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#on that note thank you in advance for commenting
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Mission Control 10
Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Captain Hydra
Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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You still don’t know what to call the man. Captain? Rogers? He’s just the man to you. The stranger who doesn’t speak. 
He doesn’t linger. You can’t help but wonder if it’s some game. If he’s playing with you. His stoicism is just another weapon against you. As he leaves, you sit, stunned and lost. Alone. 
The front door of the cabin shuts you in but you don’t know that you would have the courage to let yourself out. The man found you once; unbidden and unexpected, you’re certain he could do it again and again and again. So, you wait until you’re certain the house is empty before you get up. 
You fix the nightgown and hug yourself as you peek through the open bedroom door. You emerge warily and glance through to the bathroom. The front room once jars you further. You forgot how cozy, how normal it seams. 
You wander around the frayed rug and inspect every piece of furniture. A draft runs through the room, blowing in around the door. There’s an iron basket of split logs next to the fireplace. There’s something yellow on top.
You go over and open the packet; inside, a lighter and a little booklet on how to start a fire. Hm. There’s a bag of kindling next to the wood as well. Maybe later. 
You set the packet back down and turn to face the other doorway. The one you’ve not yet ventured through. The kitchen is small but tidy. On the table, there’s a small crate. Within, sorted neatly, are similar silver packets to the one he handed you in the bedroom. They are labeled alongside a large bag of quick oats. 
The oats simply read, ‘Breakfast’. The writing is jagged but legible. Each packet is labeled decisively; Day 1 – Dinner, Day 2 – Lunch... On and on. You turn and face the fridge. The only thing on it is another note. ‘Drink Water. Not Tap.’ Got it. After the complete absence of communication, it’s nice to have at least a little directive. 
You retreat to the bedroom and check the empty packet. Yep, Day 1 – Lunch. Amid the chaos of your abduction and the desolation of this place, the pieces of order stick out sorely. It all feels so fractured. 
You go to the armoir and try to open it. The doors don’t budge. You back up and cross your arms again. You’re really starting to get cold. You should get the fire going before your fingers go completely numb. 
You strip the flannel blanket from the bed and wrap it around your shoulders. You go back into the living room and hep the extra layer at your waist as you sit on your knees and try to figure out the fireplace. After several splinters and some sparks from the lighter, you get a flame struck. 
You stay close and hold up your hands as it begins to lick. You settle down on your butt and hug yourself under the blanket. You watch the flames swirl and your vision blurs with little orbs of colour.  
The questions don’t matter. The answers won’t make a difference. Why are you here? Where is here? No, it’s useless. Just like from the first moment you saw him. You know now, it wasn’t the first time he saw you. 
You hang your head and let it pour out of you. The fear throttles you so you’re choking on your sobs. Your body wracks and your skull throbs. You don’t want to live like this but you’re too afraid to die. 
You wade up from the dregs of your grief and the room comes clear again. You’re on your side before the glowing embers. You sit up and put another piece of wood on the pile then get up. You stagger around to the bedroom, your feet moving without your mind’s intent. 
You go to the corner. You stare at the shelf. The pictures, the stolen parts of your existence, the shank of hair... is gone? You saw him put it there. Oh well. Good riddance. 
You shudder and squint over the images. There’s one from over a year ago. The last time you saw your family. You shake your head and back up. No. No. You didn’t know for that long. Well, how could you expect something like this? 
You sniffle and leave the room. You can’t stay in there. Not with that shrine? Altar? You don’t even know what. 
You take a stiff pillow from the couch and lower yourself in front of the fireplace again. You close your eyes but you don’t know if you’ll be able to sleep. There isn’t much else to do. 
Time skews into a haze. It’s dark, then light, and dark again. Your stomach gurgles but by the time you get the food warm, you’re too sick to eat more than a few bites. As the days wilt by, a stench roils from your body. 
The packets help you track the day, even as you miss some, you try to keep some order in your mind. On Day Four, you dare to try the faucet. The tub pours out steaming water. You adjust it before you sink in. It’s as close to peace as you’ve found. 
As the water stagnates around your body, you can’t help but think. When will he come back? Will he be back? You don’t think he’s out there having fun and frolicking. You could tell by his attire, by the marks of death on that shield. 
You let the water go cold then drain it. You pull the same nightgown on, even as it reeks. You just need something on. You reclaim the blanket and your perch before the fireplace. You wish you had something warm to drink. Coffee or tea. Nothing could ever make this place anything less than a prison, but you wouldn’t mind some comfort. 
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kithtaehyung · 1 day
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[ 240924 ] back to being okay!
whew, y’all.. the projects really got to your girl😅
remind me to not take on too much ever again!! it has been a whirlwind three weeks and tbh i think i shaved some years off my life from that horrendous non-existent sleep schedule. but i’ve learned a lot and will move forward with much more organized plans.
just wanted to give a quick update on current state, and i am happy to say that i’m excited to get back to writing again. properly this time, not just typing on my phone until i fall asleep at night lmaoooo
❤️‍🩹 so the sept/oct posting schedule is looking like so:
minted2 (90% done)
7days2 (80% done)
heaven (knj oneshot)
[tba] (m?? x reader x j?? halloween oneshot)
🤍 then later in the year:
3tanfugue
3tan13
seamless (myg oneshot)
mami2
letsssss get it! thank you all for being so patient as i bumble through life. your words of encouragement and even curiosity about wips really do help me stay on top of things🫂 truly goes to show to never underestimate the power of a simple comment or ask about what you liked about a fic or your hype about it🥳
note: if you’ve sent me a longer ask/message, i’ll be responding to you once i get back on my laptop! thank you so so much in advance, loves❤️‍🩹
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allylikethecat · 7 months
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Chapters: 4/20 Fandom: The 1975 (Band) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: George Daniel/Matthew Healy Characters: George Daniel, Matthew Healy, Ross Macdonald, Adam Hann, Carly Holt, Jamie Oborne, Charli XCX (Musician) Additional Tags: Equestrian, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Past Drug Addiction Summary:
“Why the hell is Matthew Healy riding Carly Hann’s horse?!” George exclaimed, flinging open the door to storm into Jamie’s office, taking care to make sure the door was shut again behind him. He was surprised Jamie was even out so early, sitting in front of the computer with his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. “He’s bad fucking news, Matthew Healy?!” George said, shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his close cropped, bleached hair.
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totally-italy · 5 months
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Wherefore dost motivation hold deep hatred for me?
As the heading probably implies, I am currently lacking a lot of motivation, which is truly sub-optimal because I literally have my Italian GCSEs this week and I literally have not revised. Moreover, my End of Years are fast approaching and I have my French GCSEs in three week's time. Help.
Consequentially, even though my history teacher still refuses to believe that it is a word, I have decided to turn this into one of those posts where my dopamine literally just relies on the number of notes that I recieve. As promised, @the-red-planet-mars, the floor is yours you have been tagged.
Rules:
Please don't spam the comment section.
You can tag a maximum of 5 people.
Please don't spam reblog.
10 notes: I will actually plan my English homework so that I can then do it without having to ask for an extension. It is due on the day on which I have two of my Italian papers.
15 notes: I will update my 'Aeneid' notes so that my virtual document is up to date with the translations that we have done in class. I should technically also revise the themes and how Juno is portrayed, but we don't talk about that right now.
20 notes: If I haven't done this yet, I will create both a Spanish Quizlet with all the vocabulary I need to learn and I will create a Latin one for all the vocabulary from 'The Aeneid' that I need to know.
25 notes: I will plan, in English, different things that I could say for the picture for my French IGCSE oral. Also, this is a picture I will be using for my Spanish End of Years, so that is doubly helpful.
30 notes: I will do an Italian listening paper though I will listen to it at a faster speed than what is asked because otherwise I will literally get so bored and lose all will to live.
45 notes: I will finish researching Virgil and the historical context.
60 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 10 minutes each day for each language.
75 notes: I really need to do this. I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in Italian.
100 notes: I will do an Italian Writing practice paper. This is going to cause me so much suffering. Help me.
120 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my French IGCSE oral.
130 notes: I will make physics notes on energy.
140 notes: I will make notes on quantitative chemistry.
150 notes: I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in French.
155 notes: I will watch the AQA videos on the Cold War and make notes on them.
170 notes: I will do a practice Spanish listening paper.
200 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 30 minutes each day for each language, including a written vocabulary test.
230 notes: I will do a practice Spanish reading and writing paper.
250 notes: I will do a practice Latin translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.
270 notes: I will do a practice Greek translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.
300 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Crime and Punishment.
350 notes: I finish my Biology notes on reproduction.
380 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Religion and Life.
430 notes: I will look through my history notes on Germany and finish them in accordance to the AQA book.
520 notes: I will do a practice Greek language paper.
530 notes: I will do a practice Latin language paper.
605 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my Spanish End of Year oral.
720 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Buddhism.
850 notes: I will make full notes on the Cold War.
Honestly, if you have even bothered to read through all of these, you have absolutely earned more respect that I thought I was capable of giving to a single human being. I technically have a lot more things I should do, including re-reading Things Fall Apart and actually making complete maths notes, as well as notes for the sciences, but I doubt I will never get this many tags anyway.
Edit: It has been five minutes and I already got 14 notes. I am actually terrified of this site. What in Tartarus? Y'all are crazy and I love you so much.
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zhongrin · 6 months
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@rowavolo ! @lychniis ! @faesther ! @xianyoon ! @vennnnn-diagram ! @abyssmal-skies ! @baizhusangel ! @silentmoths ! @cerberuscaeli ! @dustofthedailylife ! @silkjade ! @soleillunne ! @average-yandere-enjoyer ! @navxry ! @the-travelling-witch ! @2broschlininahotub ! @mochinon-yah ! @queen-belial
🎤 someone has something to say about you... »»
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― 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜ˎˊ˗
multibloggers, use the blog names i tag you in, ok? ᰔᩚ
landscape view for best results! if it looks scuffed on your phone's web browser, it might be best to view from pc...
tumblr username data will only be stored locally on your devices.
if the ui glitches somehow, try refreshing the page.
feel free to link to this page for your selfship blogs, if any! to auto-select, just copy the url and add ?tumblrUsername={{yourtumblrusername}} at the end of the link. e.g. ?tumblrUsername=zhongrin
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‧₊˚❀༉ ー coded by yours truly ᡣ𐭩. resources (c) hoyoverse and downloaded from honeyhunterworld. dividers by @cafekitsune ー ‧₊˚.
