#Best thing to do with those kids is just be like “okay” and then ignore them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hairmetal666 · 10 months

Text

The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.

It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:

"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."

His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.

"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.

"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."

He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.

---

The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.

---

The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.

Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"

"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.

Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."

Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.

"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."

The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"

"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.

Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.

"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.

"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.

"This is really good, Will."

Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"

"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"

"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"

Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"

"Really?" Their eyes light up.

"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."

"Cool," says Dustin.

He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.

Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.

"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.

He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."

"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.

"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.

"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"

"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"

"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"

"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."

They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."

The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."

Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.

---

He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.

---

His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.

"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.

"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.

He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"

She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."

He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.

"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."

"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"

They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."

El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."

"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.

---

Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.

Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."

---

He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.

Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).

"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"

"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"

"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.

Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."

"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.

"What's wrong?"

"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."

"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.

He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"

And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."

"What?"

"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"

"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."

Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.

"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."

"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.

"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."

"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.

"Um. Yes?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"

"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.

---

Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.

Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"

"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."

"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."

"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"

Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.

Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.

"It's not funny!" Steve says.

That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."

Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.

Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.

"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.

"What, like, make them think they failed?"

"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."

Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"

"Why don't you get over here and see."

As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.

4K notes · View notes

berzahoes · 5 months

Text

“slut!” | tom blyth

summary: in a word full of boys, tom is a gentleman.

an: takes place before filming billy the kid

warnings: mean names hence the title also if you care, reader is the same age as tom lol

“so keep your boyfriends hidden because y/n is newly single!”

“how many boyfriends has she had in the last four years?”

“clearly she’s the problem if she can’t keep a boyfriend.”

you heard it all. the names people called you, the headlines, news reports. it was always the same. people would rather shame you for your love life than be quiet. in the past you did joke that you went on many dates, clearly the media didn’t care if you were joking or not.

your manager had even banned you from looking at the really negative comments on your phone. twitter was having a field day with your love life.

“slut!” was the phrase often directed towards you. while your loyal fans defend you, you could still see all the hurtful things people said about you.

“do you want to cancel tomorrow’s interview?” lisa, your manager, asked one day. you hadn’t answered your phone at all and she was concerned so she drove to your new york apartment and let herself in with the spare key she had. she had found you in the darkness of your room curled up with your plethora of blankets.

“cancel everything. i just want to rest for a while.” you managed to say. lisa was like your second mom. she cared about you more than anything.

“we can do that.” lisa assured.

“lisa?” you turned to face her.

“yes?”

“thanks for checking on me.”

“always.”

after that conversation, lisa made some calls and any movie or tv show deal you had were quickly cancelled. over the next few days, the media found out that you pulled out of many movies from big franchises like marvel and star wars. it was always a dream of yours to be in anything marvel or star wars related, but for now, those projects had to continue without you.

many friends and colleagues reached out to you, but all you could do was send a simple ‘thank you’ and be done with it.

days passed and you were still in your apartment. you didn’t mind being alone, you liked it better that way. sometimes lisa or your parents would drop by or even your upstairs neighbor, mrs. davis, a nice old lady who knew that your favorite cupcakes were red velvet so she made you some to cheer you up.

it was a tuesday afternoon when you heard someone cursing multiple out in the hallway. you figured someone got locked out so you ignored it. pretty much everyone in the entire building got locked out at least once. you were ignoring the cursing as you continued reading your book and ate your red velvet cupcake that your kind neighbor had made you. a few seconds later, you heard a knock on your door.

“no.” you groaned as you stood up to answer the door. you opened it to find tom. you had only known him because you had a mutual friend so you were surprised to see him at your door.

“hi,” he spoke. “i called and texted . . a lot. i just wanted to see how you were.”

“i’m alive as you can see.” you said.

“i know you’ve been asked this question a lot lately but are you okay?”

that’s when you broke down. you couldn’t keep it together in front of tom, but he didn’t mind comforting you. somehow he knew exactly what you needed to hear.

he would often come over to keep you company when lisa or your parents couldn’t. he understood you didn’t want to step foot outside so he didn’t force you. instead, you two would go up to the terrace of your apartment building and hang out. tom would bring lunch or dinner depending on the time that he decided to visit. during that time, you two would talk about whatever would come to mind. tom did his best to avoid talking about work, but you always asked how his filming was going or if he had auditioned for anything new.

