letting out a small smile as he reminisces.

you try to think back to when you were 5, but you're unable to remember much, just remembering that you just basically pounced on choso. you can trace your admiration for him all the way back to then, and it makes you cringe. you should have been more nonchalant, but maybe being nonchalant really isn't your strong suit.

"oh. you remember?" you breathe out, rather raggedly as he stares into your eyes.

"i remember everything." he says, and you notice his eyes flicker to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. almost subconsciously, you lick your lips, wetting them, and his eyes flicker back down again. "i remember everything that you do." he continues, his voice low.

The house is quiet all around you, but if a bomb went off nearby, you probably wouldn't even notice, because all that matters right now, is choso. he is what is surrounding you, and he is what matters.

you feel some sort of dopamine rush that only ever appears when you're with choso, because he always just knows what you need, and that means right now, that he knows that you really, really need him to kiss you.

and so he does, because he's always ready to give you anything you need. the kiss is hot and heavy, and breathing isn't even on your mind right now, because choso completely occupies all your thoughts. he crushes you to his chest, his hand resting on the dip of your back, and your hands are clutching onto his shirt, scrunching it tightly.

his fingers grip on your jaw, not painfully, but enough to keep you firmly in place where he wants you. You're feeling like everything that has happened in all the years that you've known him has lead to this moment, because god, this is more than anything you've imagined before, because it's so much better.

his lips are soft, but they are still firm on your own, and you're kissing back with so much vigour, and your hands are in his hair and he's supporting you while you melt.

somewhere in the distance, you hear a door open and close, and some part of your brain is telling you that maybe you should break apart so you can breathe, but he's just pushed you up against the wall, and it feels way too good.

which is a bad decision, because the next thing you know you're hearing a loud "WHAT THE FUCK." from yuuji.

oh well. what better way to tell him?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: guys wtf this took so long im so sorry. i said i would have it out ages ago. help me. anyway here it is sorry it took so long! likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated!!! hope you enjoyed.

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stvrnioloslvt-inactive · 6 months ago

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christmas bondage - matt sturniolo

genre: smut / t.w.: semi-public sex, unprotected sex / check masterlist to read the other fics of ficmas 2024

①

"baby, i need some help here!"

"coming, sweetheart."

you stood on your tiptoes, stretching as much as you could to put the star on top of the christmas tree. you held your breath as you tried to not fall on the decorative item, the colored lights reflecting on your tense facial features.

a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you towards your boyfriend's chest. he gently took the star from your hand, putting it on top without any difficulties. he placed a kiss on top of your head, chuckling at your annoyed huff.

"it's fine sweetheart, want to help me put the rest of the fairy lights on?"

you don't exactly remember how you ended up in this position, with matt's warm hands exploring your naked body, placing open mouthed kisses wherever his mouth could reach.

spread out for your boyfriend in the middle of the living room, you turned your head to the side, eyes reflecting the lights of your christmas tree. you shivered as matt's long digits spread your folds open, letting one finger travel from your opening to your clit, circling it a couple of times.

"mhm," he moaned, sucking a purple hickey on your neck, "so wet already."

you whimpered, hot flashes of need cursing through your veins, your thighs trying to push close as you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second. matt's hand grabbed your thigh, preventing you from trying to close your legs again, doing it all while he latched his mouth around your rigid peak, lapping at your nipple with need.

"matt," you cried out, fingers dipping in his soft hair. matt's lips left your breast with a last, harsh, suck, then he sat up, reaching behind his head to pull his shirt off. your breath stuck in your throat watching the show of lights and shadows dancing on your boyfriend's stomach, his tattoos gaining and losing color like it was magic. your eyes travelled south, to the waistband of his underwear sticking out of his pajamas pants, then to his prominent bulge pressing against the fabric. your mouth watered as you noticed a damp spot on his pants, his dick throbbing at the attention.

"you like what you see, sweetheart?" he asked, reaching inside a box. you watched confused as he searched for something in particular, whispering a soft "here it is" as soon as he found it.

"what are you doing?" you lifted yourself on your elbows, tilting your head to the side while your boyfriend toyed with the string of fairy lights in his hands. you saw him flicking the button on, the lights gaining life, illuminating the scene with sparks of red, purple and green all around.

matt's eyes flicked back to you, biting his lip to suppress a laugh at your perplexed face. he untangled gently all the knots that had formed, ending up with a few-meters long string.

"sit on your knees, pretty." he commanded, observing with a dark look in his eyes how you obeyed immediately. he shifted uncomfortably, his hard dick aching in his pants.

his eyes darted around your figure sitting so prettily for him, big doe eyes looking back at him with need and impatience written all over them.

"do you trust me?" he mumbled, lips grazing against yours. you nodded, too hypnotized by whatever was going on in the moment to properly respond.

"turn around. don't get up."

you did as he said, facing the sofa. matt's arms snuck around you, gentle hands holding your arms up and away from your body. you hissed as the cold string of lights touched your skin above your breasts, crossing on the back and coming back to the front, this time placed below your tits. you watched breathless as more and more fairy lights were wrapped around your arms, your center, down to your knees. matt's hands left momentarily the string, placing a hand on your chest and one on your back as he helped you lay with your cheek on the soft carpet, your ass in the air. finally, he placed your wrists behind your back, tying them together.

he stepped back, admiring his work of art: his beautiful girlfriend covered in lights, warm and dripping for him.

he hummed satisfied, rubbing his hands on your ass before tapping it lightly.

"can i go on or do you want me to stop?"

"go on," you begged, thighs flexing to try and release some of your frustration.

matt's hands grabbed your hips, pushing them against his own, letting you feel how hard he was.

"do you feel it, sweetheart? all of this just for you," he purred, hips grinding against your sopping pussy.

"more, please," you whined, wiggling your hips side to side. your boyfriend's hand left its place on your hip, his finger sliding along your core, gathering all your wetness.

"who made you this wet, hm?" he tantalized, massaging in slow, tight circles your clit. "so fucking pretty."

a blush crept up your cheeks at the otherwise innocent compliment if it weren't for the not-so-innocent position you were in, while your boyfriend tugged down his clothes, letting them pool at his knees.

"how bad do you want it?" he rasped, yanking the restraints digging at the skin of your wrists. you gasped, a drop of your own arousal dripping down your leg. matt eyes didn't miss it, immediately stopping it in its track with the tip of his dick, pushing it back up. you shuddered as you felt the trail of sticky precum on your thigh, moaning out loud as matt's tip separated your folds, rocking softly while waiting for your answer.

"so bad," you managed to choke out, trying to open your legs as much as the string lights let you, a silent invite for your boyfriend to push his dick forward further and let you grind on it.

"good girl."

he eased himself in you slowly, reveling in the feeling of your walls clenching around him, sucking him in.

"oh-god," you cried trembling in his hands, euphoria running through your veins making your head spin dizzy. you felt matt pull out slowly, just to slam his hips in you again.

"i- ngh- fuck," his hips set a frantic rhythm, rutting into you with desperation. the lights wrapped around you clanked as your body rocked with matt's thrusts, adding something new to the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet squelches of your soaking cunt.

your walls squeezed tighter around his length, your insides burning with the feeling of your orgasm approaching. matt's dick throbbed, tip leaking precum and pushing it inside you as his own climax threatened to crash over him at any given second.

"m-matt i- please-"

"yes yes yes- fuck! go on, baby, cum all over my cock."

something snapped inside you at his words, an intense feeling washing over you, leaving you a moaning shaking mess. with a last thrust your boyfriend came, pushing himself all the way in as his milky white cum spilled inside you, filling you up.

matt groaned satisfied as he sat back down, rubbing a comforting hand over your back.

"baby," he whispered, bending to get face to face with you, "are you okay? can you sit up?"

you hummed, eyes closed as you tried to recover from the bliss. matt's hands grabbed firmly your shoulders, pulling you up. he stood right in front of you, offering you his body as a pillar while he untangled and freed you from the colored lights. after he was done, he traced softly the red marks left by the string on your tender skin, bringing your hands to his lips to leave a loving kiss there.

"how about a bath? i'll massage all the sore points, does it sound nice?"

you smiled, nodding at your boyfriend who picked you up, taking you to the bathroom.

"never thought i'd be tied by some fucking christmas lights."

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓

ficmas number 1 everybody! let me know if you liked it <3

love you all, bree ☾

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

taglist: @shadowthesim @sturnioloszn 🤍

#© stvrnioloslvt #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt x reader #matt x y/n #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #ficmas 2024 #bree's [sturniolo ficmas]

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viennakarma · 8 months ago

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The Lucky One (2)

Part 2 (of 2) of The Lucky One | Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Summary: Formula One had been your dream and your goal ever since you were a kid, and you did all you had to in order to achieve it. Between ups and downs, Sebastian becomes a steady presence despite being your complicated frenemy relationship. Until everything comes crashing down. Formula One gives, but Formula One takes.