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osaemu · 10 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance
contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !
author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎
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satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.
that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.
gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!
gojoslittleslut: notice me pls
"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"
you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.
gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~
satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.
suguru-geto: he has a gf ...
gojoslittleslut: yeah
gojoslittleslut: me
you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend. 
satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.
eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.
toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day
inumaki: we know gtfo
gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?
toji-fushiguro: bet
"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments. 
satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).
your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"
satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.
he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.
satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"
"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.
"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."
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nickfowlerrr · 22 days
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https://www.tumblr.com/nickfowlerrr/760258643802406912 BEEFY BUCKY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE *gasping breath in* PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
change of pace
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pairing: beefy!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. smut. unprotected sex. a little bit of fluff. not edited!
words: 1.1k
notes: ask and ye shall receive 😌 lol when i reblogged that post you know he was all i was thinking about 🥴 lol thank you for sending this, e! 🫶🏻
thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and so appreciated. hope you enjoy this little drabble! 🩵
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“Oh, fuck,” he whines, his eyes squeezed shut while he’s breathing heavy, his hands clenching the back of the couch threatening to break the wooden frame of it. Bucky’s head is thrown back in pleasure as you slowly sink down on his throbbing cock.
He can’t see the way your lips part at the stretch of him, or how you stifle your own moan as you take him in, or the twinkle in your eyes at the sight of him already flushed and lost in the feeling of you straddling his lap, your hands on his chest as you sit on his cock.
His fingers flex as he grips the couch, doing his best to control himself and let you set the pace. Your hands glide up his chest to around his neck as you lift yourself off his lap, until just his tip is inside you, your fingers in his hair as he gulps a breath. You stay for a moment and wait until you see him relax for just a second before you sit back down, his thickness impaling you in the best way.
He whimpers the most beautiful moans you think you’ve ever heard as his eyes scrunch tighter, his lips in a pout as you slowly start to really ride his cock.
“Baby, please,” he begs softly, cheeks pink as he turns his face away from you. His eyes are still closed tight, he’s both too shy and too worked up to look at you right now.
“What’s the matter?” you ask breathily, your torturous movements not faltering as you lean closer to him, your breasts pressing against his chest and your fingers curling in his hair as your soft lips ghost his ear before you lightly kiss his face, another pathetic moan slipping from the beefy man beneath you at the gentle kiss.
His bright blue eyes flutter open then as he turns his face toward you, pout still in place, his eyes much darker than they were a few minutes ago, but that gleam in them ever present.
You titter as your noses brush and you know exactly what he wants before he even says it.
You’re sinking lower on his dick as he finally speaks.
“Kiss me,” he pleads, not even trying to hide how desperately he wants to feel your lips on his. You don’t keep him waiting too long before you give in to his request. Your kiss is soft at first as you keep rolling your hips, the feeling of his tongue slipping into your mouth and his moans against your lips fueling your movements.
Slowly, Bucky lets his arms fall from their place along the back of the couch before he drags his hands up your thick thighs. You don’t stop him so he keeps going.
His heavy palms finding your ass, squeezing the ample flesh there as he follows your movements up and down his fat cock.
His touch dances up to your back and then his hands find their place settling on the curve of your waist meeting your hips. All the while, Bucky kisses you greedily while you let him, your own moans muffled by his mouth.
He squeezes your waist lightly and you don’t know what snaps or takes over you but suddenly you’re spurred on in your movements. It’s not slow rolls if your hips anymore, no. Now you’re bouncing up and down his thick cock as he chokes out a moan in surprise. His big hands are gripping you tight but he doesn’t dare deter you or want you to slow down. He just needs to feel you, needs to touch you and your soft fucking body that he won’t ever get enough of. The way you take him, the way you make him feel, it’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. You’re indescribable. You’re incomparable. You’re fucking everything.
He doesn’t know how or why he’s suddenly so overcome with emotion but he feels his eyes sting as he watches you, mesmerized by you on top of him, your breasts bouncing with every raise of your hips, your mouth open as you breathe heavily, soft moans of pleasure spilling out of you.
It feels so good. Everything feels so good, he can’t stop himself. He cries meekly, the most pathetic noise leaving him as his balls squeeze tighter and tighter with your every bounce. His hands tight on your hips and he whimpers again, “Baby, fuck, ohhh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grits, puffing as he tries to hold himself back. You speed up your movements, feeling your walls squeeze even tighter around his thick length as you get closer too.
Bucky slips his hands from your waist to your heavy breasts, grabbing them and squeezing them in his big hands before he lets his lips and tongue slide all over them, kissing them, licking them, before he wraps his lips around one of your pert nipples, sucking and licking the sensitive bud as you whine and moan in the intense pleasure it sends through you. He’s moaning as he takes his pleasure in kind, showing the same dedication to your other breast as you move atop him.
He’s so close. So fucking close. He buries his face in your chest as he holds you close, whimpers and pleas spilling from him as you fuck him perfectly.
“Please let me cum, baby, please,” he grips your hips again. Eyes squeezed shut, he’s almost pained from how badly he wants to just let go. To fill you up and keep you leaking him for the rest of the day. His balls twitch at the thought and he cries out again.
You reach a hand down behind you and gently squeeze him and he almost doesn’t even hear your permission to cum inside you as he shoots his load despite himself the very second he felt your touch. Groans and debauched whimpers leaving him as he holds you down on his lap, finally letting himself move as he bucks up into you.
You have to hold onto him as he fucks into you. Your own moans and whimpers mingling with his as he brings you to your own orgasm without even really trying, your silky walls tightening around his cock and milking him as he rides out your shared high.
His head is on your chest as he keeps you in place on his thick lap, heavy breaths and sighs leaving you both as you hold his head to you, your fingers playing in his hair.
“I love you,” he breathes against you, his eyes closed in bliss as you pet him. You smile down at him, and he doesn’t see it, but he feels it when you place a kiss on head and hold him closer. His arms tighten around you before he carefully turns you both so you’re laying down on the couch now, him on top of you, head still on your chest as you murmur back with that same soft smile,
“I love you, too.”
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theetherealbloom · 3 months
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I LOVE YOU, I'M SORRY
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Summary: Your soulmate’s birthday is written on your arm, and it just happened to be the day the world ended.
Paring: Jackson!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Soulmate AU, Apocalypse, ANGST, Fluff, Infected, Violence, Scratching, Age-Gap (the reader is in her 20s) Romance, Unrequited, Longing, Yearning, Secrets, Injury, Blood, Jealousy, Secret Glances, Metaphors, Character Death/s, Raiders, Ambush, Hospital, Stress, Hurt-To-Comfort, 
Word Count: 7k
A/N: I 1000% came up with this one night while scrolling through prompts and AUs I could do for Joel. I saw the Soulmate AU and I was like “oh, yeah,” *evil laugh* and then I heard the snippet for I love you, I’m Sorry and I was like, “yep, perfect, time to go through pain :D” 
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: i love you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams
| Main Masterlist |
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September 26, 1967.
The date emblazoned on your wrist felt like a cruel joke, a bitter reminder of a world that had crumbled around you. The small pulse of the glow on your wrist thrummed, a haunting echo of the past. September 26 was outbreak day. The day the end of the world had come crashing down, leaving chaos and devastation in its wake. The inked numbers throbbed on your skin, a constant reminder that your soulmate was out there, somewhere in this apocalyptic wasteland.
You traced the numbers on your wrist, the ink seeming darker today, wondering if you’d ever meet the person who was meant for you. What kind of person could they be? Were they strong, gentle, kind, or hardened by the harsh world?
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Hiding the mark from Joel for almost a decade took more than just care; it took an absolute miracle. You met Joel, Tess, and Tommy on your way to the Boston QZ. When you saw Joel’s wrist and the date there, you almost stopped breathing. Your birthdate on his skin was an unexpected blow. The ink on your wrist seemed to burn, yearning to connect with Joel. But his mark didn’t seem to react the same way.
When Joel and Tess started sleeping together, the walls between your apartments were paper-thin which seemed to amplify every intimate sound. You often found yourself wandering the hallways late at night, evading FEDRA officers, sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the empty night sky, stars twinkling, the moon bright. You wished for something good in a world gone bad.
You always wore long sleeves, even in unbearable heat. If you wore a short-sleeved shirt, you never took off your jacket, always coming up with some insane excuse about how cozy it was. It had become second nature, a routine you hardly thought about anymore.
As you kept your head down and worked, the grime and sweat accumulates on your skin. In exchange for your labor, you were given ration cards to obtain basic necessities.
"If it's so hot, why don't you just take off the damn jacket?" Joel gruffly asks, his irritation evident in his tone.
You stay silent and shrug, avoiding eye contact as you try to walk away to the next station, hoping to distance yourself from him. But he grabs your wrist, causing you to yank it away in surprise. "Joel, what the hell?"
Joel's tone is sharp and accusatory, causing you to instinctively flinch. "You're being awfully quiet," he scoffs.
You meet his eyes, trying to hide the turmoil inside. "What?"
"Something's off with you. What aren't you telling me?" Joel steps closer, invading your personal space, and you instinctively take a step back.
Panic sets in as you desperately search for a way out. You can't tell him the truth, so you grit your teeth and force out a lie. "I'm just tired."
"You're lying." Joel's words cut through you like a knife, making your heart race and palms sweat. The intensity of his gaze makes it clear that he won't let this go easily.
You try to remain composed, forcing a small smile. "I'm just tired from working all day."
Joel narrows his eyes, clearly not buying your excuse. "Bullshit," he says bluntly.
You bite your lip, feeling the weight of the lie in the pit of your stomach. "I promise, it's nothing."
Joel takes a step closer, making you back up against the wall. Your heart races as you feel trapped under his intense stare. "I know when something's bothering you," he says softly, his tone filled with concern.
You look down at your feet, unable to meet his gaze any longer. You've been hiding this secret for so long that the thought of telling anyone, especially Joel, terrifies you.
"Please," Joel pleads, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. "Just talk to me."
"I have to go," you urgently declare, heart pounding as you turn and bolt away, ignoring Joel's desperate calls for you to stop.
Your heart races as you run through the dark, narrow alleys, trying to put as much distance between you and Joel as possible. The fear and adrenaline pumping through your veins drive you forward, but at the same time, your mind is racing with thoughts of guilt for leaving Joel behind.
"Why did I have to lie?" you think to yourself. "Why couldn't I just tell him the truth?"
But deep down, you know why. You know that if you were to tell anyone about the secret burdening you, it could cost both of your lives. And as much as it pains you to not tell Joel, there is no other choice.
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The memories hit you like a tidal wave, pulling you back to that moment in time. But this time, it feels like you're watching from a distance, like a bystander in your own body.