“i got the part,” he admitted. “i’m playing billy the kid.” he smiled brightly.

“I’m so happy for you, tom! you deserve it!” you hugged him.

“it’ll be announced next week. you’re the first to know, well apart from my manager.” he chuckled.

“you deserve that and more.” you smiled.

“you do too. other people should see that,” tom said. “you’re so talented and amazing and everything about you is so. . . incredible. i wish people see you the way i do.”

you were speechless.

“are you okay?” tom asked when he noticed you were quiet.

fuck. fuck. fuck FUCK he thought to himself

“you mean it?” you managed to say. you could feel yourself start to blush.

“every bit and more. i enjoy being with you and if i could be with you for the rest of my life then i would die a happy man.”

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #actress!reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth one shot

2K notes · View notes

joonberriess · 10 months

Text

s e v e n

p a i r i n g : jungkook x reader

g e n r e : baby daddy au

t a g s : sleazy!jk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, messy sex, half assed blowjob, rough sex, possessive!jk, he’s a jealous mess, he’s also like a lost puppy following you around, pervy!jk, dirty talk, light degradation, jk literally wants you all the time, oc is mean n cunty, but she’s also weak when it comes to him, me thinks he’s toxic, toxic!jk tag to be safe (for now LMAO), hyunjin gets put in his place three times LMAO, sex tapes, THIS IS NASTY Y’ALL

w o r d c o u n t : 5.5 k

s u m m a r y : “You know night after night, I’ll be fuckin’ you right,” or: “Girl hold on my baby daddy calling again.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh deeply, “I’m not kidding you can’t miss this, it’s his special day and he wants his dad there too,” You grit your teeth while digging through the pantry with your phone balanced on your shoulder, “No! I already told you what he wants to do afterwards we’re not just going to cancel those plans because you wanna show off when you feel like it. He’s six!”

You’re already irritated and Jungkook clearly wasn’t making things any better with his nonchalant attitude and condescending words/tone. “Jungkook–you’re not listening–”

“Baby I heard ya loud and clear, stop stressin’ that pretty little head of yours. Sounds like you’re about to pop a nerve or something,” Jungkook replies with that stupid laugh of his, “I mean I know a couple things that can help you relax.”

You close your eyes and count to three under your breath tilting your head back and pinching the bridge of your nose. “...Tell me to calm down one more time and see what happens Jeon Jungkook,” you go to say more but he cuts you off.

“I didn’t tell you to calm down, I said to stop stressing.”

“........” Oh this man had you mad already, and he wasn’t even here yet. You ignore his voice and shakily set down the bag of bread you had pulled from the pantry. This man was so fucking dead when he got here.

“Ow–! Baby what the hell?” Jungkook yelps as soon as he walks through the door, he’s holding his arms up to block the stuff you throw at him (and they’re not soft either). “Did I do something?” He whines.

You glare fiercely back at him, “Did you do something? Don’t act smart with me Jungkook, you know damn well what you’re doing. Stop acting stupid because you look stupid.” You hurl your son’s toy ball at him and perfectly strike his head, “Today is not the day you hear me, Jiho’s been looking forward to his recital and you’re not going to ruin it by being a deadbeat.” You seethe.

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender, “Baby all I said was to quit stressin’,” he walks over carefully in case you planned on throwing something else, “you know I’d never make my baby mad on purpose.” He wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you to his chest, “Is this a new dress? Looks sexy.” He teases as he sneaks his hand down to your ass and squeezes it through the dress.

“Don’t change the subject,” you shake his hand away and stare up at him, “and how do you keep coming in here? Nevermind that, stop coming in like you live here.” You grunted.

“I found the key under the doormat, you should really hide it somewhere else.” Jungkook grins as he tries to kiss you but he misses and ends up kissing up on the side of your face, “ “Don’t be like that babe.” He pouts.

You grumble once more and relax into his arms, “Swear to me you’re not going to mess this up for Jiho.” You grab his face and direct it towards you, “Swear it.” You stare into his eyes with a pleading look.

Jungkook nods, “I swear.” He gently squeezes you, “I only want the best for Jiho too, he’s my son after all.” You stare at him, as if you’re trying to find any hints of deceivement but you find none in his eyes, in fact he looks sincere for once.

“Okay..” You softly reply and let his face go, “I believe you.”