Word count: 5.5k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, reader is mirrorball coded, coming of age, cursing, romance, both are assholes, smut, +18, complicated feelings, rivals to lovers, crash, major injury, medical innacuracies, bittersweet ending, not beta read; t.w: brief christian horner scene.

Relationship: Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Note: This is fully inspired by the song, and throughout my writing process I realized it also fits mirrorball. This one may require some tissues (especially in part 2). Everything is fictional and I mean no disrespect to Sebastian or his family (they don't exist in this story). I'm sorry it took me forever to come back to it, but there it is, hope I don't disappoint Not proofread. Comments and feedback are welcomed.

Find me on Twitter! | BUY ME A COFFEE ☕️

Ending whatever complicated fling was going on with you and Sebastian was the right, rational call, you knew that. But your body, your heart, regretted it every couple of weeks as you laid awake in bed, plagued by memories, need and longing.

You decided to just do your best during that season. You couldn’t fight for the championship anymore, but you still wanted a great season since the following year would be your last in the current contract with Red Bull. A great performance could secure a renewal or even the interest of other teams.

Sebastian and you still saw each other frequently during race weekends, your eyes always finding each other across the crowd. He was consumed with guilt, of having been blinded by his own privileges that he didn’t see the struggle that was being a woman in Formula One. He vowed to never be so far from reality like that ever again.

He wanted to stop you, to talk to you again, to try and fix things, but there was this constant mix of shame and uncertainty about your reaction if he tried reaching out again. Sometimes he would look at you from afar, and he’d see something in your eyes, something that felt like the same longing he had. Some other times, you looked at him like you hated him.

Eventually in the third race to the last in Bahrain, he couldn’t take it anymore. There was this string tugging at his heart, begging to see you and talk everything through. During the Friday afternoon, between Free Practices, he marched around decidedly, looking for you. He walked into the garage and no one seemed to mind his presence as he went straight into your driver’s room. He barged in, not bothering to knock. You were sitting on the couch, drinking Red Bull and going through some papers. You frowned and stood up as you saw him.

“What are you-”

“Stop…” He interrupted with both hands up, “don’t say anything just yet.”

You frowned but didn’t look particularly angry, your frown softening into a stunned silence. Sebastian sighed, breathing slowly, he had a plan and a speech when he was marching there, but now, looking at your face, your pretty eyes, he had lost all sense of reason.

“We’ll talk about everything, rationally, like adults. Okay?” He offered, and you slowly nodded, unsure but also willing to try, “Not now, because the race and everything. But- this monday, okay? After the race, after we get a good night’s sleep. We’ll go to a nice restaurant, and we’ll talk over good food. A real date this time, no hiding anymore,” He said, his words pouring out fast, like he wasn’t truly thinking about what to say, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement, “Monday night?”

“Monday night,” You nodded, no anger in your eyes, just a glimmer of hope.

“Good,” He nodded and just left.

You stood there, speechless, but with a disbelief smile on your face, looking almost silly. Despite the anger you felt the last time you two actually spoke, there was this undeniable magnetic pull between you, and you didn’t seem to be able to be away from him just as he wasn’t able to be away from you.

The whole weekend, you felt that nervous energy, almost bouncing up the walls, you attributed it to the race, but you knew it was more than that. The car had been great the whole week, you qualified P2, your first real possibility of win in a few months, which would be a blast to finish the season winning one of the last races.

You were smiling as you waved to the fans during the driver’s parade, your first hopeful and excited pre-race interview in quite some time. As you put on your gloves and helmet, you couldn’t help but feel some sense of purpose. You would give your very best in that race.

You just didn’t know it would be your last time behind a Formula 1 wheel.

The race was great, it started alright and most of it you kept your P2, even after a failed attempt of undercut, you still managed your P2, but then came the moment, the point of no return in your career, the very moment that changed the trajectory of your life forever.

After turn 15, you had finally managed to catch up to the P1, less than half a second behind him, and despite his car being fast, you could try and overtake him with the DRS. You pushed the fastest you could in the straight, closing and closing the distance, almost succeeding in overtaking, but as the DRS zone ended, you realized you’d have to wait another lap to try again. But then, as you pushed the pedal to brake and slow down into turn 1, the car kept going. So many things happened in the span of mere seconds, but they felt like ages to you.

“I’ve got no brakes,” You said into the radio as you tried braking. Then you tried engine braking and the security system braking. None of it worked.

With quick thinking, you decided to face the turn that way and bear it. You'd probably lose a lot of grip with the rear, but if you hit the curbs it’d help you slow down and just drive to a stop. You kept trying the brake pedals all the way to the turn, when suddenly, the tyres locked up and everything happened really fast.

You weren’t able to turn, the tyres locked and you had no way to slow down the car. All you did was brace as you went full force straight into the barriers, the impact so hard it made your car split in half. You blacked out for a couple of seconds and then came to again, a ringing in your ears as you tried to situate yourself, a mix of excruciating pain and numbness, pulsing hard, almost keeping you in and out of it.

Pain. Numb. Pain. Numb.

You tried to stay awake, hearing your name being called in the distance, the numbness giving each time more space to the excruciating pain but you couldn’t identify where it came from.

“Talk to me! Are you okay?” You were only half aware of the voice in the radio, and you blindly reached for the button with shaky hands.

“H-help,” your voice was shaky, hoarse and so unlike yourself.

You couldn’t move, you couldn’t bring yourself to even reply again, even more aware of the pain now, barely keeping your head up and your eyes opened. Teary eyed, a distant, cold part of you knew it was over. It was over forever.

Then you blacked out.

“Sebastian, red flag, red flag,” His engineer called, as if he had not seen all the red flags throughout the circuit.

He drove back to the boxes, hopping off the car as he saw other drivers do the same, he marched into the Ferrari garage, worried.

“Is everyone okay? Who was it?” He asked, as he removed his helmet and balaclava.

The grief faces around him didn’t help, and Sebastian felt a sense of dread as he turned to the closest screen showing the live coverage of the race. The transmission was a helicopter shot of your car into the wall, or a better description would be two piles of wreckage of your car as the marshals rushed towards it. He felt like he could puke, despair spreading through his chest.

“What did she say? What happened?” He asked anyone willing to answer, his eyes glued to the screen. As if on cue, a replay of your crash played out on the screen.

“S-she asked for help. She didn’t reply again after that.” Someone said, somber, and a lump lodged in Sebastian’s throat.

He kept staring at the video, then a replay of your radio also came through, the despair as you realized you had no brakes, the urgency in your engineer’s voice as he asked you to try other means. And the faint “Help” you said after one of the ugliest crashes Sebastian had ever seen. He had never been a religious guy, but at that moment, he prayed. His eyes glued to the screen as the marshals started removing pieces surrounding you and the car, and the ambulance arrived. They started checking you and were about to pull you out of the wreckage.

Then, the cameras were cut off, showing the drivers and everyone in the garages. Sebastian knew that for the transmission to stop showing, it meant the crash was really bad, it meant that however they were pulling you out, it was ugly. Sebastian felt a shiver up his spine as he thought about the possibility they were removing your dead body from there.

With that, he marched out of the Ferrari garage and towards RB, and he found other drivers were already making their way there too, everyone desperate for any news. A few minutes later it was reported that you had been taken by helicopter to the nearest hospital. Sebastian breathed again as they reported you were alive, but unconscious.

The race was interrupted officially a few minutes later, Sebastian and Lewis along with a few other drivers were still waiting by the Red Bull garage for more news on you. Slowly, everyone was sent away when the news came from the hospital that you were hurt, but not in a life threatening situation and you’d stay in the hospital for observation.

That was when Sebastian finally left, a little shaken as he went through his post race duties.

The following morning, after a tossing and turning almost sleepless night, the official representatives confirmed that you were alright but had unfortunately fractured a leg, and would not take part in the remaining two races of the season.

Even after he got news on you, and there was this sense of relief that you’d recover, the knot in his stomach remained, his gut saying that something was off. But he brushed it off, thinking it was just lingering anxiety from the accident.

He wanted to talk to you, see you. He got your number from Lewis and texted you but you never replied and he kept trying. A few days later, Lewis commented with him that you hadn’t replied to his text either. And later they found out you actually had not replied to any of the drivers or anyone from the Formula 1 teams.

After Abu Dhabi, when the season ended, he got a hold of your manager, leaving an office in the Red Bull garage. He stopped her, gently taking a hold of her arm.

“How’s she doing? Do you have any news on her?” He pressed.

“She’s alright, still recovering.”

“Why hasn’t she answered her phone?”

“She’s recovering and took a break from social media and the internet, so she hasn’t been able to communicate well. I’m sure once she’s fully recovered she’ll get back to you.”