"You can convince them. You always do." The words echo through your mind as Tess begs you and Joel for help. Tears stream down her face as she pleads, "You have to get her there. Keep her safe. Make things right." Joel shakes his head stubbornly, but Tess doesn't give up. "Please, Joel. Please say yes."
Everything feels surreal as you remember the infected pounding at the door, their screams like a constant reminder of what's at stake. And then Tess is gone, sacrificing herself with the rest of the infected to save the others.
Tess, your friend died that day.
But then everything shifts and you're in a different place, a house belonging to Bill and Frank. Ellie is reading a letter aloud, and you and Joel are there listening. "I used to hate the world," Ellie says, "but I was wrong. When I met my soulmate, there was one person worth saving. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…”
You remember Joel storming out of the house with the letter, his grief and pain palpable in every movement he makes. It's a bitter taste in both of your mouths, but it's also a reminder of why you keep fighting – because there are people worth protecting and worth saving.
Joel may not even realize it, but you've been waiting for him your entire life. And the same goes for Joel.
The scene changes once more; the deafening sound of gunshots pierces your ears and suddenly you're back in the hospital. You're behind Joel, gripping a rifle tightly as you navigate through the chaos and bodies scattered throughout the halls. 
Suddenly, you startle awake. Your heart races in your chest, and sweat trickles down your skin as you struggle to catch your breath.
You’re not out there. You’re in Jackson. You’re safe.
You briefly close your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of fear and loss from the dream. It had been two years since that fateful day in the hospital, and you were now living in Jackson with Joel and Ellie.
You gasped for breath and clutched your chest, trying to steady yourself with one hand on the softness of the sheets. You clambered out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, washing your hands and then your face. The cool water felt refreshing against your skin as you wiped it with a towel, trying to calm your nerves.
Taking a good look at yourself in the mirror, you saw the exhaustion written all over your face. The restlessness was evident in the dark circles under your eyes, and your hair was in a state of disarray.
"I look like I've been through hell," you muttered to yourself, sighing heavily.
You decided to take a shower, hoping it would help numb the pain. As the water cascaded over you, you let yourself sink into your thoughts, not really focusing on anything except the sound of water hitting your skin. Your bleary vision noticed the small cracks in the tiles on the wall.
Once you dried off and got dressed for the day, you headed downstairs to your small kitchen. The space had seen better days—cabinet doors hung slightly askew, and the pantry door refused to close all the way no matter how hard you tried.
You sighed, pushing the pantry door shut one more time before giving up and grabbing a mug from the chipped shelf. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, the bitter aroma filling the air as you took a tentative sip, savoring the warmth.
Later that morning, you stepped out of your little house in Jackson, pausing to take in the crisp air. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the town. You noticed the creaky and loose steps of your porch under your feet, each step emitting a groan of protest. The railings wobbled as you gripped them for balance, making a mental note to add them to your growing list of things that needed fixing.
It was just about daybreak, the sun slowly peeking over the horizon, casting a golden glow. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans, the cozy sweater you wore providing some comfort as you made your way to the stables.
You were part of the barn support staff on rotation and consistently helped out in the greenhouse. Sometimes, you were out on patrol, but today was a barn day.
As you cleaned the barn and took care of the horses, you unconsciously rolled up your sleeves, figuring no one else would be up this early. You were alone in the stables, or so you thought.
Lifting a hand to wipe the sweat from your brow, you sighed. Suddenly, you heard the sound of something dropping and a familiar voice exclaiming, "Holy shit!"
You whipped your head around to the source of the sound and saw Ellie standing there, her eyes wide as she stared directly at your wrist.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, hastily pulling your sleeve down.
Ellie took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. "Is that... a soulmate mark?"
You avoided her gaze, feeling exposed. "It's nothing, Ellie. Just... don't worry about it."
"Nothing?!" She looked incredulous. "You’ve been hiding it all this time. Why didn't you tell me?"
You sighed, the weight of your secret feeling heavier than ever. "It's complicated, Ellie. Joel... Joel doesn't know."
Ellie’s eyes widened even more. "Joel? As in... Joel?"
You nodded, unable to find the right words. The truth was out now, and there was no going back.
Ellie moved into your space, her curiosity getting the better of her. Without warning, she grabbed your wrist, yanking it towards her. Her eyes zeroed in on the birthdate etched into your skin, her face a mix of shock and realization.
"September 26, 1967," she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze snapped up to meet yours, eyes wide. "That's Joel's birthday."
You tried to pull your wrist back, but Ellie held on tight, her grip firm and unyielding. "Ellie, please," you started, your voice shaky.
"Dude," she cut you off, her tone urgent and insistent. "You need to fucking tell him."
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "Ellie, it's not that simple," you began, but she shook her head, not letting you finish.
"Not that simple?" she repeated, incredulous. "You've got his birthday on your wrist. You're soulmates! How much more complicated can it be?"
Your shoulders slumped as you finally managed to free your wrist from her grip. You rubbed the tender skin, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "You don't understand," you said softly. "Joel... he's been through so much. And so have I. Telling him now, after all these years... it might just make things worse."
Ellie's expression softened, but she didn't back down. "You think keeping it a secret is any better? He deserves to know. You both do."
You turned away, unable to meet her eyes. "Joel... he's moved on, he doesn’t want anything to do with relationships, and I don’t want to disrupt that."
Ellie snorted, crossing her arms. "Moved on? Joel’s not exactly the moving on type. He carries everything with him, all the time. You think he doesn't feel something for you?"
You glanced back at her, tears welling up in your eyes. "And what if he doesn't? What if he sees this and... and it means nothing to him?"
Ellie sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. "You'll never know if you don't try. And trust me, he’s stronger than you think. You both are."
Her words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, you just stood there, lost in thought. Finally, you nodded, a small, tentative movement. "I'll think about it," you whispered.
Ellie squeezed your shoulder gently before letting go. "Good. Because secrets have a way of coming out, one way or another. And it's better if it comes from you."
As she turned to leave, you stared down at the date on your wrist, the ink seeming to pulse with a life of its own. 
Maybe Ellie was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding.
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You sat alone on the bench in the food hall, picking at your meal and lost in your thoughts when a familiar drawl pulled you back to reality.
"Hey, darlin’."
The sound of Joel’s voice made your heart skip a beat, and a sudden warmth spread through your body. You nearly choked on your food, glancing up to see him settling next to you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Hi, Joel,” you sputtered, trying to regain your composure.
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Mind if I join you?”
You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No, not at all.”
He leaned back, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “How’s your day been?”
You shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Busy, as always. Barn duties and all that.”
Joel nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. “Yeah, I hear you’ve been workin’ hard. Always see you runnin’ around, takin’ care of things.”
A soft blush crept up your cheeks under his scrutiny. “Just trying to keep busy, you know? What about you?”
“Same old,” he replied, his voice low and soothing. “Patrols, repairs, keepin’ an eye on Ellie. She’s a handful.”
You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “She definitely keeps us on our toes.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he watched you, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The bustling noise of the food hall became a distant hum, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.
“You look tired,” he said gently, concern evident in his voice. “Everything alright?”
You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. “Just… a lot on my mind lately.”
Joel reached out, his hand resting lightly on your arm. The touch was brief but sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes searched yours, concern evident. “You sure you’re alright?”
Your breath hitched at the back of your throat, but you forced a smile. “Mmm... yeah. Just going through a to-do list in my mind right now.”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze never leaving your face. “Anythin’ that needs fixin’, darlin’?”
You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just a few kitchen cabinets... the hinges squeak, and the pantry door doesn’t close all the way. Also a couple of loose steps and a wobbly railing too.
He nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “Well, why don’t I take a look? Might be an easy fix.”
Your heart fluttered at the offer, a mix of gratitude and the thrill of being near him. “You don’t have to, Joel. I know you’re busy.”
Joel chuckled softly, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he let go. “I’ve always got time for you. Besides, can’t have you fightin’ with those cabinets every day.”
You laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Alright, if you insist.”
Joel’s eyes twinkled with a warm light. “I’ll swing by tomorrow mornin’, if that’s alright with you.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with him. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’d appreciate the help.”
He gave a slow, easy smile that made your stomach flutter. “Great. I’ll bring my tools and we’ll get this place sorted.”
The way he said “we” filled you with a sense of comfort and belonging. “Thanks, Joel. It really means a lot.”
Joel stepped closer, his hand brushing against your arm in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Anytime, darlin’. You know I’m here for you.”
You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I know.”
His gaze held yours for a moment longer, the air thick with unspoken words and the electric tension between you. Finally, he took a step back, breaking the spell.
“I should get goin’,” he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual. “Gotta talk to Tommy ‘bout somethin’.”
“Right, of course,” you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment but also a thrill of anticipation for tomorrow.
Joel lingered by the table, a hand on your shoulder. “Take care, okay?”
“You too, Joel,” you said softly.
He nodded and turned to leave, but not before giving you one last, lingering look. You watched him walk away, your heart pounding and your mind racing with thoughts of what tomorrow might bring.
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The next morning, you were up at dawn, nerves and excitement thrumming through you as you tidied up the kitchen. Each movement was deliberate, an attempt to keep your mind occupied. But no matter how much you tried to focus, you couldn’t help but glance at the clock every few minutes, your heart racing each time the hands inched closer to Joel’s promised arrival.
As you finished your second cup of coffee, the knock on the door startled you, sending a jolt through your already frazzled nerves. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and opened the door to find Joel standing there, a toolbox in one hand and a warm, familiar smile on his face.
“Good mornin’,” he greeted, stepping inside, his presence filling the room.
“Morning, Joel,” you replied, the rush of warmth at seeing him making your voice tremble slightly.
He set the toolbox down and looked around the kitchen with a critical eye. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealin’ with here.”
As Joel began inspecting the cabinets and pantry door, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. Every subtle flex of his muscles under his shirt drew your attention, and you found it hard to look away.
“Found the problem,�� he said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Just needs a little tightening and some oil.”
You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the magnetic pull of his proximity. “I’m glad it’s an easy fix.”
Joel smiled, his eyes locking with yours, sending a spark of electricity through you. “Told you it wouldn’t be a problem.”
As he worked, you found yourself drawn to him, moving closer under the pretense of handing him tools or holding a flashlight. Each accidental brush of your hands sent a jolt through you, the air between you charged with unspoken desire. You felt your pulse quicken every time his fingers grazed yours.
“There,” Joel said finally, standing up and testing the now-silent hinges. “Good as new.”
You smiled, genuinely grateful and a little breathless from being so close to him. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”
He chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag. “Just doin’ what I can.”