He does that stupid (but charming) thing where he smiles coyly, borderline smirking, as he stares down at you with those playful eyes of his. “Now what do you say we relax a little yeah? You’re looking a little too fine for me to let it go to waste baby..” He gently runs his hands up and down your sides, slithering their way back to your ass like he had them before.

You laugh in disbelief, “You’re ridiculous, I can’t believe you.” You shake your head as Jungkook leans down to bury his nose in the side of your neck, “Fine.”

Jungkook grins triumphantly as he spins you around in the direction of the hallway where the bedroom lies. “Lead the way lil’ mama.” Jungkook murmurs in a low tone, eyes dropping down to admire your pretty ass. You take his hand and lead the way, biting back small laughs of amusement as he encircles his arms around you from behind and kisses on your neck.

You stumble into the room and let the straps of your sundress slip off your shoulders but he stops you, “No, wanna fuck you in it baby.” He whispers in your ear as he guides you on to the bed, “Damn, you look so fuckin’ fine walkin’ around like this. If only they knew how I make you mine every night baby.” He stands at the edge of the bed, hands slowly undoing his belt buckle and jeans. His Calvin Klein boxers peek out from underneath in all their glory making your mouth water a tiny bit.

“And if I said this dress wasn’t for you? I mean, you fuck me every night but do you know who comes when you’re not here?” You lick your lips with a smirk, “You have no clue what happens when you’re gone.” Jungkook’s eyes darken at that, the way he looks at you is enough to have you creaming your panties.

“Oh yeah? Like who mama? Go on and tell me,” He climbs on the bed and flips your dress up, “does he make you cum like I do? Has you shaking n creamin’ this slutty pussy all over his cock?” He yanks your panties down your legs and tosses the ruined item on to the ground below, “Let me tell you something,” he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, “he may be here when I’m gone but you always come back for this dick baby.”

You bite back your moan from the utter filth he just spewed at you, your poor pussy’s throbbing from all this and you desperately need his tongue or something on you. “Jungkook,” you quietly groan, “if you’re gonna fuck around then let go.” You glare.

“Patience, wanna savor my baby’s sweet lil’ pussy.” He hungrily licks his lips, “You got a man starved sweetheart,” he goes down between your legs, “I’ll make sure you forget all about your..friend.” He shoots a wink at you before he disappears under your dress.

Jungkook’s hot breath fans over your poor cunt and it tickles your clit and sends a shiver down your spine in anticipation. Luckily he doesn’t disappoint and his tongue dips low between your dewy soft folds, licking upwards until he circles your clit. A long sigh slips past your lips, you slide your hands into his hair and grip the curly strands as a means to hold on, “Oh fuck..” You whisper.

Jungkook hums against your pussy and buries himself nose deep while he licks and sucks at your slicked up hole. His nose brushes past your clit, bumping it gently and causing tiny little jolts of pleasure. “Mm..” You spread your thighs wider to make more room for him. You can feel his tongue prod at your sopping hole, dipping in teasingly but not quite slipping in just yet.

He curls his hands around your thighs and groans low, you can see his hips rock up into the bed as he grinds his hard cock over the sheets. The sight sends shivers down your spine as you push your pussy up into his mouth, “Kook,” you bite your lip, “need more..”

Jungkook makes some obscene slurping noises before he pulls away, panting slightly before he dives back in, only this time he aims for your sensitive clit. He wraps his lips around the bud and suckles, moaning so the vibrations travel. A shocked moan leaves you, your eyes slip shut and you roll your hips like you’re trying to fuck your pussy into his mouth some more.

His fingers trail down to push into your sloppy cunt, a low lewd squelching noise audible in the background as he fucks his fingers in and out of you steadily. Your toes curl and you hike your legs up over his shoulders. Jungkook doesn’t take it easy on your poor cunt opting to fuck his fingers in at a fast pace. He swirls his tongue around your clit and flicks it repeatedly until he has you squirming from the rapid pleasure building.

“Kook,” you moan, “fuck–hold on,” you try to push his head away but he tightens his grip on you and moves his fingers faster at godspeed. “Jungkook,” you moaned loudly and arch your back.

He pulls away from your cunt and pants heavily, “Go on, cum for me.” He licks his lips, “Get ‘em nice and wet for me.” He smirks with hazy eyes, emerging from under your dress but keeping up that rapid pace.