“Do you have a home telephone, e-mail or even an address where we can reach her? See her?” He asked, almost desperate.

“I’m sorry. Just give her some time, I’m sure she will come around.”

With that, your manager left quickly, holding a small stack of files with both hands, the “classified” stamp boldly branding it. Sebastian kept trying to contact you, failing miserably each time.

When the Prize Giving ceremony came, he was bouncing with nervous energy, hoping and praying he would get to see you again. If anything, just to know you’re really okay and well. You didn’t show up to the ceremony, but suddenly you were awarded the Personality of the Year award.

Then, your face showed up on the big screen, and Sebastian felt his breath stuck in his throat. It was a simple, regular video of you, you were wearing a pretty dress and your hair was in an up-do. Your face had makeup like you always wore in these kinds of events, pretty eyes and big lashes, and a scarlet lipstick. Your face looked healthy, despite your eyes lacking its usual brightness.

“Hi, everyone!” Came your recorded voice with a smile, “It’s such an honor to receive this award. Thank you to everyone who voted for me and congratulations to all other drivers on the season. I’m well and recovering, and I’m grateful for all the well wishes all of you sent me these past weeks, I truly appreciate them.” Your smile faded almost imperceptibly, but Sebastian noticed as you inhaled softly, like you were resigned to something, “I will take this opportunity to let you know that I’m retiring from Formula 1 from now on. I’m grateful for all the opportunities, all the dreams achieved and the amazing people I got to know and work with. Thank you very much.”

As the video cut off, there was a stunned silence since absolutely no one saw that coming. No one expected you to announce your retirement like this. So suddenly, especially considering you had one more year of contract with your team. And you were also very young, just 28.

The event went on but Sebastian couldn’t move on from your video, from seeing your face and hearing your voice again. He went through the motions for the rest of the night, and at some point, Lewis stopped him to chat about how glad he was that you looked healthy. But Sebastian couldn’t shake off that pit in his stomach.

The following week, once he was done with his postseason duties, he called Lewis and a couple of the drivers you were the closest with. Still, none of them had any news on you, no text, no calls, nothing. He went digging further and found out you lived in Monte Carlo, in the same building as a few other drivers. Desperate for anything he went there personally to look for you. After giving your name and being recognized, the staff member checked on their computer for a moment.

“Unfortunately, she moved out of this building around a week ago.”

“What…?” Sebastian whispered to himself, shocked, “S-she… um, do you know if she moved to another place here in Monaco? Or she moved to another country or something?”

“I don’t have that information, sir,” the woman replied, looking at him with a smile apologetically.

Sebastian nodded and left, helpless.

Time went on, the world spun, and he never heard about you again. The holidays came and went, and a new season started. People still spoke about you, whispers about your retirement and the accident, many conspiracies theories about why you had disappeared. But oddly enough, the FIA and the F1 representatives never spoke much about you.

Not seeing you again was eating him alive, especially whenever he remembered the last time you had talked, the promise of a future that never came. One time, he went to the Red Bull to try and get any information about you. He kept bothering the staff for months, everyone including Christian, who was the one to put a firm stop to his nonsense of bothering the team’s staff about you.

“I need to talk to her, it’s important,” Sebastian pleaded.

“Have you considered that maybe she doesn’t want to be bothered? That she doesn’t want to speak with you or anyone for that matter?” Christian said, “This stops now, Sebastian. Stop bothering my team about this or I’ll have to go to Todt.”

Sebastian deflated, feeling defeated, only nodded, walking away.

He still talked about you on occasion, mentioning a battle in passing, or whenever the only woman to win a Formula 1 championship was mentioned. Sometimes he hoped you were watching, that you could see the longing in his eyes, that you’d feel something and reach out to him. And then later, he felt silly, stupid for wishing so.

Late at night, he stared at the ceiling, trying to commit to memory everything that had ever happened between you. The fights, the shouts but even more the chats, the making love and the silly conversations you two had late at night, your naked bodies covered by a thin blanket as you chatted about anything and everything. He always thought about your hands mindlessly drawing on his skin, you two drifting off to sleep, and then one of you sneaking out in the middle of the night. No goodbyes to make it easier.

And now the lack of goodbyes felt like an open wound for him.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five years passed and Sebastian believed he had learned to deal with your absence, with the lack of closure. But it was a lie he kept telling himself, even if every year, he kept trying your phone number, your email, sending texts and notes, until your phone number was discontinued and probably sold again, for a new owner and your email stopped receiving and his letters would not go through. He never changed his own number, expecting you to eventually call.

When he announced his retirement, a small part of him hoped you’d reach out once you got the news. You never did.

After his announcement, he decided to resort to desperate measures and hired a private investigator. And finally, after a couple months since the end of his last season, he got news on you.

Ben, his P.I., got an image of you in a café in a quaint little town, you sitting down, sipping some coffee and reading a book. The image was a little blurry, probably taken from a long distance, but it looked like you.

Now, Sebastian was retired and had free time, and he immediately packed a suitcase and went to the town. He arrived there on a friday morning, and after checking in at a small but comfortable inn, he went straight to the café. Ben had told him the photo was taken in the late morning, so since very early, he went to the café and decided to wait for you. Ordering a coffee and a muffin, he waited.

And waited. And waited.

Hours and hours and a bunch of coffees and muffins later, the staff were looking at him strangely, and one of the ladies looked at him with pity, warning they were about to close.

“Were you waiting for someone, boy?” She asked.

“Yes, uh- a friend,” He sighed, standing up. He said your name, and the woman seemed to recognize the name, “She’s this tall,” He gestured, showing your height, and gave a brief physical description of you, and the woman nodded.

“I know her! Very sweet but also a bit stubborn.”

“I thought I might find her here, but…” He shrugged, giving his best puppy look to the older woman.

It didn’t take much for the woman to give him your address, and despite the urge to go straight there, Sebastian knew it was late, signaled by the café closing and he knew small towns like this usually went to sleep early. So he went to the inn, taking a shower and going to bed, trying to sleep, trying to get to the following day.

But his racing heart was making it impossible to sleep, and he laid on the bed, thinking of you, going in and off sleep, dreaming of you.

In the morning, he had breakfast and went to your address in a moment that wasn’t too early in the morning. Your house was a medium sized family looking home, cozy, a big front and backyard. It looked like somewhere to have a family in and to grow old.

He walked up to your porch, drying his hands on his jeans and before he could hesitate, he rang the doorbell.

He wondered if you would welcome him, at least as a friend. His nerves wondered if you had gotten married, had a family, and he was just a pathetic and creepy guy for never moving on from you. He wondered if-

You opened the door, freezing the moment your eyes met his. Sebastian looked at your face, still as stunning as ever, showing small signs of aging, but they suited your face beautifully. Your hair was longer, natural, and your face looked healthy, with a beautiful sunny hue to it.

“Principessa”

“Sebastian…” You said, shocked, “What- How…?”

“Can I come in?” He asked. You nodded, awkwardly scooting away from the doorway so he could come inside.

“I- do you want some tea?” You offered, unsure of how to feel with his presence so out of the blue.

“Yeah,” He nodded, following you inside and sitting on an armchair as you signaled him to. A small teapot on the coffee table between you, “I’ve been looking for you. Why did you disappear?” He asked, his voice almost tinged with despair.

You tried to think of what to say for a moment, pouring two mugs of tea to gather your thoughts, to grapple with the fact that Sebastian Vettel, your rival, lover and friend was there, suddenly, after five long years.

“What happened to you?” He asked again, his voice almost in pain.

“That crash happened…” You said, hands around the warm mug.

“It was worse than they made it seem, wasn’t it?” Sebastian said, a knowing look on his face when you nodded, getting up and slowly walking to a drawer on your bookshelf, he noticed how you favored one leg. You pulled a file from the drawer and walked back to the couch, handing it to him.

Silently, Sebastian opened the file, going through medical reports of you, all dated back to five years ago on that fateful night. You looked like you were avoiding looking at the files, busying yourself with preparing tea for the both of you. Sebastian read through the papers, and what caught his eyes were an x-ray of your knee, the one you were limping now, and a transverse fracture of your spine.

“Oh, my god…” Sebastian whispered, horrified. He stopped on a picture of you laying in a hospital bed, eyes red and puffy from crying that weren’t the main focus of the image, instead it was your knee, immobilized, held in place by a lot of metal pins, “What did they do to you…?”

“The crash, it bursted my knee. I almost lost my leg… Fracture, torn ligament, it was hanging by a thread. And my spine, a fracture that could’ve hindered me to a wheelchair for the rest of my life. It was brutal, my knee took the brunt of the impact, and my back was the split car…” You explained, almost robotically, like you had rehearsed that speech, your eyes were wet as you fought the tears, “They said I was lucky. Lucky I didn’t lose a leg, lucky I didn’t end up paraplegic…” You sighed, swallowing the tears, “They said I could never go back to a racing car again, because the G Forces could put too much strain on my injuries, not to mention, if I injured these two spots again, it would be risking more permanent damages. I was lucky I pulled through.”