You both stood there for a moment, the kitchen suddenly feeling too small and too big all at once. The silence between you was heavy with everything you weren’t saying, a tension that seemed to thicken the air.
“Joel,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I really appreciate this. More than you know.”
He looked at you, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache. “I’m glad I could help. And I meant what I said yesterday—you don’t have to do everything alone.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you took a tentative step closer, the distance between you feeling like an unbearable chasm. “It’s hard to ask for help sometimes. But knowing you’re here... it makes a difference.”
Joel reached out, his fingers lightly grazing your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll always be here for you. Don’t ever doubt that.”
The intensity in his eyes made your breath catch. You felt drawn to him, the unspoken connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment. Without thinking, you closed the remaining distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest. 
His breath hitched as you moved closer, the air between you charged with a heady mix of anticipation and yearning. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between holding back and giving in. The warmth of his body so close to yours was intoxicating, and you felt your resolve weakening with each passing second.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with all the longing you’d kept hidden for so long.
He swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours. “I—”
Just as the air between you thickened with unspoken words, a sudden, sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment. You both turned to see a young woman standing there, her eyes lighting up when she saw Joel.
“Hey, Joel!” she called out, her tone annoyingly bright. “I heard you were here and thought I’d bring over some coffee. Figured you could use a break.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. “Uh, thanks, Vanessa,” he replied, his voice strained. “But we’re kinda in the middle of something.”
Vanessa’s eyes flicked to you, her gaze turning cold. “Oh, I see. Well, maybe I could help?”
Before you could step away, Joel’s arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close. The unexpected gesture sent a shiver through you, and you looked up at him, your heart pounding.
“We’re busy, Vanessa,” Joel said firmly, his hand resting possessively on your hip. “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got it covered.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in obvious jealousy. “Right. Well, if you change your mind...” She trailed off, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of disdain and envy before she finally turned and walked away.
As soon as she was out of earshot, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Joel’s grip on your waist loosened, but he didn’t let go. His eyes met yours, the intensity in them making your pulse race.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured, his voice low. “Didn’t mean to make things awkward.”
You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay. I appreciate the backup.”
Joel chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against your side in a way that sent tingles down your spine. “Guess we should get back to work, huh?”
You nodded, reluctantly stepping back, though his touch lingered in your mind. “Yeah, the step and railing on the porch still need fixing.”
Together, you moved outside, the tension from earlier still simmering between you. As Joel inspected the loose step, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. The way his hands moved with such confidence and skill, the way his brow furrowed in concentration—it all captivated you.
“Can you hold this steady for me?” he asked, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.
You nodded, stepping closer to help. Your hands brushed against his as you held the wood in place, and the contact sent a jolt through you. The proximity, the shared task, the quiet intimacy of the moment—it all felt like a dance, each movement charged with unspoken feelings.
“Almost got it,” Joel murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it took all your willpower not to lean into him.
Finally, he tightened the last screw and tested the step, making sure it was secure. “There. That should do it.”
You smiled, genuinely grateful and more than a little breathless. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”
He looked at you, his eyes softening. “Just doin’ what I can.”
As you both stood there on the porch, the morning sun casting a golden glow around you, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. Everything you wanted to say but didn't wash over you in the awkward stillness, and the feelings you shared were nearly visible.
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The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the landscape as you and your patrol partner, Mark, scouted the perimeter. He was easy-going, always ready with a joke or a reassuring word. You found his presence comforting, a steady rock amidst the chaos.
“Think we’ll find anything today?” you asked, keeping your voice low.
Mark grinned, his eyes scanning the horizon. “Nah, it’s been quiet for a while now. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Just as the words left his mouth, a shot rang out. The next few moments were a blur of chaos and violence. Raiders, hidden in the underbrush, launched their attack. Mark managed to shoot one off you, his quick reflexes saving your life. But then, he was hit, and you watched in horror as he crumpled to the ground.
“Mark!” you screamed, dropping to your knees beside him. Blood poured from a wound in his chest, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. You pressed your hands against the wound, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood. “Stay with me, Mark. Please, stay with me.”
But his eyes glazed over, the light fading. You choked back a sob, fury and grief surging through you as the raiders closed in. You fought with every ounce of strength you had, slashing and stabbing, your vision blurred by tears and the pouring rain that had begun to fall. Blood and dirt smeared your face, and pain lanced through your body from multiple wounds.
The storm roared with fury, whipping the trees and lashing the ground with torrents of rain. You stumbled through the churning chaos, your clothes drenched and clinging to your skin, your muscles burning from the effort of pushing forward. Your vision blurred by the onslaught, you fought to keep moving, each step a battle against the ferocious elements. In that moment, all that mattered was survival - staying alive until the tempest passed.
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It had been hours since Joel last saw them. His graying hair was in danger of being pulled out in frustration. You and Mark were supposed to be back by now. The patrol route you both took was supposed to be a shorter one.
Joel paced back and forth in the settlement, struggling to contain his anger. “Why the hell can’t I go out there, Tommy? She’s my partner, my—” He cut himself off, frustration and fear etched into his features.
Tommy placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice firm. “You’re too close to this, Joel. You need to stay here. I’ll find her.”
Hours dragged by, each minute an eternity. Joel’s rage simmered, his helplessness gnawing at him. He punched the wall, his knuckles splitting, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear of losing you.
Tommy had taken a small team out to search for you and Mark, but there was still no word. The storm raged on, making it even harder to find any trace of you.
Joel’s mind raced with possibilities – had you and Mark been ambushed? Taken by the raiders? Injured and unable to make it back? His heart clenched at the thought of you hurt or worse.
He cursed himself for not going out with you both, for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. He knew better than anyone that in this world, you couldn’t afford to let your guard down. But he had let himself become complacent, too focused on protecting you rather than seeing things clearly.
Bile rises in Joel's throat, the taste of fear and worry leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He swallows hard, trying to push the feeling down as he anxiously waits for any news.
The bitter taste of regret and fear lingered on Joel’s tongue, each thought of what could happen to you making his stomach turn.
The metallic taste of blood was thick on Joel's tongue as he bit down on his lip, trying to hold back his emotions. The rancid taste of fear and worry lingered in his mouth, coating his throat and making it hard to swallow.
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Meanwhile, Tommy pushed through the storm, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness. The wind howled around him, carrying with it the distant echoes of thunder. He called out your name, his voice barely audible above the roar of the tempest. His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination, each step sinking into the mud as he trudged forward.
The rain came down in sheets, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Lightning flashed, illuminating the twisted branches and slick ground for brief moments. He stumbled over fallen logs and through thick underbrush, the storm making every movement a struggle.
Tommy's eyes darted around, searching desperately. He felt a gnawing dread in the pit of his stomach, a fear that he was too late. Then, in the distance, he saw a figure lying still. His breath caught in his throat as he hurried over, praying that it wasn't you.
As he got closer, he recognized the bodies of the raiders, their lifeless forms sprawled across the muddy ground. The sight was gruesome, the aftermath of a brutal fight. His heart sank when he saw Mark, his friend and comrade, lying motionless with a fatal wound. He forced himself to look away, his focus now solely on finding you.
Finally, his eyes landed on you, crumpled and barely breathing. His heart pounded in his chest as he knelt beside you. Blood soaked your clothes, mingling with the dirt and rain, creating a grim tapestry that told the story of your fierce struggle.
“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice trembling with urgency and concern. He gently lifted your head, cradling you in his arms. You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed, pain-filled eyes.
“Joel?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm. The confusion and pain in your gaze made Tommy’s heart clench.
Tommy’s eyes widened as he saw the mark on your wrist, illuminated by a flash of lightning. It was the same date he had seen on Joel’s wrist—the same mark. Realization hit him like a freight train, the pieces falling into place with a sudden clarity. “It’s Tommy,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you. Just hold on.”
But you had already slipped back into unconsciousness, your body limp in his arms. Tommy’s heart raced as he gently but urgently lifted you, securing you on his horse. He mounted behind you, holding you close to keep you steady, and spurred the horse into a gallop.
The ride back was a blur of rain and darkness, each second stretching into an eternity. The storm seemed to rage even harder, the wind whipping through the trees and the rain stinging like needles. Tommy’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, fear for your life mingling with the shocking revelation of your connection to Joel.
By the time Tommy reached the settlement, his clothes were soaked through, clinging to his skin like a second, frigid layer. Every muscle in his body ached from the grueling ride and the weight of your unconscious form. The rain had not let up, and his vision was blurred by the relentless downpour. But he didn't stop, carrying you swiftly yet carefully towards the infirmary, each step a struggle against exhaustion and worry.
Joel was just by the large gate of Jackson, pacing anxiously. The moment he saw Tommy approaching with your limp body, his heart seemed to stop. His face, already drawn with worry, twisted into an expression of sheer desperation.
“Is she okay?” Joel asked frantically, his voice cracking. His eyes were wide, darting between Tommy and your pale face for any sign of hope.
“She’s alive,” Tommy said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He handed you over to the medics who were rushing to meet them. Joel instinctively moved to follow, but Tommy grabbed his arm, his grip firm and unyielding.
“Joel, wait. Look at her wrist,” Tommy urged, his voice low but insistent.
Joel’s eyes followed Tommy's gaze, landing on the mark on your wrist. Recognition hit him like a punch to the gut, the date etched into your skin unmistakable. It was the same as his. Realization dawned with a mixture of awe and dread. “Fuck,” he breathed, the weight of it crashing over him. The one person he couldn’t afford to lose was you, and now he knew why.
The medics were quick, their movements efficient as they assessed your injuries and began to prepare you for treatment. They lifted you onto a stretcher, intent on rushing you inside where they could better tend to your wounds. Joel moved to follow, his protective instincts kicking in, but the medics tried to hold him back.
“Sir, you need to let us do our job,” one of them said, a young woman with a firm but gentle voice.
“No,” Joel growled, his eyes blazing with determination and fear. “I ain’t leavin’ her side.”
Tommy stepped in, trying to reason with him. “Joel, you gotta let the doctors work.”
Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, his whole body trembling with the effort to contain his emotions. “I can’t… I can’t lose her, Tommy,” he choked out, his voice raw with pain and anger.
“I know, but you stayin’ in there won’t help her. You’ll only be in the way,” Tommy said, his tone gentle but firm. He placed a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder, trying to ground him. “You’ve gotta trust them to do their job. Let them help her.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes locked on the door to the infirmary where they had taken you. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to be by your side, to make sure you were safe. But he knew Tommy was right. With a heavy, reluctant nod, he allowed himself to be led away, his heart aching with every step.