Your lips form a small ‘o’ and your pussy flutters around his fingers, “Oh fuck..!” You cry out and reach for the sheets, grabbing and twisting at them as you thrash around. “Mmm..! Mm,” you throw your head back and gasp as your orgasm finally hits hard.

“There you go baby, that’s it.” He leans down to capture your lips in a smooth and slow kiss, “Did so good for me.” He purrs against your lips watching as you tiredly moaned and slumped against the bed, “C’mere mama,” he helped you sit up, “need your mouth on my cock.” He shoves his boxers down enough to let his cock spring out.

It slaps against his stomach with a lewd noise, making you bite your lip in desire. “Get it wet for me,” Jungkook strokes his cock with a low sigh as he slaps the tip against your lips repeatedly, “c’mon sweetheart.” He guides your head forward towards his cock with a hitched breath.

You part your lips and wrap them around the weeping tip hearing him curse under his breath. His hand tangles in your hair and bites down on his lip, “There you go baby, look so fuckin’ sexy with my cock in your mouth.” He guides your head back and forth, hissing quietly when you gently scrape your teeth around the shaft.

Jungkook moans low when your tongue runs over a sensitive vein along his cock. You give him a harsh suck slowly pulling off his cock with a wet pop, it slaps against your lips and you smirk up at him, “Like that?”

“Just like that.” He repeats and gently pushes you back, “Open ‘em.” He pats your thighs, “We got an hour left before we gotta go.” He murmurs, “and I don’t plan on letting you walk outta here without a fuckin’.” He’s so vulgar it literally annoys you how much it turns you on when he talks like that about you.

You bite your lip and hoist your legs around his waist, reaching down to replace his hand on his cock as you press the bulbous head against your pussy, rubbing up and down while smearing your slick around. Jungkook watches you with hooded eyes as he holds himself up over you, “Go on baby, slip me right in your little pussy.”

His cock throbs in your hand and you take pity on him, letting the tip slip right in through the mess he created of you earlier. Your lips part as you guide him inch for inch until he’s bottomed out inside your pussy, balls deep and hips pressed against yours. Jungkook moans quietly and tests the waters by pressing in deeply, he rocks his hips slowly just enjoying the feeling of your soft pussy wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck me,” you sigh out and relax, this is exactly what you were craving for, you never wanted the feeling to end.

“I am baby.” Jungkook grins and pushes up into you once more, “Pussy feels so fuckin’ snug around me, ‘s all soaked for me too, bet you don’t get this wet for anyone else.” He grinds in deeply, hips circling slowly as his cock bumps into your sensitive spots and has you seeing stars for a moment.

You let out a long whimper and shut your eyes, “Oh fuck, right there Kook,” you whisper, “fuck, fuck, fuck me please.” You whine lowly and reach down to shove your dress up higher around your hips, “Need it so bad.”

“Need what baby?” Jungkook leaves tiny kisses down the side of your neck and shoulders, “C’mon, wanna hear you say it. Let me hear that filthy mouth of yours, I know how fuckin’ nasty you can get.” He whispers in your ear, hips grinding in that one spot you oh so love.

You shudder in pleasure and moan uncontrollably, “Mm right there–fuck, oh fuck, harder baby..” You whimper out, eyes shutting and thighs trembling once again. Jungkook thankfully doesn’t stall any longer, he re-adjusts his grip by sliding his hands under your ass and gripping both cheeks before he begins plowing into you.

He drives his cock deeper, his hips slap against your ass with loud smacking noises ringing throughout the bedroom. You lay there moaning unabashedly as he fucks the ever living shit out of you in broad daylight. Jungkook moans and pants softly in your ear, whispering a bunch of utter filth that only makes your pussy squeeze his cock and weep around him.

“You like that don’t you baby. Always been such a little slut for me, ain’t that right? This pussy belongs to me?” He growls in your ear and suddenly pins you to the bed with his hand wrapped around your throat, “You think you can just run off with someone else baby? Oh not afuckin’ chance, because at the end of the day you’ll always come running back to daddy won’t you?” He snaps his hips upward punishingly, striking your g-spot over and over again.

You cry out weakly and wildly buck your hips, the question flies right past you and you almost forget he even said anything from how good it felt. Jungkook doesn’t take too kindly and smacks your cheek a couple of times to get your attention as he asks you the question all over again, “Mmm–yeah,” you breathe out all high and soft, “only yours daddy.”