There was bitterness in your voice, and how could you not feel bitter about that? How could you not feel angry and sad and mourn the life you once had. A life where racing had been everything to you.

“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian reached for your hand, his expression completely crestfallen, “We had seen how that car was completely unreliable, how sometimes it worked and sometimes it was a hazard to you. I never thought it could end this badly…”

“And… I’m sorry I disappeared. I know you tried contacting me for a while, but… I just couldn’t see anything related to Formula 1. I couldn’t be near all that without feeling a gut wrenching pain, without feeling anger for anything related to motorsports… I just had to get away from all that.” You explained, looking lost and Sebastian could understand your pain. Despite the times he felt angry and sad for your disappearance, now that he knew about your reason to leave completely… he understood, “I’m sorry. I know you and some other drivers tried reaching out, but I just… I wasn’t in the right mind.”

“I understand. I can’t even imagine what you went through…” he said, his voice so understanding that a lump lodged into your throat, “how was recovery?”

“About a couple of years between the back fracture and the knee… A few surgeries, lots of physiotherapy. Lots of pain and sleepless nights…”

“Did you think about fighting, suing…?” He asked softly.

“I did… I was so angry. I wanted to sue all of them, the team, the FIA, the president. But then…” You paused for a second, “It’d drag out for god knows how long, they would surely bring all the weapons, smear campaigns, defamation, and… My image as a driver, as a person, would just be even more exploited. And I was so tired, I just wanted to heal away from all that.”

“I was so worried for a while. One day I saw your manager leaving the Red Bull hospitality…”

“There was a deal. They offered me an absurd amount of money for me to not sue them, to not bring to light what happened. They also paid for all my medical bills. I also made sure they would review the safety regulations, so no driver would have to risk their life like that again. And I know you’ll say it’s not fair, that they got away with it, but… I was just so tired. I spent my whole life playing a role, being the image they wanted… that tragic ending to my career was all I got? I genuinely wanted to disappear for the longest time after that,” You said, voice cracking for a moment, “Racing was my driving force and suddenly it was ripped away from me.”

“I wish I could’ve been there for you.” He whispered, which made your eyes water for a bit, but you looked at the ceiling, willing the tears away.

“I was a mess, there would be nothing you could do for me…” You said with a devastatingly sad little smile, “And I kept myself completely blocked from Formula 1.”

“Do you still feel pain?” He asked suddenly after a few seconds of silence.

“Physically?” You shook your head, “Sometimes a little discomfort when I’m in places where the weather is very cold.”

“And emotionally?” He whispered and you looked away, swallowing.

“You’re a racer, you can imagine…” That’s all you said.

Sebastian nodded softly, he couldn’t imagine being stopped from doing the one thing he loved the most right in his prime, in the heights of his career like you. And in one fleeting moment having that all stripped away. Your ability to do what you trained your whole life for.

“How-” He cleared his throat, deciding to change topics, “How are you living here? Enjoying?”

“Yeah, lots of free time and new hobbies…” You said, looking grateful for the change in topic, “Wanna see my garden?”

“Sure,” he nodded and you both stood up, he let you lead, his eyes dropping to your slight limp, and the constant sound of the cane hitting the floor with your steps.

You took him around your garden, where there were plants, flowers and even a small cultivation of vegetables. Everything was well cared for and groomed, there was even a small greenhouse where you guided him inside. He could barely look away from your face, your pretty eyes, your lovely lips and beautiful face that only got prettier with time.

“And here…” You stopped inside the greenhouse, “Some plants that are a little more sensitive… Tomatoes, some strawberries…” You grabbed a small clipper and handed him a fresh strawberry.

He stared at you, a silly smile on his face, watching as you grabbed a strawberry and took a small bite, the juices coating your lips in a pinkish color. His eyes dropped to your hand, noticing the absence of a wedding ring, or an engagement ring.

“Do you have a significant other?” He asked, interrupting your ramble for a moment, which made you blink, blushing slightly.

“No, I-” You paused, timid, “No…”

He walked closer, entering your personal space, his hand on your jaw, holding gently, his thumb slowly wiping the leftover strawberry juice on your lower lip.

You looked at him, tempted, looking like you wanted to risk everything. But then you scolded your face, walking away from him and back to your house. He just followed you, until you two were back in your living room. He went after you, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Sebastian,” you sighed, unsure of what to say.

“What about us?” he asked, and there was so much unsaid, but you didn’t need words when you could see it all in his eyes.

And despite wanting so badly to give in, to give a real shot to something you never got the chance to explore, you also knew you were still a mess, and being away from Formula 1 for so long, you didn’t want to bring back all the bad feelings you had regarding it. It would put an even bigger strain on you two.

Things were so complicated now, you didn’t tell him you never stopped thinking about him. That you were haunted by what-ifs, that you would have vivid dreams of a family and a future with him. You didn’t tell him about all the sweaty nights when the memories of your shared passion kept you awake. And you didn’t tell him the last thing you saw before passing out after the crash were his shiny blue eyes.

“I’ve been away from motorsports for so long, and I don’t know if-”

“I retired. Last year,” He interrupted you, “and it won’t matter to us. We have so much else to explore…”

“Sebastian… I’m a mess. I look okay now, but I still have bad days. Awful days. And it’s ugly.” You said, voice clipped. Like you weren’t allowing yourself to want, to just take a leap and do what you have yearned for so long.

“I don’t care, don’t you see that I lo-”

“You need to go,” You said walking to the door to open it, as Sebastian paused like a dejavú, “Leave, Sebastian.”

He swallowed, remembering that time you said the exact same words that sent him away. That time he did exactly that, respecting your wishes instead of his own. Gulping, Sebastian took a step forward and turned around on your porch, walking away. He stopped midway to his car, looking over his shoulder. You were still rooted to the spot, watching him. He looked down at his own feet.

“Fuck it,” He muttered under his breath.

He marched back, long strides up to your porch, so fast that you could barely register when he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up in a hug, his face nuzzled into your neck, breathing in.

“No,” he whispered against your skin, “I’m not letting you go again. Ever.”

And then finally, finally, you hugged him back, tightly around his neck silently because there was no need for words, a silent understanding of finding each other again. Of having someone like him, who fought for you, to find you even when you thought you shouldn’t be found. When you broke the hug, Sebastian held your face with both hands, his thumb gently wiping the tears you had shed during the hug.

“I love you, Principessa.”

“Even now? Even after all this time?” You asked, voice shaky but your eyes with a glimmer of hope.

“Even after all this time,” He nodded, blue eyes shining in happiness, a barely contained smile on his face.

“I love you too, by the way,” You said, shyly and hiding your face into his chest.

“No, that won’t do,” He laughed, a playful cocky chuckle, “I need you to look me in the eyes when you say it,” He tangled his fingers on your hair at the nape, tugging gently so he could make you look up at him, when you did, there was this playful look in his face and you almost melted right there.

“I love you, Sebastian,” You smiled, feeling silly. Sebastian nodded, leaning forward to peck your cheek, his lips slowly descending your jaw and neck.

“Let me stay,” He asked, his lips brushing your skin and making you shudder, closing your eyes.

“Only if you stay forever,” You smiled, and he started walking you backwards, entering your house again, his hands on your hips helping you stay up as he gently nipped your neck.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” He said, kicking the door closed behind him, “You also owe me a date, Princess. Remember?” He gently laid you down on the sofa, slowly laying down on top of you, “And I intend to charge it, with all the interest fees…” He joked, pressing a soft kiss to your chin.