The minutes stretched into an eternity as they waited. Joel paced back and forth, his mind racing with worry. He could still see the image of you, broken and bloodied, every time he closed his eyes. The mark on your wrist haunted him, a constant reminder of the bond that tied you together. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn't bear to lose you.
Tommy stood by, watching his brother with a mixture of sympathy and concern. He knew how much you meant to Joel, and the revelation of the soulmate mark only intensified that bond. He wished there was something more he could do, some way to ease Joel’s pain.
Finally, a medic emerged from the infirmary, her expression tired but relieved. “She’s stable,” she announced, and Joel felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “She’s got a long road to recovery, but she’s a fighter.”
Joel nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He would stay by your side, no matter what. The bond you shared was too precious to ever let go.
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Days blurred into a haze of sterile white walls and the rhythmic beeping of machines. You drifted in and out of consciousness, each time greeted by the comforting sounds of Joel and Ellie. Joel's low, soothing voice often filled the room, whether he was talking to you or humming a soft tune. Ellie would sit by your bed, recounting stories with her usual animated flair, her voice a bright spot in the darkness.
One evening, as the storm outside mirrored the chaos within, you stirred slightly. The weight of Joel's hand on your wrist was a grounding force, his presence unwavering. He looked exhausted, his eyes heavy with worry, but he never left your side.
In one of your more lucid moments, you caught snippets of Joel's soft singing, the melody wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His voice was a balm, a tether to the world you were trying so hard to rejoin. He would often lean down to press gentle kisses to your forehead, his touch both a promise and a plea for you to come back to him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you awoke fully. Your throat was dry, and every muscle ached, but you were aware. The weight on your wrist brought your gaze to Joel. He was slumped in a chair beside your bed, his head resting on the edge, fast asleep. He looked worn out, dark circles under his eyes and a shadow of stubble on his jaw.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering open as if sensing your gaze.
“I...” Your voice came out as a croak, and you winced.
“Here, drink up,” Joel said, quickly pouring a glass of water and holding it to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.
After a few sips of water, you managed to find your voice again. “How long have I been out?” you asked, your throat feeling slightly raw from disuse.
“Almost a week,” Joel replied, his eyes never leaving yours.
“A week?” you repeated in shock. It felt like only a few hours had passed.
Joel nodded, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “You were pretty out of it for a while there.”
You felt a pang of guilt for causing so much worry and trouble for everyone. “I’m sorry,” you said softly.
“Don’t be sorry,” Joel said firmly, his eyes filled with intensity. “Just focus on getting better.”
“I will,” you promised, grateful for his unwavering support.
The relief on Joel’s face was palpable, but as he set the glass aside, a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. “Were you ever going to tell me?” His voice was quiet, but the intensity of his gaze was almost too much to bear.
You looked away, shame burning your cheeks. “Trust me, I know. It's always about me.”
Joel's jaw clenched. “I just… I didn’t think you could ever want me.” Your voice broke, the years of hiding and pretending catching up to you.
Joel’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek. “You’ve always been more than I deserve,” he murmured. “I just wish you’d told me.”
Tears filled your eyes, and you struggled to breathe. “I love you…” you choked out, the words finally escaping your lips after years of being held back. “I’m sorry.”
Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you sobbed. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
In the midst of life's storms, a quiet calm settled around you both, like discovering an oasis in the desert. Amidst chaos and pain, you found your soulmate, and love emerged as the unwavering light guiding you through the darkest nights.
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mclqren · 5 months
Text
UNFORGETTABLE ★ CL16
PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!gymnast!reader
SUMMARY ✦ after attending one f1 race, you simultaneously manage to embarrass yourself in front of and impress a certain f1 driver [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ for the purpose of this fic, the reader is going to represent america in the olympics for gymnastics. i made the reader have a private insta account for this fic & a main, just to fit in with the 'private life' aspect. the fc i've used is isabela juliana, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by yourbsf, simonebiles, and 237,901 others
yourusername flowers are the key to my heart 🔐💌
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user1 STUNNERRR!!
user2 if the whole gymnastics thing doesn't work out, you could literally have a career as a model because damnnn!!
user3 the flowersss 🥺🥺
user4 is she going to the olympics this year??
user5 yess!! can't wait to see her 💗💗
simonebiles my girl wowwww 😍😍
yourusername my lover fr 💓💓
yourbsf GORGEOUS
yourusername LOVE YOU!!
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liked by yourbsf, simonebiles, and 124 others
yourfinsta sushi night & trying to figure this f1 shit out before this weekend 🍣😱
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yourbsf SINCE WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO WATCH F1
yourfinsta HAVE I NOT TOLD YOU
yourbsf NOOO???
yourfinsta FERRARI INVITED ME AS A PADDOCK GUEST SO I GUESS IM GOING
yourbsf you better message me ALL ABOUT IT
yoursibling you're the luckiest bitch alive.
yourfinsta yeah except i know NOTHINGG about f1 pls drop by my apartment and teach me ☹️
yoursibling fine fine im on my way
yourusername
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( caption one: about to moveeee ✈️ | caption two: i apologize in advance for my limited formula one knowledge 😔 )
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liked by yourbsf, yoursibling, and 201 others
yourfinsta third slide is me after embarrassing myself in front of one of the most good-looking guys alive?? i swear i knew his name i just panicked when someone asked me 😭
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yourbsf HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW WHO CHARLES LECLERC WAS
yourfinsta YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND IT WAS SO EMBARRASSING ESP WHEN HE BROUGHT IT UP AGAIN LATER??
yourbsf he brought it up AGAINNN?? oh he likes you.
yourfinsta NO HE DOESNTT HE WAS PROBABLY JUST AS EMBARRASSED AS I WAS.
yoursibling the caption??
yourfinsta it's a long story. i'll tell you when i get home
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liked by charles_leclerc, simonebiles, and 301,121 others
yourusername i had such a good time w ferrari this weekend: thank you sm for having me!! (ps. yes i do know who both drivers are 🤣)
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user9 the caption 🤣🤣
user10 you have to praise the girl for owning her mistake!
user11 STUNNERRR
user12 so why isn't she training then...
user13 ppl are allowed to take breaks - leave her alone!
user14 the flowers are so on y/n's brand
user15 righttt!! she's so spring i can't explain it
scuderiaferrari it was lovely to have you with us, y/n!
yourusername thank you for having me! ❤️❤️
user16 okay but why couldn't they have chosen someone who knows about f1 instead of someone random girl off the street?? like at least pick someone who's WATCHED the sport, and knows the drivers names.
user17 tons of people who haven't watched the sport get invited all the time. she said when she was there that she didn't have too much knowledge on the sport, but wanted to learn more about it, hence why she accepted the invite. she said she forgot their names momentarily because she was panicked by the larger crowd, so maybe leave off her for a minute! 💓
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yourusername
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( caption one: back again 😴 | caption two: thanks for the gift 😉 )
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 292,102 others
yourusername another crazy weekend later...🏎️
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user22 she's so luckyyyy wth!
user23 TWO F1 RACES IN A ROW?? WOWWW SOMEONE'S POPULAR
user24 AND THE HAT? it's def charles asking for her
user25 the outfitttt wow 😍
user26 she's literally so pretty
user27 STAY AWAY FROM CHARLES
user28 girl what.
charles_leclerc the bag 😉
yourusername yes yes you bought it for me thanks babe 🤣💓
user29 A GIFT? 'BABE'? WHATTTT
user30 WOAH WHAT IS THIS
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourbsf, and 280,111 others
yourusername back to training at last 🤸‍♀️
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user31 back to your rootsss!!
user32 my fav gymnast
user33 WE'VE BEEN WAITINGGG i can't wait for the olympics
user34 SAME!!
user35 wowww she's stunning!
user36 is this charles' girlfriend then or-
user37 nope! nothing's been confirmed right now - they might just be good friends!
simonebiles YOU ARE EVERYTHINGGG!!
yourusername I LOVE YOU 💗
charles_leclerc i could do that 🤣
yourusername fighting talk from someone who drives around in a car all day!
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,894,012 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc turns out the key to heart is to actually just buy her flowers 🤷‍♀️❤️
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user42 MAMA Y PAPA
user43 UR SO REAL FOR THISSS
user44 DAMN Y/N IS BEING SPOILTTTT
user45 AS SHE SHOULD BEEE!!
user46 POWER COUPLE ALERTTT
user47 gymnast x f1 driver is NOT a trope i was expecting but i love it!!
yourusername the flowers are the only reason we're together.
charles_leclerc WHAT
yourusername wish i was kidding, i'm just a sucker for nice flowers 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
yourusername ALL JOKES ASIDE im so grateful 💗
landonorris barf 🤮
yourusername call me when you get a girlfriend x
user48 SHE'S FRIENDS W THE PADDOCK TOO??
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liked by charles_leclerc, simonebiles, and 381,229 others
tagged charles_leclerc
yourusername it's no longer acceptable to forget your name anymore ☹️💓
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user49 MY NEW FAV COUPLE ON THE GRID
user50 im OBSESSEDDD
user51 pls call me if he fumbles you ☹️
user52 NO REALLL im always here y/n ❤️❤️
user53 THE THIRD SLIDE PLEASEEEE
user54 love a woman who's obsessed w her man 🙏
simonebiles if he hurts you im always here (to date you)
yourusername my ACTUALLL wife 💍💍
charles_leclerc im so lucky ❤️
yourusername you mean you're lucky i liked the flowers.
charles_leclerc you're still on about this??
yourusername YOU THINK IM JOKING?? flowers are my life. i would die for flowers. it's the only reason we're together 🤣💗
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2K notes · View notes
1-800-kami · 1 year
Text
R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru
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gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
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IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)
content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)
author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.
this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
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“so… let me get this straight.”
“go ahead.”
shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”
“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”
“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 
“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”
“do you… do you share any classes with him?”
“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”
“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.
all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.
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it’s hard to forget about gojo.
not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…
...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.
the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.
“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”
speak of the devil.
there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.
you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 
“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”
what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.
you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.
pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-
“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”
“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”
your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.
“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”
“what did you just call me?!-”
“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”
“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.
“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”
“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 
“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 
the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.
he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.
when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”
he’s relentless. “why do you care?”
“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”
you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”
“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“
“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 
some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 
“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 
“i don’t need your money…”
“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 
“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”
that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”
“do you promise? like, actually?”
“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.
“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.
“i also want your number.”
you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.
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“what do you have me saved as?” 
the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.
you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.
“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“
“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”
“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“
“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”
“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.
“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 
he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.