Jungkook rumbles quietly in satisfaction before he lets you go and sits up on his haunches, he grabs your waist and uses it as leverage, he begins slamming himself in and out of your poor abused cunt. You almost cry from how good it feels, your moans are choked up and some come out as pitiful little whimpers.

“Daddy–” You throw your head back and brace your hand against the sheets. The force of his thrusts is enough to send you shifting up against the mattress, there’s loud creaking noises to accompany the skin slapping skin. It just sounds like filthy fucking at this point.

Jungkook bites his lip and moans under his breath as his eyes lock on your bouncing tits, he digs his fingers into your waist and grips you so tight you know you’re going to bruise. He throws his head back with a long satisfied moan, “Oh fuck,” he rolls his hips quickly, “you’re gonna fucking make me cum baby.” He whispers breathily.

You squeeze around him with purpose, “Cum,” you whine, “inside.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, not at least verbally, he lets out a series of lewd moans and whispers of promises. He smacks his hips into yours and reaches between you two to thumb at your clit, rubbing the bud in tight fast circles. Your orgasm comes as a surprise, feeling like eternity as you sob in pleasure and plead for more.

“Fuck..!” Jungkook groans loud and long. His cock throbs and he slams three more times before pressing himself balls deep as he fills you with his cum. “Shit..” He laughs breathlessly and runs a hand through his messy hair, “That was a good one..” He mutters with a slap to your ass as he collapses next to you.

You pant softly and turn to the alarm clock on the nightstand, “Thirty minutes.” You sigh and roll out of bed, “Get up we’re leaving.” You say while wobbling to the bathroom to freshen the hell up, “I mean it Jungkook don’t you dare make us late.” You call out from the bathroom.

Jungkook hums, “Let a man rest sweetheart, you practically drained my balls.” He replies with a sigh, “Probably made another kid just now.” He smirks to himself as he closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head.

“Seriously sometimes I wonder how old you really are.” You shake your head as you stand in the doorway observing his relaxed form, “And I wonder why I even let you back in either. You’re not useful for anything.”

He cracks one eye open at you and smirks, “Admit it, you love my cock too much to cut me off baby, you can’t deny I don’t rock your entire world. Without me who’s gonna fuck you till you’re seeing stars?” He sits up and ignores the fact that his limp cock lays out in the open coated in slick and cum. “Does my baby need another round?” He opens his arms with a mock pout.

“Get the hell out we’re going to be late you fucking asshole.” You grit your teeth and storm off to find your shoes you were planning on wearing to the recital.

“Ay-ay captain.” Jungkook chuckles.

“Mama, mama! Did you see me up there?” Jiho comes running over with pure excitement in his eyes as he hugs your legs and looks up at you with those little doe eyes of his that you oh so love (not so much on the father..).

“Of course baby, you did so good up there my little man is a star.” You coo back and squat down to his level, “A little birdie told me that we should go get some pizza and ice cream at the park. How does that sound to you my love?” You gently cradle his cheek and caress it lovingly.

Jiho’s eyes lighten up at the mention of all those things, but what really breaks your heart is the noise he makes when he finally sees Jungkook behind you. “Daddy you came?!” Jiho runs over to hug him tightly, “Did you see me? Did you see me?” He excitedly jumps.

Jungkook softens and leans down to pick Jiho up with ease, “Course I saw champ you killed it, hell I think you even did better than that Sunhye girl.” He smirks as Jiho giggles uncontrollably, “What’s so funny huh?” He coos tickling his son on the side teasingly.

“Daddy just said a curse word.” Jiho covers his mouth shyly and looks at you. Your heart melts and you reach over to gently squeeze his chubby little cheek.

“Did he now baby? But remember what mommy said? Mommy doesn’t want you to end up like daddy love.” You side eye Jungkook with a nasty little glare before going back to Jiho with a soft smile, “C’mon, daddy said he’s taking you out today.” You kiss his cheek.

Jiho lights up in excitement, “Really daddy?!” He throws his arms around Jungkook’s neck and kicks his legs excitedly, “I can’t wait! I’m going to show you my new car collection daddy, it’s so cool I barely got it last week when mama and I went to the store.” He rambles on and on before he pauses, “You are coming over…right?” He quietly asks.