-----

TAGLIST: @ririgy @ironmaiden1313 @w4ltmeister @vellicora @hopefulsophie @chloeannabelle @rebelatbay @crashingwavesofeuphoria @zoeyjadetice2010

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel #sv5 #sv5 x reader #sv5 imagine

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maxillness · 8 months ago

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🇦🇹 || Day 26: Tightness || T.W x Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, pwp, daddy kink Wordcount: 0.3k

This is why i never write pwp; they always end up being so fucking short (like my height)

"So fucking tight" Toto groaned, slowly pushing himself into her, giving her an inch at a time "Always so fucking tight. And just for me" He kissed her jaw, chuckling at hearing her whimpers and moans

"Just for you, daddy" Her words came out as a breathless whine

Her hands were clung onto his back, nails scraping his skin, sure to leave scratches for her to kiss tomorrow. His hands were clung on tight to her hips, starting to slowly move inside her, feeling her clenching around him

"Fuck. You're so fucking tight that i might not last that long" He chuckled, hearing her low and breathless moans

"Daddy, please. Faster" Her words were slurred between her moans, and her eyes shut so tight it drew out a headache

"Anything for my girl" He said, kissing her lips, speeding up his movements, hitting the spot inside her that made her see stars and moan out so loud that the whole apartment complex could hear her

"Fuck, yes, daddy. Right there. Keep going" She moaned out, clinging even harder onto him, not caring the tiniest bit if her nails hurt him

He let out a string of German curses, indicating he was close. As was she, clenching around him, only making her tighter, pulling him closer

"So fucking tight, gonna come" His grip on her hips were tighter, sure to leave marks

"Please, daddy. Wanna feel your cum in me. Want you to fill me up" She grabbed his jaw, looking deep into his eyes, getting lost in the colour of them "I'm close. Please"

"Fuck. Come for me baby" He moaned, closing the grab between their mouths, kissing her roughly

It only took a few more thrusts of his hips before she came around him, clenching rapidly around him, the sensation too overwhelming for him, making him come undone deep inside her

"You're so pretty when you come" She said, making him chuckle as he laid down beside her

"Come on. Let's shower" He said standing up from the bed, pulling her with him, supporting her weight into his body, guiding her towards the bathroom

#smut #formula one #toto wolff #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x reader smut #kinktober 2024

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lucozadehulahoop · 2 years ago

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A Question of Time (Astarion x afab!Tav) part 4/?

Chapter summary: Astarion comes to terms with the peculiar effects of Tav's blood running through his veins, and leaving her is becoming more difficult than he'd originally anticipated.

Also: Astarion unwillingly finds himself reading a smut fic.

Tags and T.W.:pre-bg3!Astarion, slave!Astarion, demi-goddess!tav, kinda NSFW (minors stay away kindly, thank you darlings).

words: 2.5k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

Tav felt the bite before she could even see it coming.

In her complete state of confusion, he twisted her hands even tighter in Astarion's shirt, frightened yet seeking comfort from the strong hold he had on her at the same time.

They were completely locked in on each other, almost as if letting a single breath of air between them would have been a fatal mistake.

Tav whimpered softly as her mind finally caught up with the sharp pain in her neck, the languid pull of her blood being drained from her flesh. She would have been lying if she said she hadn't already suspected something about Astarion's nature, but it had never quite mattered to her in the grand scheme of things.

"A-Astarion..." She pleaded with him, uncertain on whether he'd be able to stop himself. Tav wasn't human, she could withstand most perils situations that others couldn't, but neither of them could know the consequences of a vampire drinking her blood of all people.

Astarion was completely lost in his bliss. Not only had he just broken one of his Master's cardinal commandments by drinking the blood of a thinking creature, but he'd just switched from two centuries of eating rats and dogs to sipping on the very ambrosia of the gods.

He felt strong. No, more than that, he felt invincible, like he could walk right up to Cazador and snap him in half if he wanted to.

The next thing he felt was warmth begin to spread through his body in the first time since forever. He let out a groan of relief, sinking his teeth even deeper into Tav's neck, making her cry out. "Astarion, please!" And that, was when he finally remembered himself and what he was doing, his eyes flying open in alarm.

He was very careful to hold her still as to not hurt her while he retracted his fangs in the most gentle manner he could muster. "Oh what have I done-- what have I done?" Astarion cursed himself as he looked at Tav' vacant eyes and the giant gaping wound he'd just given her. In a fit of panic, he first attempted to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on her neck with his hand, then opted to do the same with the nearest, cleanest piece of fabric he could find.

He brought her over to the bed so she could lay down, never once stopping the pressure he was keeping over he wound. "Tav? Tav, darling, keep those pretty eyes on me now--" Astarion tried his best to keep her from drifting further away from him, but his attempts were seeming more and more fruitless by the second. "No, no don't you do this to me, okay? I made a mistake --- a truly wretched mistake. I never meant-I never wanted to hurt you please-"

Astarion suddenly heard the words he was speaking out loud in his own head. Was he worried? For someone else other than him? Was he afraid to... lose Tav? He blinked a single tear and realised his face wasn't just wet with Tav's blood. He was... crying.

"Tav, just... just say something... please darling, I'd give anything to... hear that bratty little voice of yours right now..." Astarion pleaded with her silently, undecided if he was more afraid about her dying in his arms or how much it hurt to care about another person again after so long. And why did he care so much about her? The two of them weren't lovers, nor had they known each other long.

Maybe it was the fact Astarion was now aware of what she'd sacrificed for him. That despite appearances, she was just as much of a prisoner inside the Crimson Palace as he was.

It could have been because he saw an affinity in their rather different tragidies. Or maybe... Tav had been the only person he'd met in his undead life that had tried her best to help him without seemingly wanting anything back from him. It could have been that Astarion may have possibly been harbouring the small hope of having found a friend, someone who didn't treat him like a monster or use him for his body. Someone he was beginning to like, that drew him in with her insufferable self righteousness and her pouty lips---

"Shh, quiet..." Her sweet voice came to him finally. "Can't you hear it? Your heart... it's beating." She murmured weakly before falling asleep with her head on his chest.

Astarion feared the worst. Tav was clearly delirious, thinking that she could hear the heart beat of a vampire --- then he felt it too. Incredulously, Astarion put a hand over his chest and listened. His heart... was truly beating.

He laughed in shock, welcoming the tears of joy that ran down his face as he tried his best not to hurt Tav while his hand was still keeping pressure on the wound.

For five more minutes Astarion lay in bed and revelled in the fact he had a beating heart once more. Then, slowly, the steady rhythm began to de down until it finally came to a familiar halt. Tav's blood had briefly, but undoubtedly made him human.

With a cool head once again, Astarion managed to rationalise the intense feelings he'd felt while he'd been worried sick over Tav. He wouldn't have been able to fret over her so much in his normal state, but that didn’t mean they hadn't been real. For a brief moment he'd been yanked out of the hardened selfish shell that came with being a vampire and he'd remembered what it felt like to care for someone else.

So... he hadn't always been such a bad person, he thought as he gazed down at Tav, who was still sleeping on his chest. Thankfully, he wound had been healing fast, at almost unnatural speed.

That still didn't make things right.

He'd taken something from her forcefully, used her for his own needs. And he would have been a dirty liar if he said he hadn't liked it too. A single taste of her blood and he'd been brought to ecstasy.

Now back in the seat of power, his selfish mind told him Tav was too valuable to let go. She made him strong, gave him unimaginable pleasure. What if... he could walk in daylight if he just drank enough of her blood? Even if only for a few hours...

Things would be even more complicated if Astarion were willing to openly acknowledge how deeply he desired Tav. The mere thought of it scratched at a possessive itch at the back of his brain he hadn't even been aware he had. She may have been powerful, but she was too sweet, too trusting of the world despite the environment she'd experienced. Shouldn't it have been... Astarion's responsibility to keep her from harm? From the terrible monsters out there who wouldn't have thought twice about exploiting her? After all, he owed her, considering everything she had done for him...

...☆...

When Tav woke up, she found tea and biscuits on the bedside table. She tentatively touched the cup with her fingers and found it to be cold, almost as if the beverage had been prepared hours ago.

She looked around to find she was back in her room, snugly tucked into her bed. Reaching for her neck, she let out a slight hiss at how tender her flesh still felt.

"Thought you might like to know... prince charming himself is here... and I doubt he's looking for me..." Astarion sneered as he looked out the window, his sharp eyes zeroing in on the valiant young knight who'd come to court Tav. It should have been none of his business. The sun had nearly almost set and it was about time he himself go going before he wasted another night.

Tav barely managed to sit up on the bed. It didn't usually take her so long to recover whenever she got hurt. Yet, she was feeling rather... sluggish and warn out. "Oh... is it one of those people asking for handkerchiefs again?" Tav huffed, closing her eyes and rubbing her midriff a little. "Just throw one down for him, will you Astarion? I don't understand... is there a shortage of cloth in the city? There's always a new one coming around... singing a song or asking very nicely..."

Astarion gave Tav a look of pure confusion. Did she really think that knights and nobles trying to serenate her at dusk were simply people who needed handkerchiefs? It clicked in his head then, that when a lady would give a token of her favour, the token usually resembled something akin to an embroidered cloth or handkerchief.

When the realisation hit, he burst out laughing in Tav's face.

"What?" Tav searched his face for a reason to his hilarity, now she was the one to be confused. "The first time it happened... this gentleman showed up, he was a terrible singer, kept me up all night with his... whining... so I started throwing things at him. Out of the pile, he picked at a handkerchief, seemed pretty happy, and left. Never saw him again. The others have been more or less the same."

It wasn't hard to believe they never came back. Trespassing on Cazador's grounds at night was dangerous business. Astarion grinned to himself in a rather evil thought. Tav had been unknowingly drawing in a fair amount of unsuspecting prey, and for some reason, it gave him great satisfaction to know all of her suitors up to that point had come to a rather sticky end.