“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“
the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.
from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 
gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.
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you push him away.
everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.
you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.
and that thought alone scares you.
still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 
the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.
“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”
“satoru-“
“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.
“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”
you take back everything you just said.
a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.
you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”
he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 
“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”
“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.
“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 
you try to ignore how that makes you feel.
and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 
you’re in love with gojo satoru.
and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 
and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.
you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.
the reason why you want to stick around too.
you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 
“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.
you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.
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it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.
you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.
it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.
shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.
the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.
it was your ex. 
your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 
if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 
you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.
out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.
“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 
“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.
“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”
you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.
“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”
your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”
“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”
“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.
you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.
you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.
the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.
“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”
you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”
“oh, don’t even get me started.”
he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”
“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”
he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”
“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.
the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 
you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”
“kento nanami.”
“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 
“i’m just doing my job.”
“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”
“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”
“y/n l/n.”
“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”
“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”
“did something happen?”
“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”
“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”
he gets to the cafe in five.
you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 
it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 
however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”
your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.
“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 
“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.
“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.
“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.
“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 
you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”
still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.
i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.
“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 
that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.
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the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?
“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”
“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 
“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”
“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”
“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”
you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“
“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 
“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”
“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.
“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”
he cuts you off. “you… what?”
you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.
those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.
“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.
this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.
“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.
you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”
gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.
a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.
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“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”
he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”
“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 
“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 
he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”
“i love you, y/n.”
“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 
he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.
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“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.
“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 
gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”
“hmph. alright.” 
“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”
“satoru!”
“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”
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this night is going amazing.
when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 
“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.
it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.
“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.
“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.
“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 
“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”
“oh? do tell.”
“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”
“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.
“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”
“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”
“hey, i wanted to know more!-”
“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”
“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 
suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”
“duh. it’s a classic.”
“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 
suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 
satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”
you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 
he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”
“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 
you wish you never did.
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you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.
on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.
fuck.
you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.
what bullshit that was.
your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.
so you do.
you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.
of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.
stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.
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when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?
he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.
he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.
they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”
“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.
“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”
he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 
“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”
geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.
“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.
gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.
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part 2 :)
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Text
Mad Season 5
Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker
Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)
Note: happy weekend.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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The scalloped collar of your cardigan sticks out like a sore thumb among the tube tops and spaghetti straps. You don’t know how anyone can stand to wear skirts that short with winter looming around the next corner. Even as the dorm is filled with the heat of bodies, an open window lets in a frigid gust that has you shivering. 
It might help if you detach yourself from the wall. That would mean wading into the bodies and god forbid, talking to strangers. You cross your arms and sway as you search the crowded kitchen. There’s more in the front room and the bedrooms. The place is filled to the brim with tipsy co-eds. 
You stand on your toes as you try to spot your host. You haven’t seen Peter since you got there. He disappeared to help with a spill and just never came back. You figured that’s how it would go. You’re boring and it is his party. He can’t just be hanging out with you all night. 
As the voices grow to a furor and your head begins to spin with the wall of bodies, your chest tightens. You sidle along the wall, ducking and dodging away from drunken guests, and find your way to the door. You let yourself into the hall as you shake up your puffer. 
You take a deep inhale and let it out slow. It’s already better. The music and buzz of chatter courses through the wall but it isn’t deafening. You’ll stay out there for a while then find Peter and tell him you’re too tired. 
You pull out your phone to distract yourself. You could try texting. No, he deserves a real goodbye. He invited your after all. 
The door opens again and a couple bursts out, leaving it open in their stead as they hit the wall not a foot away from you. They don’t notice you as they tangle each other up in a sloppy make out sessions. You make a face at them and quickly flit away. You have no other choice but to go back to the party. 
As you weave around the other guests, your mind detaches and wanders back to that dark night on campus. You didn’t really believe Bucky at first but then again, how well do you know Peter? It’s completely likely that he’s brought other girls around. But would it matter? 
Like you told Bucky, you’re just doing a project. 
You hit the wall suddenly as someone collides with you from the side. You let out and oomf and grip your phone tighter. You turn as a splash of cold liquid leaks down your sleeve. The drunken girl doesn’t even apologise as she laughs and follows her friend down to the kitchen. 
You shrink down even further. It’s overcrowded and too loud and too much. Not only that but you plainly don’t belong here. You live in an off-campus property with a shady landlord and questionable roommates; this place is a premium all-inclusive dorm. The type legacies and trust funders live in. 
You manage to squeeze past a group of boys in varsity jackets arguing loudly. You dip into Peter’s room and take a breath. It’s not as bad as the rest of the house but there’s some girls on the bed giggling and talking about things that make you want to blush. 
You search around. Not necessarily for an escape, you’re not desperate enough to hop out the window, but just for anywhere to hide and catch your breath. Literally. You switch your phone for your puffer and put it to your lips. 
You cross to the bathroom and knock. You turn your ear to it and listen for an answer. Nothing. You turn the handle and push inside. 
You stop short. Inside, Peter’s against the wall of the shower, pinned by MJ as she nibbles on his lower lip. You gasp in surprise and gape. Oh gosh. 
You stand dumbly in the door. Move, you idiot. Before you can flee, Peter’s eyes open and he sees you. He winces and grabs MJ’s shoulders, moving her away from him. 
“Hey,” he tries to move past her but she tugs him back. 
You back out, cheeks burning, and spin away without closing the door. It’s not like it’s any of your business, you shouldn’t care, but it’s awkward. You shouldn’t have seen that.  
It’s just like you suspected. You’re crashing Peter’s party. He didn’t actually want to invite you, he was just being nice. Like always. He’s always so nice and patient and you’re so pathetic. 
Maybe Bucky is right. Maybe you’re just another girl. Well, so what? You’re just friends. Just lab partners. You don’t care, do you? 
You barely avoid the elbow of one of the frats slurping on a red cup and another group of girls blindly force their way by without making room. You press against the wall as you try to get free of the bustling space.  
God, why did you even come? You knew this was a bad idea. This is the last time you do anything just to be polite. What good has that ever got you? 
You finally get to the door and stumble out into the hall. You catch yourself against the wall and look over at the couple still grossly sucking down each other’s tongues. You grimace and shake your puffer. You suck on it as you head down the hallway. 
“Hey, wait,” Peter calls your name as the door once more lets out the cacophony of voice, “look, what you saw--” 
“It’s fine, Peter,” you rasp, “really. Parties aren’t really my thing.” 
“No, it’s not fine. I don’t want you to think I just ditched you. It’s just MJ, she was all over me. Really, I was trying to get away--” 
“Peter,” you gulp, “we’re just friends,” you turn to face him and he nearly trips as he skids to a halt. “I don’t care.” 
You smile, or try to. You might be lying. You’re not really sure yourself. 
“You... don’t?” He frowns. 
You stare at him. “Well, should I?” You laugh nervously. 
He deflates and his brows furrow, “I mean... I do. I really care about you and... I was telling MJ and she just jumped on me. She has this thing for taken guys. Kinda why we didn’t work out. But uh, I guess I messed it all up. I invited you because I... well, yeah, I guess it doesn’t matter now.” His shoulders slump and his eyes glisten, “so, just go. I messed it all up. Not like you could ever like me back, right?” 
You stare at him. You open your mouth then shut it. Like him? Like really like him? If that’s what he means... do you? 
💜💜💜
From this point, there will be two paths; both Bucky and Peter will appear in both but each will favour one or the other as end goal. 
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ft-3racha · 7 months
Note
Hii
Can you do drunk texts with best friend stray kids where reader confesses and tells them the nsfw things they want skz to do to them. Take your time and thank you in advance
smau (pt. 1): stray kids reaction to…
scenario: …you telling them what you want them to do to you while being drunk
pairing: best friend!stray kids (hyung line) x reader
warnings: mature!!, explicit talk about sexual fantasies, mentions of alcohol consumption
author‘s note: thank you very much for this ask!! i really enjoyed preparing this smau for you guys, let me know what you think. the maknae line post can be found on my page. likes/reblogs/comments are very much appreciated! and as always: reqs are still open. have fun.<3
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bang chan<3
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lee know<3
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changbin<3
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hyunjin<3
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1K notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 6 months
Text
L.O.V.E | alex albon x fem! reader x lily muni he
summary; no matter how many times they try to send hints, y/n couldn’t understand alex and lily’s advanced until a certain pair of brits decided to help their friends out
fc; znefer_ on ig
warnings; cursing
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri
note; requested !
masterlist !
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liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, and others !
yourusername: in my pilates princess era 🩰🌷
username: here before alex and lily simp over y/n
username: their comments are the highlight of my day tbh
alex_albon: you’re the prettiest princess💗
yourusername: why thank u albono🫶🫶
username: girl….
lilymhe: wow😍😍😍😍😍
yourusername: lilssss💖💖
username: she probably just thinks lily is just simply complimenting her omg bless her 😭😭😭😭
username: ugh she’s gorgeous no wonder lily and alex r obsessed w her😩
username: pilates girlies>>>>
username: the headband + straight hair combo rlly eats
username: I LOVE U Y/N
carmenmmundt: take me to pilates w you next time!!
yourusername: lmk when you’re freeeee
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liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, and others
yourusername: g’morning 🤎
alex_albon: good morning, how’d u sleep pretty girl🥰
yourusername: amazing! thank u for asking alexxxx💗💗
username: he’s DOWN BAD LMAOO
lilymhe: bed must’ve been pretty cold, bet i know a few people who can warm it up😁
yourusername: surprisingly cats emit a lot of body heat!!😅😅
username: y/n not taking the hint, fork found in kitchen
username: the hair is HAIRING
username: im in tears alex and lily try soooo hard😭😭😭😭
username: isn’t it weird that they both like y/n?
username: who gaf as long as it makes them happy 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
username: the hair😍😍
username: she’s so pretty i rlly understand why alex n lily are so obsessed 😩
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liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, and others !
yourusername: i finally got the hint ??!!
tagged; alex_albon, lilymhe
lilymhe: hey pretty girl ur alllll ours now😁🤭
yourusername: alllll yours 💗 luv u
lilymhe: LUV U MY PRETTY GIRL😩😩💗💗💗💓🧡❤️💙🤎💕💕💖💖❤️❣️💜🩶
username: i think she broke lily
username: LMAOOO LILY😭😭😭
alex_albon: don’t know how many ‘you’re such a good friend!’ i could handle before going crazy, doesn’t matter now bc now we have you😌❤️❤️
yourusername: i would like to sincerely apologize for bein so slow😞😞 but at least u both have me :p ! 💓💓
username: finally she admits she was being slow i thought us talking abt their crushes in her comments was enough for her to get the hint 😭😭
username: OMG FINALLYYY
username: lily and alex’s patience fr worked
username: ugh they’re all so fine
username: it only took you months babe !!!
georgerussell63: uhm EXCUSE ME???
landonorris: ikr😒😒😒😒
yourusername: thank u guys for making me realize the truth😁
alex_albon: i can’t believe these dumbasses fr did it
lilymhe: THANK U BOTH
landonorris: fuck u alex_albon WE PLAYED CUPID FOR YOU
username: not lando and george helping 😭
username: my 2019 rookies ❤️‍🩹
username: george and lando are so sassy LMAOO
1K notes · View notes
auggieblogs · 2 months
Text
Where’s the trophy? | MV1 Instagram au
Max Verstappen x fem! reader
ੈ✩‧₊˚ In which they both are world champions
Author’s note: Hiii, my loves. I hope everyone is doing good. First of all thank you so much for 1k followers, I love you all so much❤️‍🩹. This is not my best work so, apologies in advance!!!