Jungkook nods, “Of course,” he says immediately, “you know I will champ.” He softly smiles and presses a kiss to his temple, “Daddy will always come over when you want.” This seems to satiate Jiho who goes back to his cheerful little rambles. It shouldn’t hurt you but this time it does, and you hate the bitter feeling it leaves in your mouth.

The day passes by and night time soon falls, Jiho of course asks Jungkook to put him to bed after hours of playing together. It warms your heart to see Jiho this happy with Jungkook, you wish it stayed like that..

“Hey babe,” Jungkook passes by behind you with a sneaky ass grab as he opens the fridge, “finally put Jiho down, little guy was out like a light.” He chuckles under his breath fondly.

You smile softly, “That’s my favorite part of the day, listening to him talk about the things he did and the new stuff he learns.. I wouldn’t miss it.” You turn the sink off and dry your hands, “Are you staying the night?” You raise a brow.

Jungkook nods, “Eh, I figured why the hell not. I don’t have anything to do tomorrow anyways.” He says and pops open a beer, “Plus I get to spend the night with my babies.” He winks at you.

You roll your eyes, “Of course.. Don’t you dare make a mess in my kitchen Jungkook.” You warn and walk off to the living room intending to watch some TV before bed. Jungkook trails after you like a lost puppy and you suppress a sigh, “What is it now?”

“Is it a crime to wanna be with you sweetheart? I’m sure you’d love some company right now.” Jungkook huffs and sits next to you on the couch with his arm thrown over your shoulders, “Aw c’mon sweetheart, don’t give me that look. Not after what went down this afternoon.” He buries his face in your shoulder and kisses it gently.

You sink into his arms and shoot him a glare, “Only reason I don’t kick you out is because Jiho’s gonna want to see you in the morning. If it were up to me your ass would be on the curb.” You grumble and pick up the remote, “And stop getting so close to me your breath stinks like beer.” You push his face away.

Jungkook’s shoulders shake as he laughs (obnoxiously in your opinion), “Fine, only cause you said so.” He says and gets up to head back into the kitchen. He re-emerges empty handed and in his wife beater tank top, his sweater is ditched and tossed to the side. “Better for you?” He holds his arms out.

“Yeah.” You turn back to the TV, “Now be quiet I’m trying to watch this.” You mumble.

Jungkook silently slips onto the couch right up beside you again. He slips his arm around and tugs you to his side with a quiet grunt. You grumble quietly and turn to face him as you push him back onto the couch and climb on top of him, “This is better..” You mutter softly and lay your head on his chest.

You don’t miss the way he smiles at you and hugs you closer, “Good night.” He says, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. He hears a faint ‘night’ and with that he lets his eyes slip shut as he falls asleep with a dumb little smile on his face.

“Idiot..” You whisper softly, surprised at how fond you sound at the moment, but he doesn’t have to know that.

A few days later you’re gone for work and Jungkook comes over to take care of Jiho. At first nothing too big happens, they play some games and then have breakfast before Jungkook takes Jiho out to the mall and then they come back to have lunch. Right now however Jiho was napping leaving Jungkook all by himself.

He takes one last look at Jiho before he slips outside for a needed smoke session. Jungkook always did like the view from your balcony, it gave him like a sense of peace and security whenever he sat out there smoking a cigarette. He really did feel at ease. He spends a couple minutes looking out at the sunset and city and then he checks his phone right after when he gets bored of that.

Jungkook’s in the middle of texting back Namjoon when he hears the doorbell ring. He frowns in confusion and looks back, you didn’t say anything about having anyone over or anything being delivered. He tucks the cigarette between his lips and makes his way over to the front door.

“y/n, hey! I was wondering if–” some guy standing on the other side of the door starts but quickly stops when he sees Jungkook standing in the doorway instead of y/n.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook leans against the doorway and eyes the guy up and down, “You lost or somethin’ kid?”

“Huh? Who are you? I’ve never seen you around before and y/n’s never talked about a guy before..” He trails off, eyeing Jungkook up and down too but only this time he doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for him. Jungkook’s aware of how he looks right now, and damn if he doesn’t look good.

“I’m y/n’s baby daddy, now who the fuck are you?” Jungkook snorts and takes a long drag from the cigarette, blowing the smoke in the dude’s face.

The dude looks at him with a glare, “I’m her friend and neighbor.”