"Darling, let me explain something to you—" Astarion began to say as he walked towards her, but he was interrupted by the lousy notes of a poorly strummed lute. The terrible sound of it made him visibly cringe.

"My lady — oh, fair lady —" The voice outside began to sing out of tune.

"Oh no..." Tav whined. "Just, throw something down the window of the tower for him, will you? I really am not in the right state to deal with this right now..."

"Sure, how about that priceless pianoforte in your music room?" Astarion snickered. "I bet that will keep him quiet. For good."

"No! I do not want you to flatten the poor man with my piano!... just... let's just try to ignore it..." Tav searched through a pile of books next to her bed, deciding to attempt reading as a distraction.

"Oh lady, lady of the tower-

Why, oh why would you leave me so... sour?"

"Oh sweet hells, is this guy actually serious?" Astarion cursed and shook his head, marching over to open the window and peek his head out. The knight was unsurprisingly taken back by seeing him instead of Tav.

"I say, are you incapable of taking a hint?" Astarion shouted down at him. The man was gobsmacked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. "The lady of the tower is rather indisposed at this moment..." He said languidly, purposely making the man draw the wrong conclusions. "In fact, she is completely bedridden... if you catch my meaning... I do apologize as it is completely my fault..."

Okay, so maybe he was laying it on a bit too thick. But it wasn't as if Astarion was jealous or anything. He just enjoyed messing with people. It was one of life's little pleasures.

"Now get lost, the last thing you want is to get caught out there after dark..." Astarion gave him one last warning before closing the windows shut.

"You didn't have to be so mean to him, you know?" Tav said as Astarion turned back to face her.

He took in the state he'd left her in and hated the fact he was sprouting a sense of empathy at an incredibly inconvenient time for him. Tav had done so much for him, and he'd yet to hear her screaming at him for taking a chunk out of her without permission.

Astarion didn't want to say goodbye. He decided then and there he was going to leave as soon as Tav fell back to sleep, which in her condition was probably going to be soon. All he needed to do was speed the process along.

He picked up the first book he could find on her drawing desk and sat down in a chair next to her bed.

Astarion looked at the title on the cover and tried his best not to roll his eyes. Tristan and Iseult. Of course, he had to go and pick a love story.

"You really don't have to read to me just because you feel bad-" Tav began to say, but Astarion cut her off.

"Excuse me, I'll have you know I am a very prolific reader, and you, my dear, seem to have a lack of understanding when it comes to courtship so this will be... an informative way to pass the time." He said, and swallowed thickly, already dreading the experience.

"How so?" Tav asked, blinking up at him curiously.

"Because-" Astarion huffed, already feeling uncomfortable in his chair. "This-" he said, wagging the book up in the air. "Is one of greatest love stories of all time and maybe you'll be... more aware of what's going on the next time some fool comes singing underneath your window..."

Tav raised a quizzical eyebrow at him, but asked no further questions. Astarion cleared his throat and began the reading. He was surprised to find the story was a lot less boring than he'd remembered, clearly catching on to the fact it was an unofficial re-telling of some sorts, due to new characters and extra encounters he'd never known from the original version.

Unfortunately, Tav was very interested too, hanging off his every word. She didn't seem like she was about to fall asleep any time soon. Astarion did his best to counteract this by letting his voice drone on in a deep soothing tone, yet his eyes almost jumped out of his skull when the tender love story took a very unexpected turn.

"Tristan watched as his fair love drank down the potion so hastily, the liquid spilled down her perfect neck and between the curves of her---" Astarion coughed nervously and turned the page, hoping Tav wouldn't notice as he skipped to the following passage. "Both drunk on the intense effects of the love potion, with trembling hands they reached for----- t-their, um, thriving bodies---"

"Hey! You skipped a section!" Tav protested.

"No, I didn't!" Astarion huffed back, pressing a hand to his forehead. How in the hells had he ended up recanting some bard's published smut-fic, he would never know.

"Let me see that..." Tav snatched the book from his hands and it was all Astarion could do as he jumped on her bed like a cat to get it back.

---

tag list (if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!): @d0nutkaky0in @i-just-want-to-sleep-97 @omggiannarosa @dead-giirl-walking @warbwarts @mrsfullbuster500 @uwomina @iyaesakura @cheeslyy @dragon-kazansky @bambamwolf87 @chibi-chi @orsomethingelseentirely @davenswitcher @adequate-superstar @ophelias-flowerss @tragedybunny @yaimlight @the-golden-ouroboros @candyladycry @babygirlbrainrot @mariposakitten @blobs-away @biganddrunkunicorn @astarionmisc @the-garbage-central @raviolixxx @banana-beans-police @screechingphantommaker @sunnanse @faefanatic @in-the-bleak-midwinters

#astarion x reader #astarion #astarion angst #astarion fic #astarion fluff #astarion smut #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion x y/n #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 x f!reader #astarion x afab!reader

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formulakracing · 3 months ago

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i. now or never - t.w.

pairing -> student intern!reader x toto wolff

word count -> 1.7k

warnings -> cursing, age gap relationships, power imbalance, a little bit of toxicity, toto being sexy (as always), world-building, mentions of marijuana use, mentions of alcohol use, allusions to sexual fantasies, SLOW BURN (fr this time) yadayadayada (if i missed somethin’ lemme know)

a/n -> i apologize in advance if the internship i write about is nothing like an actual internship for mercedes LMFAO also, bear with me. i know it starts slow but it will pick up!

"oh, great. you're bringing up this fucking internship again. why are you always going on and on about this stupid program?"

swallowing thickly, you drum your fingers on the table, shrugging ever so slightly, "why not? i think it would be a great opportunity for not only grad school, but for career advancement. do you know how many doors that would open for me if i—"

"you'd be gone for an entire year. that's why i don't think it's a good idea."

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

inhaling sharply, you bite down on your tongue, suppressing a sharp retort.

why does it matter if i have to leave for a year? it's not like you care enough about my interests anyway.

he arches a brow, cocking his head, "why aren't you saying anything?"

"because it's not worth bickering about," fingers curling around the misty glass, you swirl it around, watching as the bubbles float to the surface, "you're right. i'd be gone for a year. it's such a competitive program. i don't even think i'm good enough to get in. they probably prioritize european students anyway. the deadline for the application is due in a week. there's no way i could get everything together in time. it's not worth all the hassle."

"good girl," he hums in approval, shoving a few fries in his mouth, "you know i support you throughout everything you do. i just don't want you to pour all of your energy into this one project just to be rejected. i know you. you'd be devastated. you wouldn't leave your apartment for weeks."

do you know me though? do you really?

the waitress slips by the table, sliding a receipt toward the middle of the table, "here's the bill, as requested. have a great night! be safe getting home!"

gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you wait until her back is turned. exhaling, you pick up the bill, "i'll get it."

"you sure?" he presses, "i'll cover the tip then."

"sounds good."

fishing your phone out of your pocket, you let it hover over the qr code. typing in your card information, you can't help but notice him fumbling with his pockets, searching for his wallet.

puckering your lips, it's your turn to tilt your head, "did you forget your wallet at home?"

"yeaaaaahhhh," his lower lips quivers, forming a pout, "would you mind? i can just venmo or cashapp you later."

"sure," clicking your tongue, you select the tip percentage on the screen, ensuring that the waitress receives a few more dollars than suggested, "okay, it's paid for. let's go."

he follows in suit as you slide out of the booth, shoving your arms in your jacket. pulling his phone out, his attention is fixated on the dim screen, fingers a flurry as he types away.

"hey, one of the boys is going through some shit. you mind if i catch an uber over to his place? i'll be home later."

"like how late?"

"i don't know," he shakes his head, gaze glued on whatever he was possibly reading, "it's matteo. his girlfriend cheated on him. it looks like he could use cheering up."

"i don't care," your eye twitches, yet you wave a hand, "as long as you don't wake me up when you get back."

"of course baby," he coos, placing a tender peck on your cheek, "get some safe, okay?"

"i will," you nod, "love you."

"love you too!" he beams, pulling you in for a quick embrace, "i'll be back before midnight."