Also this was requested by lovely @sm3156 🥰 (thank you bubs). I had fun writing it<3
―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist
maxverstappen1
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liked by virat.kohli, oscarpiastri and 567,771 others
maxverstappen1 Big congratulations to team India!!!🇮🇳 and my lovely wife. I couldn't be more proud, nothing but love for you❤️
tagged indiancricketteam and yourusername
comments:
username what a match, well played y/n!!!
username please this match had me biting my nails and everything
username just like max
username lmfao he was STRESSED 😭
maxverstappen1 I was actually about to throw up ☝🏻
username max is my favourite wag 🫶🏻
*liked by yourusername*
username like husband like wife (world champions)
virat.kohli Well done, champs. Y/N you're a ⭐
*liked by maxverstappen1 and yourusername*
yousername ❤️❤️❤️
username take a bow everyone
username im not even a cricket fan but i watched it for y/n and it was so worth it
username max giggling like a little girl every time y/n blew him a kiss was my highlight
yourusername So glad you were here to witness it💖
*liked by maxverstappen1*
maxverstappen1 No where I'd rather be.
username she knows how to ball...and bat
username scoot over max verstappen, she's our wife now
username feeling proud indian armyyyy (IYKYK)
oscarpiastri 🏆🇮🇳
username Y/N L/N THE WOMAN YOU ARE!!!!
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, redbullracing and 456,332 others
yourusername My world champion❤️‍🔥 no. 1 looks great on you!!!
tagged maxverstappen1
comments:
username they are so alchemy coded OMFG
username WHERE'S THE TROPHY HE JUST COMES RUNNING OVER TO MEEEE
redbullracing When both of them are world champions>>>
username redbull admin is the biggest y/n & max shipper
username max verstappen i was always familiar
maxverstappen1 Had to live up the L/N name😉
yousername I'm a very proud wife;)
username he is so fucking hot my god
usernmame my fantasy threesome actually.
danielricciardo our* world champion🙄
yousername no sharing tonight im afraid🤷🏻‍♀️
username WOAHHHHH ITS A FAMILY SHOW
username or is it???
username she's literally not better than max, we all saw you throwing away your headsets y/n😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username she was about to commit crimes after that horrible pit stop 💀
yourusername i was pissed okay 😞
username HELP they are equally whipped for each other
579 notes · View notes
jlheon · 4 months
Text
౨ৎ — love exists, i’m full of it (psh)
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pairing. situationship! park sunghoon x fem! reader genre. angst + fluff + suggestive wc. 2745 notes. sunghoon is toxic + implied they are involved sexually + kinda fwb (?) library.
🗯️ extra peng note. i wish i redeemed sunghoon more but you can take the rushed ending as you will </3
synopsis. when park sunghoon breaks up with his long time girlfriend he needs something to get his mind off her, you happen to be the perfect distraction : a girl who’s naive and has never had a boyfriend
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it has been five months since you started your sort of 'arrangement’ with park sunghoon.
you met him at a party. a party you had no business being at.
the party was your average frat party. you were only there to pick up your drunk friend, only to be left banging on the bathroom door for twenty minutes.
she was there with some unknown guy and she told you to go home.
you tried to get through the sea of sweaty bodies when you bumped into someone's hard chest. his drink spilled all over your white shirt, making the drenched fabric completely see through.
you recognized sunghoon as the quiet boy from high school. he never spoke and he was barely present in class, you were bewildered when you watched him walk the stage at graduation.
he seemed to have recognized you too.
you were even prettier than he remembered. that night let himself be a little selfish.
sunghoon was quick to apologize and lead you to his room to lend you a clean shirt.
you ended up staying longer than expected.
sunghoon helped you out the wet shirt, throwing it in his laundry basket, and telling you that he would get out the stain for you.
when sunghoon helped you slip into one of his old shirts he let himself act without thinking.
“my shirt looks good on you,” sunghoon licks his lips as he shamelessly checks you out.
“oh,” you blush, staring at the floor. “thank you.”
“you know,” sunghoon comes closer to whisper in your ear. “you grew up well, i haven’t seen you since graduation.” that was a year ago.
that night, at the age of 19, park sunghoon had successfully taken your first kiss. well, kisses plural. sunghoon had also taken your first make-out.
after an awkward first kiss, you got the hang of it.
sunghoon found it adorable. he could tell you had never kissed anyone before, and you had even outright told him before he leaned it.
your kisses were innocent and shy, nothing like his ex-girlfriend.
he had to place your hands on his shoulders since you stood there with your arms at your sides awkwardly.
sunghoon tried to advance with you once it got steamy but you lightly pushed him off of you.
“sorry,” you apologized. “i’ve never done it before. that was my first kiss,” you sat on his lap with flushed cheeks and tousled hair from sunghoon running his fingers through it.
“that’s okay,” he reassured you. “i wouldn’t want to force you to do anything.”
you try to get up from your spot but sunghoon is stronger than you. he has a firm grip on your hips as he stares into your eyes.
“you’re leaving already?” sunghoon pouts, he's so cute you contemplate kissing him again.
“i mean yeah,” you scratched the back of your neck. “i thought you were looking for a hookup.”
“you don’t want to go further and that’s okay,” sunghoon explains. “but that doesn’t mean you can’t stay.”
you’re even more flustered at his words. why would park sunghoon want to be close to you?
you accept his offer nonetheless. slipping into his arms as you lay on his bed.
sunghoon listens to you ramble about anything. from what you did today leading up to this moment and to the fact you have never had a boyfriend before. you can’t stop talking when your nervous, and park sunghoon makes you even more than nervous.
you’re scared you’re talking too much but sunghoon’s short comments and hums tell you to keep going.
at 12:08 you realize you should probably get back to your dorm.
sunghoon walks you down to your car, holding you close as you weave through the crowd of drunk bodies at the party. he kisses you goodbye before you drive off as a blushing mess.
in the morning, you excitedly tell your hungover roommate about the encounter you had with the mysterious boy from high school.
she informs you the night before you met sunghoon was the very night he and his long-term girlfriend had broken up.
truthfully, hearing that made you feel kind of sad.
two days later he finally texts you that you can come over to exchange shirts.
when sunghoon sees you standing at the door of the frat he can’t help but think about how much prettier you look in the daylight.
clad in a cute pink dress as you stare up at him with your doe eyes, holding his shirt neatly folded in your arms.
he doesn’t think twice before letting you inside and leading you up to his room again.
you end up kissing for an ungodly amount of time. when you don’t feel like it anymore, you find the courage you had in you from the self-pep talk you had before coming and ask him.
“is it true you just broke up with your ex?” you ask while you lean on his chest as you're cuddled up on his bed.
“yeah,” sunghoon replies, eyes still glued to his phone.
“oh,” you frown. “are you over her?”
“it’s only been four days silly,” sunghoon chuckles, setting his phone to look down at you. “of course, i’m not.”
“oh,” you say again. “what is this then?”
“what is what?” sunghoon quirks an eyebrow at you.
“you took my first kiss,” you reminded him, hoping that would mean anything.
“oh,” he says slowly. “this could be a causal thing. you know while i’m getting over her you can get experience.”
“oh i see,” you look at the ceiling.
sunghoon moves down to peck your pouting lips. “so when you get a real boyfriend you’ll know everything since you learned from the best!”
that stung, but regardless you kiss him again to get your mind off of it.
now, three months later since the start of this arrangement, you’ve found sunghoon everything but casual.
for crying out loud, you’re sitting at a fancy restaurant on a date with sunghoon for your birthday.
“happy birthday ____,” sunghoon smiles as he spoon-feeds you the desert he ordered.
“thank you, sunghoon,” you giggle, eating the cake as he watches.
once you’re finished with your bite sunghoon leans in, pecking your lips and licking the bit of icing on the corner of your mouth.
not a day goes past where you don’t wonder why this hasn’t ended and why sunghoon doesn’t want to be your first boyfriend.
every time sunghoon’s name leaves your mouth you’re reminded of the time two months ago when you tried to call him hoon.
he ghosted you for a week after the nickname slipped during a heated make out session in your dorm room.
“i don’t think you should call me hoon,” sunghoon stands at your door, a week after the incident, a week after you last saw him. “you’re starting to sound like you’re my girlfriend.”
“oh,” you stare at him, the sleepiness leaving your body. “of course, i get it!” you force a small smile.
sunghoon enters your dorm at 2:18 am.
he walks towards your bed before getting comfortable under your covers with his arms open. you find yourself wrapped up in his embrace that night and well into the afternoon.
you take note of how he doesn’t kiss you the whole day he spends at your place.
you don’t know whether that is a good or bad thing. on one hand, maybe he is disgusted with you for calling him by a nickname but that wouldn’t make any sense considering the fact he has not let you go in the past six hours. though you hope that this means he finds companionship in you that is more than just the kissing and hookups.
you know you should have stood up a while ago but when sunghoon’s hands find their way into your hair to gently scratch your scalp you give in.
sunghoon and you spend the night together for your birthday. when you wake up skin to skin with him, you start to feel sick.
what the hell have you gotten yourself into?
you’re not even sure what you should label the relationship you and sunghoon have.
sunghoon is your friend. a friend that the first time you talked to him in over a year, took you back to his bedroom door and took your first kiss.
sunghoon is also the closest thing you have ever had to a lover. he’s taken almost all of your firsts. whether that is your first kiss or your first time. he takes you on dates and he never leaves in the middle of the night.
he’s always there for you when you need a ride after a night out with your friends.
which leads you to the latest encounter you’ve had with park sunghoon.
you were so drunk. unbelievably drunk.
it’s been five months since you have started seeing sunghoon and coincidentally the same month your best friend returned from her exchange student program abroad.
you went out for drinks to catch up with her and inevitably spilled your guts about the whole sunghoon situation.
and now you’re wasted with all of your friends with nobody to call and get you but him.