"okay."

it's a quiet trek through the parking lot.

a breeze rolls through the cars, promising of frigid weather. tangerine rays filter through the trees, the sun making its descent toward the horizon. the sky is a blanket of a tranquil blue, with traces of lavender and magenta as dusk transitions to night.

clicking your key fob, your vehicle chirps, the engine roaring to life. opening the door, you nearly collapse into the seat, your vision blurred by tears. sniffling, you ensure your seat belt is on, shifting the gear into reverse.

as you pull out of the parking lot, you catch a glimpse of your boyfriend as he clambers into the uber. you try to wave, to muster some sort of smile, but he is not paying any sort of attention as your car soars by.

at that, the tears erupt into sobs.

by no means was your boyfriend a terrible man. he was more than adequate, actually. however, the sheer disdain in his voice over the idea of your pursuing this internship left a sour taste in your mouth.

to be honest, it was more like an awful, putrid taste, bile rising up in the back of your throat as you wallow over the interaction, knuckles turning white as you grip the steering wheel.

the internship in question?

well, it was more like a job opening.

you left that part out, just so that your family and boyfriend would be more apt to the idea. after all, they did not need to know all of the particulars.

all they needed to know is that you were prepping for the opportunity of a lifetime.

an opportunity overseas to work with the mercedes amg petronas formula one team as a member of their media crew.

the internship spanned over the course of several months, following the team throughout the season. from what you could make out from the application, you would start just shy of the season opener in melbourne, around march third. the end date was unclear, but you figured it would end around the time the season was over in december. in all, you would be away from home for nine months.

and your internship duties? all you had to do was travel to luxurious cities, meet fans, promote the team across their social media platforms, and most importantly, film the races.

and the best part? it was a paid internship. mercedes would not only pay you for working with them, but they would also cover travel costs, food, and even software upgrades. additionally, you would receive a monthly stipend for your own personal spending, just so that you could "enjoy your time with us to the fullest."

it was everything you could have dreamed of and more.

so, what was holding you back?

well, there were a few things.

one, was your boyfriend. he was not keen on the idea of you leaving the country, even if it was only for a few months. he was very adamant that if you were to take this internship, then he would end your relationship.

according to him, nine months was too much for him to do long distance. although, the two of you had temporarily engaged in a long distance relationship before he transferred back home.

two, was your family. similar to your boyfriend, they were not happy about the idea of you leaving. they felt that formula one was too flashy. too extravagant. you would not fit in with all of the wealthy moguls and influencers.

you belonged here, in your mediocre college town where no one ever left. you would fare much better spending every weekend frequenting the same bars over and over again, running into the same people, making awkward, monotone small talk. besides, what if the internship was a scam? what if it wasn't everything you hoped it would be?

and the third reason?

well, it was a bit more complicated.

you had a bit of impostor syndrome, as you felt your skills were not good enough. your editing was too choppy. your transitions were not quite neat enough to fit the speed of the cars. since you were an amateur, your work was mainly posted across your instagram and tik tok accounts. your resume was nowhere near as elegant as the other potential applications.

so, why even try? why apply to something like this?

well, ever since you were a little girl, you dreamed of working in motorsports. you weren't quite sure of what you would do at the time, but you knew that it was your calling.

every time you watched a race or posted an edit, there was a shiver that ran down your spine, goosebumps appearing all over. there was a pull at your heart, nearly tugging away at you.

it was enticing, begging you to keep watching. to keep compiling clips together. to keep creating material that was crafted by you, and only you.

it called to push your creativity to the limits. to chase that dream.

to satisfy that hunger deep in your soul.

with graduation only if a few months, you were running out of time. it was now or never. make it or break it.

it was time to push yourself. it was time to break free from the clutches of your college town. it was time to take the leap, one that you had been putting off for so fucking long.

it was time to finally put yourself first.

to choose something that would bring you nothing but pure, immense joy.

and as you pulled into your driveway, you threw open your car door. scurrying inside, you made your way to your room, pushing the door open. tossing your bag on your bed, you hunker at your desk, locating that bookmarked tab.

everything was in order. you had the letters of recommendation. the personal statement was attached. the resume was completed. the portfolio was uploaded.

all you had to do was press that final square.

submit.

your index fingers hovers above the button, nearly trembling.

squeezing your eyes shut, you apply pressure, a clicking ringing in your ears.

within seconds, a new message appears across your screen.

thank you for your interest in this internship with the mercedes amg petronas formula one media team!

after receiving your application, our team will diligently look over your application and submit it for review.

a decision will be made in approximately six to eight weeks. once we have made our decision, you should receive an email in your inbox. make sure to check your spam, as it may be sent there.

we wish you the best of luck!

#toto wolff x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #toto wolff #student intern reader #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff fanfic

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princessseeun · 26 days ago

Text

Only You

🎵Diet Pepsi - Addison Rae🎵

pairings: san x bottom!mreader

genre: smut

t.w. : san sucks you off 🤭, @bernardsbendystraws

POLL FF, PART ONE

It’s been a long day.

You're slouched on the couch, hoodie on — his hoodie — oversized, warm, and still faintly carrying the scent of him: fresh laundry and something distinctly San. The low hum of the TV plays in the background, forgotten.

You barely register him walking in until you feel the dip of the cushion beside you and the touch of his hand on your knee. He’s kneeling in front of you now, sleeves pushed up, hoodie loose, hair falling in his eyes.

“You’ve been quiet,” he says gently, voice soft but grounding. “Rough day?”

You nod.

He doesn’t ask for more. He just looks at you like you’re the only thing in the room. His hand slides up your thigh, warm and steady. Then he leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your neck.

“Let me take care of you.”

His voice is low. Not commanding — comforting. Like an offer. A promise.

You don’t answer. You just exhale, body leaning into him like instinct. That’s all he needs.

He helps you shift back on the couch, pulls your sweatpants down slowly, eyes never leaving yours. There’s no rush in him. Just hunger in the way his hands explore, how he spreads your legs with gentle pressure and kisses down your stomach, slow and worshipful.

“Can I?” he asks softly, his breath ghosting over your length. “Want you to feel good. Let me?”

Your hand finds his hair, fingers threading in. You nod.

San smiles. Just a little. Then he bends down and devours you — not with aggression, but focus. Care. Worship. Tongue slow at first, tracing every inch like he’s memorizing you. His hands press into your thighs, keeping you steady while his mouth works you open.

“Fuck—San…” you breathe.

He hums around you, the sound sending a shiver through your spine. He loves that. You can see it in the way his eyes flick up to watch your face, like he lives for every twitch, every curse you whisper. One hand slips under the hoodie you’re wearing — his hoodie — to rest on your stomach, grounding you.

“That’s it,” he murmurs when he comes up for air, voice wrecked. “You sound so good. Wanna hear you fall apart for me.”

He doesn't stop until you do.

When you come, it’s intense — sharp pleasure and deep relief. He stays right there, mouth and hands moving gently until your thighs stop shaking.

Then he crawls back up, resting on top of you, hoodie bunched up around his arms, breath warm against your jaw.

“You good?” he asks softly, wiping at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” you manage, still dazed. “Fuck.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“You looked like you needed to be taken care of,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Let me know when you’re ready for round two.”

He grinds down into you just enough for you to feel how hard he still is — and you know damn well he hasn't even touched himself yet.

“Didn’t you…?”

San shakes his head, dragging his hoodie off with one hand, his smile turning sly.

“Told you. Tonight’s about you

#san x male reader #ateez smut #ateez #san x reader #ateez san #kpop x male reader #male idol x male reader #x male reader #male reader #mlm smut

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league-of-sam · 1 year ago

Text

Don't Be Shy | Konig x Reader

Kӧnig x TF141 x AFAB!Reader

PART THREE

Summary: Transferred against your will to a new task force to calm a troubled soldier, you felt way in over your head - especially when you came face to face with a 6'10" mountain of Austria. 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, human trafficking, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

1 / 2 / 4 / 5

Over the next week, every effort that you made to befriend Kӧnig was met with uninterested grunts, or his complete ignorance of you.

It was disheartening, to say the least.

You were the kind of person that enjoyed making people’s days better, and the mere thought that he hated you this much hurt you, a lot. The constant nagging from Ghost and Soap didn’t help either. They video called you every night without fail, inundating you with questions, and Soap teasing you every time your cheeks tinted red.

The people on the KorTac team were nice enough, but the way they treated one of their own just didn’t sit right with you.

And that’s why you found yourself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Looking at the clock on your side table, the red numbers flashed angrily at you; 03:12. Sighing, you flung the clovers from your body, and jumped out of bed.

Slipping on some black leggings and one of Gaz’s old hoodies that you’d stolen, you picked up your rifle and a few rounds, and headed out towards the firing range.

You’d found that at this time, the place was empty.

You were able to be alone in an environment that you loved.

It was odd to say that. The place you were calmest almost always resulted in ending lives. But you guessed that was the life of a soldier.

Lying down in the dirt, flat on your stomach with a giant gun weighing heavy in your fingers and pulling the trigger from miles away with a slow release of breath.

Calming.

You trudged along the tarmac towards the range, a large building on the outskirts of the base. At this time in the morning, there wasn’t a soul in sight, but you still opted to be as quiet as possible as you moved around.

Slinging your rifle over your shoulder, you pushed the heavy metal door open slowly, just enough for you to squeeze through before shutting it gently behind you. You went to wince as it shut louder than you intended, but the sound of a gunshot rippling through the building silenced you.

Your head turned swiftly, only to see two very long legs coming from your usual cubicle.

A flurry of German speech sounded, frustrated groans and thuds stunning you to complete stillness. He’d not spoken to you for a week, and now, the two of you were completely alone. You went to leave, but foolishly, your quick turn caused the butt of your rifle to clang against the door, signalling your presence.

“Bitte! Who is there?” the man spoke.

Timidly, you stepped forward into his eyeline, “I-it’s just me…sorry, usually when I come no one is here I’ll go-”

“Nein.” he grunted, turning away from you to line up another shot.

You expected him to say more, but he turned his attention back to the target, firing another shot and missing. Barely, but he cursed profusely under his breath, head dropping in defeat.

“Uh, I…you should, uh, rotate your hips more.” You stuttered out, “It’ll give you more stability with the kickback, and raise your aim two notches.”

He turned to face you; expression completely unreadable under the hood.

His gaze made you nervous, and you shifted on your feet, hands moving to clutch your own rifle. To your surprise, he nodded, and did exactly that. His next shot hit the target, but not quite in the bullseye.

Wordlessly, you set up your things in the booth next to him, sliding open the small hatch so that he could see you.

“You know what you’re doing, Kӧnig, it’s just your positioning that’s a little off.” You spoke, “Do what I do.”

With that, you got into position, grinding yourself down to be as close as possible to the cemented ground. Your right leg remained straight behind you, while your left bent at the knee, offering support to your arm that rested against it.

You took a deep breath, clearing your mind, before bringing your eye to the scope, and pulling the trigger.

Perfect bullseye.

You smiled at your success, as you always did.

Kӧnig watched you intently, eyes narrowing as you guided him. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He fucking knew that he knew what he was doing, you didn’t need to tell him that. But he was also failing. The shot he took after your pointers was the closest to the target he’d gotten in hours.

“See?” you said, head nodding towards your form, “shift your leg up, gives the back of your arm more support.”

He nodded, and copied you, taking another shot.

It was closer to the bullseye, but still not good enough.

He pushed the rifle away from him, sending it clattering onto the ground, his head dropping into his hands.

“Verdammte hӧlle! (fucking hell!)” he exclaimed, making you jump.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself onto your knees, and crawled around to his booth, settling behind him.

“Can I?” you asked, reaching forward.

Not that you could see, but his face was red as he blushed furiously. You were so close, and being so kind, and you smelt so fucking good.

He didn’t dare speak, and just nodded, his whole body tensing as he felt your tiny hands make contact with the clothed flesh of his thigh.

With shaking fingers, you repositioned him, hands ghosting over his as you moved him to support the gun properly.

“Now try.” You whispered.

Kӧnig took an unnaturally deep breath to still his racing heart. He’d never been so close to such a pretty girl.

Squeezing the trigger, the sound echoed once more, but when you opened your eyes, there was a hole in the middle of the target, smoking.

“JA!” König yelled, turning to look at you, as if to make sure you had been watching him succeed.

You had a wide smile on your face, heart swelling from his happiness.

“Nice work, soldier.” You spoke.

“And they said I couldn’t be a sniper.” He mused. “Uh, danke…(Y/N).”

Your eyes widened slightly, heart skipping as you heard your nickname fall from his lips, “Oh, uh, no problem.”

He turned back to the gun, body fidgeting from the excitement.

Something you’d noticed about him over the last week was his inability to sit still for long periods of time. You found it endearing, but it also made more sense as to why he was denied as a sniper.

You returned to your own booth, the two of you shooting targets for a while, until the kickback from the rifle was starting to make your shoulder ache.

An involuntary whine slipped from your mouth as you sat back with a soft thud, back leaning against the wall as your fingers slowly worked the irritated muscle.

“You hurt?” he spoke quietly, looking at you through the hatch.

“It’s all good, just a little bit of soreness, only downside to the SP-X 80s.”

Your eyes fell closed as you rubbed, biting your lip to stifle the groans of pain desperate to come out. It was the one thing you hated about your job – the huge guns were ruthless.

Kӧnig watched you, sympathy rising in him as his heart continued to beat wildly.

He placed his own gun down and stood. Despite his lumbering size, he moved almost silently, and so it took you by surprise when you opened your eyes, and he was knelt in front of you. Suddenly, the booth seemed so much smaller with the two of you squished into it.

You stared at him with wide eyes, hand stopping.

He slumped back, his spine pressed against the wall opposite you, and planted his feet on the floor. Even sitting down, this man towered over you, his bent knees easily as high off the ground as your own shoulders.

He spread them in front of you, his forearms resting on his knees, and he opened his hands, gesturing to the empty space in between his legs.

“Come.” He said, voice shaking.

“Uh…what?” your mouth dried instantly, heat rising up your neck.

He made the gesture again, kicking your boot with his, “Let me help.”

“Oh, n-no…it’s quite alright, you don’t-”

“Please, you helped me, I help you.”

He tapped your foot once more, clearly not willing to take no for an answer, so you shuffled across, using his tree trunk of a leg to aid you in rotating away from him in the small space.

As soon as your back was to him, you gasped a little as you felt his hands rest on your waist, pulling you towards him with almost no effort. You were practically pressed against his front now, and you felt yourself begin to sweat at the closeness.

Your body jumped slightly as he gently pushed your hair to the side and began kneading the flesh of your shoulder. A satisfied groan left your lips, and König chuckled slightly, the warmth of his breath hitting the back of your neck.

You couldn’t help but relax into his touch, your head rolling back to lean against his chest as your eyes fluttered shut, revelling in the relief he was bringing you.

God, he was good at this.

The contact made him huff, his body stiffening as you rested against him, fuck.

The way your head fell against him…it made his heart race and his mind blank. In this position, he could smell your shampoo, him knowing you must have showered some hours before. He felt himself leaning down to you, wanting to press his head against yours.

“Kӧnig means…king, right?” you spoke softly, as his fingers pressed gently into your skin.

Your voice pulled him out of his trance, and he cleared his throat, spine snapping straight.

“You speak German?” he said, a surprised tone underlying the words.

“Nur ein bisschen (only a little),” you smiled, “I can understand a few phrases, but not a whole lot.”

Kӧnig smiled widely; not only were you talking to him, you were talking to him in his language. All this time, he could have been having pleasant conversations with you, but he tried pushing you away. Guilt made his skin crawl, but he couldn’t help it – you were everything he wanted to be, and he knew you were here to basically babysit him on this mission.

But you were so schӧne (beautiful)…so sweet, so fucking annoyingly perfect.

If he was honest with himself, you’d not left his mind since the day you arrived. Every time he heard you laugh as you spoke to other members of the team, his heart skipped.

He wished he could make you laugh.

“Your pronunciation is good.” He encouraged.

“Danke.” You said, a small laugh escaping with it, “You really know what you’re doing.”

“I am helping, ja?” he responded, his fingers gliding over your skin.

You let out a sigh, your head pressing further into his chest, “Hmm…yeah.”

“Good.” He whispered back.

The silence that followed was comfortable, but when your watch beeped to signal the passing of another hour, you jumped.

The sudden movement on your part caused Kӧnig to panic, and his arms came over your shoulders, locking your body to his. He had acted on instinct, wanting to shield you as much as possible from whatever had frightened you.

“I-I’m alright…it was just my watch. I can be a bit jumpy sometimes.” You said, an awkward laugh following.

Yeah, he knew what that was like.

“Oh…yes, das tut mir leid. (sorry about that.)” He grumbled, letting you go.

Clearing your throat, you stood, dusting off your clothes and picking up your rifle. He followed your actions, and the two of you left the firing range together, walking in silence.

In fact, he walked you all the way to your door, standing awkwardly as you unlocked it. He was already staring at you when you turned back to him.

“Uh, thank-”

“I’m sor-”

The two of you tried to speak, cutting the other off. It made you laugh a little but made Kӧnig all the more nervous.

“You go.” You offered.

“I just wanted to say sorry for being unkind this week.” He mumbled.

Your heart swelled as he refused to meet your gaze, and so, somewhat bravely, you stepped forward, reaching up. Your hand landed on his forearm, causing him look at you.

“I don’t blame you,” you whispered, “People treat you badly here, but you need to know that I was brought here to help, not make your life harder.”

He gulped; mouth dry.

You had the most beautiful eyes.

So full of sincerity and kindness.

With his lack of words, you frowned a little, and dropped your hand back to your side. A shiver ran up his spine at the loss of contact, and he found himself wanting to reach for you.

“Goodnight, Kӧnig.” You smiled.

Before he could answer, you had disappeared into your room, the lock on the door clicking softly.

He stood there for a good five minutes after, his mind running through the events of the evening. All he could focus on was how good you smelled, and how tiny you felt pressed up against him…how soft your flesh was.

Little did he know, you were leant against the door on the other side, breathing heavily with a hand on your chest.

Maybe Soap was right.

Maybe you did have a crush on the Mountain of Task Force KorTac.

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