“____?” his raspy voice reverberates in your ear.
“hoon! oh my god, sorry! i mean sunghoon!” your cheery voice slurs. “are you busy?”
“it’s two am,” he responds sarcastically, but your hazy mind doesn’t let you recognize that.
“oh, sorry for bothering you then,” you apologize.
“i’m kidding ____,” sunghoon chuckes. “you need anything?”
“if it’s not a bother, can you pick me up?”
“where are you?” you hear his sheets rustle in the background.
“i’m at a club!” you giggle. “not sure which one!”
“____,” sunghoon sighs. “send me your location.”
“okay!”
when sunghoon arrives at your location he easily spots you drunk on the sidewalk. sitting on the disgusting pavement but you were too drunk and tired to care.
he gets out and carefully gets you into the passenger’s side of his car, buckling you in as you were too sleepy to do it yourself.
once sunghoon can get you inside of your apartment he helps you take off your shoes. carrying your tired body from the car to the hallway to your bed. taking off your makeup with some micellar water even though he saw makeup wipes in your cabinet because he knows they break you out.
he grabs a hoodie that he coincidentally had been looking for off your dresser and changes you out of the short red dress you had been wearing.
sunghoon tucks you under the covers before he sits on the empty side of the bed. he checks his phone to see it is way past three am and he decides maybe he should just stay the night. you’d think that after how long you two have been seeing each other you’ve spent the whole night together but sunghoon always insists on leaving or driving you home. he does this because ‘we aren’t a couple’.
“why are you still here?” you break the silence, which shocks sunghoon as he was sure you were completely knocked out.
“you scared me,” sunghoon breathily chuckles. “thought you were asleep.”
“‘m waiting for you to leave,” you yawn out, snuggling further into your duvet, sunghoon can’t help the smile breaking onto his face at the sight.
“why?” he questions, climbing under the covers next to you.
“don’t wanna embarrass myself in front of you,” you answer meekly. “you make me nervous.”
“don’t be silly ____, it’s just me,” sunghoon attempts to reassure you.
“that’s the problem,” you mumble, confusing sunghoon further. “being around you is weird because we’re re not dating but sometimes it feels like we are.”
“i guess so,” he stares at the side of your face, admiring how you look even prettier without makeup on while he can, given the fact you never let him see you without makeup. he doesn’t understand why. “but i’ve seen you in so many different states.”
“i kind of hate that,” you confess. “i’ve always wanted to fall in love. you check off almost everything ten year old me wished for, except for the fact we’re not dating, and you like me like that anyways.”
you never fail to make park sunghoon speechless.
“i just know little me is screaming at me,” you giggle, though your mood changes drastically. “i know that love is real because i exist and i’m unfortunately full of it, but i think i have too much already so nobody is going to give me any back.” you shift away from him.
“that’s not true,” sunghoon takes a deep breath before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.
“then why can’t it be you?” your voice falters as tears well up in your eyes. “i want it to be you.”
“i can’t answer that right now,” sunghoon says apologetically, holding you closer.
he does not get any sleep that night. his eyes don’t even shut, only closing for a second to blink. sunghoon cannot stop thinking about your tearful confession.
your words replay in his mind like a broken record.
he wants to be with you so bad but he fears that once you establish your relationship he’s going to be the worst boyfriend imaginable. since that’s what his ex and him had constantly fought over, leading to the demise of their relationship.
he’s never shared with anyone how toxic him and his ex were.
so when he met you that night at the party he let his selfishness take over him. the way you were so sweet and shy towards him was so refreshing.
sunghoon knows it was wrong to string you along so he could use you to get over his ex girlfriend, but he couldn’t just let you go, but he also couldn’t jump into another relationship so quickly.
he failed to consider how this whole arrangement would make you feel. you’d been seeing each other for nearly half a year now, way longer than either of you anticipated.
but now he knows that you stuck around even though it was doing nothing but hurt you just because he had you completely wrapped around his finger.
you wanted to love him and he didn’t think he could be good enough to give you the love you dreamed about.
sunghoon thought he was a total douche.
the next morning you're surprised to feel a pair of arms around you. maybe you finally broke out of your shell last night and met someone at the bar who wasn’t sunghoon.
sunghoon can’t bear to hurt you, but it seems like he’s already been doing that all along.
“you’re awake,” you hear his familiar voice and slip out of his hold, sitting up, and scooting away.
“i am,” you reply, looking down at your clothes. “why are you still here?”
“am i not allowed to be?” sunghoon jokes, his eyebags prominent.
“i mean,” you scratch your head. “after what i said last night i thought you would hate me. this is only supposed to be casual and i ruined it.”
“you didn’t ruin anything,” sunghoon sits up and reaches for your hand to interlace it with his. “it’s my fault for-”
“no, don’t blame yourself. i knew what i was getting into and i assumed you would like me given time. i just hope we can still be friends,” your glossy eyes bore into his.
“i don’t want to be friends-”
“wow, okay. after i just spilled my guts?” you pull your hand away from his and back away.
“stop cutting me off,” sunghoon runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “i want to be your boyfriend.”
“am i still drunk,” you whisper to yourself as you check your surroundings.
“you’re sober now,” sunghoon reaches out for you once more. “let me be your boyfriend, please?”
you stare at sunghoon’s desperate and tired expression and crack a smile. throwing yourself into his lap. “not yet,” you say, muffled against his neck, as close to him as possible.
“this can be a restart,” you suggest, gazing up at him. “i think i’ll need some time.”
“can’t be a restart when i’ve seen every inch of you,” sunghoon smirks as he looks down.
“shut up!” your ears redden as you push his shoulder.
“take you all the time you need,” sunghoon pecks your forehead. “i’m always waiting for you and i’ll prove myself.”
673 notes · View notes
bomber-grl · 11 months
Text
Mike Schmidt relationship headcannons !
Pairing(s): Mike Schmidt x Gn!Reader
Note! Has some plot | This is my relationship headcannons for movie Mike, stating this because I just might make video game Michael Afton headcannons aswell in the near future
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Very closed off and not looking for a relationship
He had hired you to take care of Abby when he was away and that’s how you two began getting closer.
Not the best conversation starter, however when you gave him the opportunity to speak about the dream theory he starts going on about it.
Then he apologizes and begins feeling a bit unsure and awkward.
It never really advanced from there and he’d almost constantly apologize and reassure that he’d pay you soon, but you never really cared for it.
Really peaked his interest when he realized that Abby had really grown to like you and began inviting you to do things with the both of them.
You, of course accepted and eventually Mike had started developing feelings for you.
Just as you did for him.
He didnt act on them at first.
Primarily Because he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, especially not with someone like you with him.
You were amazing, and he was a sad grown man who had to care for his little sister, and not even in a way he saw proper.
So of course he shuts it down, telling himself it’d be better off that way.
However, some way, somehow you got involved with Freddy’s pizzeria and you not only managed to save him but also Abby.
Then from there it just went uphill.
He got a better job, better pay, and is able to connect with Abby easier.
Not only that but the custody battle has been leaning in his favor.
He had no one to thank but you.
You’d take Abby to school, occasionally cook for them, and you were always reliable.
One fateful evening you and Mike were just hanging out in the living room.
Talking and just watching whatever was on TV.
Then he brought up your relationship, and stated that he’d really like to start one with you, a romantic one, that is.
You of course, said yes, and he was relieved and happy at your reaction.
But then Abby came to mind, what would she think?
You asked him this almost immediately.
But he reassured and said that the final push was actually when Abby hinted/teased her older brother about your potential relationship, then ran off.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and an awkward atmosphere hung in the air but then Mike went to hold you hand and it made it semi better.
The next morning you almost immediately told Abby and she was so happy.
Which really relieved the both of you.
-
Things had changed, albeit subtly.
And although Mike wasn’t the most physically affectionate, probably due to him being pretty much touched starved and traumatized.
He tried his best to convey his affection towards you with teasing and joking around.
You’d often just enjoy the others company and bond mostly with Abby around.
If you were to ever do something even a little bit flirty around her she’d immediately be grossed out.
Which was funny, and was mentally noted to ever do again in her presence, even if it was just a kid friendly comment.
Your guy’s first kiss was pretty intimate
I mean Mike had never seemed much interested in kissing or doing anything further down the road.
However, after a particularly draining day, and horrible weather outside, Mike had offered you to stay for the night.
Abby was so excited and the three of you played with her just a little bit over her curfew then sent her off to bed.
When you were finally able to be alone, Mike, very awkwardly and a bit bashful, offered for you to sleep in his bed.
You, like the amazing person you were, rejected and said that it was fine and that he should just sleep there.
Not completely understanding that Mike didn’t mean separate, but together.
Once he bashfully explains that all you can do is mutter out an “oh” and go along with it.
Pretty awkward as you both just lay down as stiff as rods in silence.
Then you guys begin talking.
And it’s just you two talking about whatever at like 2 a.m, trying your best to keep it down.
If you decide to be bold and make a move by asking if you could cuddle with him, then he’d hesitantly agree.
Again, not because he hates you, but because he’s an awkward guy.
So once you’re settled in each others arms you start talking about each others traumas and mostly hidden things.
It’s the sleep deprivation getting to you guys.
Well once you’re both finished venting and just being vulnerable you decide to make a move and lean forward, giving him plenty of time to move if it’s not wanted.
But he didn’t, and the clash of your lips followed soon after and how drawed out it was won’t be mentioned by either of you either.
Things not only start changing and he’s side hugging you more (publicly)
Although not really into pda
And be more affectionate (as he can)
I’m sure at one point you get so comfortable with one another that although awkward moments occur, most of them spent together is just you saying cringe stuff and making him regret ever making it out alive of Freddy’s.
From then on, not only do you tease and get a worthwhile reaction but he’s always hugging and giving you cheek kisses in private.
He’s also grown fond of cuddling, just because of how close he gets to be to you.
If you were to ever tell him he’s hot.
He’d get really taken back but then laughs it off and says whatever.
(Saying this because I know those fans of him exist 😭)
Honestly it’s kind of hard for you to tell when he’s being sarcastic or not😔
He’s always making snarky and joking remarks and hard to tell when he’s just being his sassy self.
Honestly home dude is just trying his best and his relationship with you really lightened up his life even more.
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Note! Should I make a pt 2 with Mike as your husband?
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