“Neighbor huh, good then you don’t need to be around then. I don’t take too kindly to random ass men trying to hit on my girl like that, because we both know you see her more than a neighbor so do me a favor and turn your ass back around unless you wanna really get to know me.” Jungkook flicks the ashes at him, “Nice meeting ya.” He grins and slams the door in his face.

“Friend huh..” Jungkook chuckles.

It’s late when you finally arrive home, you make a quick stop to get the mail before heading up when you’re stopped by Hyunjin, your adorable but annoying neighbor, “Heyy, what’s up why you out so late?” You smile tiredly while sorting your mail out.

Hyunjin looks bothered as he looks off to the side, “Nothing, just needed some fresh air you know? Anyways that’s not what I’m here for, I didn’t know you were seeing someone?” He says softly and when he sees your confused face he continues, “That guy up there? The one with tattoos and shit? He’s rude as hell.”

You internally groan, what did he do now.. “Yeah? Well, I’m not seeing him–seeing him…technically..” You trail off before sighing in defeat, “He’s my baby daddy.”

“Ohh, I thought he was lying or something because I thought no way would you ever go with someone like him. Much less have a kid with him.” He shakes his head, “He’s seriously a bad influence though, he literally was smoking in the house like you know how bad that can be for Jiho?” Hyunjin scoffs and shakes his head, “The nerve of him to call himself a parent.”

“Listen kid, whatever the fuck he does is very much his and my business. I don’t need your two pennies of a fucking opinion on my baby daddy, yeah, that’s my child’s father and what about it? I must have seen something in him if I still went and fucked him and had his kid. So don’t you ever speak on him again unless you want me to call him downstairs you little shit.” You glare and storm off to the elevators leaving a shocked Hyunjin in the back.

“Fuckin’ nerve of this brat.” You mutter and get your keys out, “Seriously.”

You walk into the apartment and are immediately greeted with Jungkook sitting there with a pissed expression. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You ask as you kick your heels off, “Where’s Jiho?”

“He’s sleeping, had dinner and went to bed.” Jungkook stands up and makes his way over to you slowly, “Who the fuck was that kid that came knocking earlier?” He cups your chin and tilts your head to face him, “He the one you fucking or what?” He grits his teeth.

You stare back at him annoyed, “He’s some dumb ass college kid Jungkook, and no I’m not fucking him. As if..” You mutter the last part and walk to the bedroom, “If you’re just gonna bitch about him sleep on the couch I beg, I’m so fucking tired from work I just wanna sleep okay? Bitch at me another time.” You sigh.

Jungkook kicks the door shut behind him and comes up behind you to hug you, “Mm.. Just wanna help my lil’ mama relax is all,” he says in your ear, “I already knew you two weren’t fucking anyways, he makes it so obvious.” Jungkook smirks as he kisses your shoulder, reaching around the front to unbutton your blouse, “Still he fuckin’ pissed me off.” He growls.

“I know, trust me.” You smirk softly and turn around in his hold and wrap your arms around his neck, “You’ll help me relax won’t you?” You whisper against his lips.

“I’ll do more than that baby.” Jungkook grins back.

Jungkook has you spread out for him on all fours, back arched sensually and your face buried in your pillows. Sweat glistens on his forehead as he moans under his breath whilst moving his hips leisurely, not in any rush whatsoever. Your moans are muffled but the sounds your pussy makes make up for it.

“Fucking shit, you look so goddamn perfect for me all bent over with that pretty ass of yours bouncing on my cock.” Jungkook grunts as he slides his hands down to your waist to steady you.

“Jungkook,” you whimper out as you lift your head from the pillow, “need it faster.” You push back on his cock and gasp shakily when he hits something inside of you, “Oh fuck baby right there,” you whimper out, “mm, mm.”

He moans in response and lands a heavy smack on your ass, “Yeah? You like it when I hit it right there baby? ‘S got you creamin’ all over my cock right now.” He gasps softly as he speeds up and fucks into your harder.

You eyes flutter shut and you stick a hand down between your thighs to rub at your clit in tiny circles, “I love it,” you sigh out, “feels so good.” Jungkook spanks you again and it causes you to moan loud over the noises of his balls slapping against your clit and your ass bouncing off his pelvis. “Fuck..!”

Jungkook sees your phone light up from the corner of his eye and he peers over, he sees it’s that fucking kid from earlier texting you shit about how he’s sorry. Oh Jungkook’s gonna make him sorry now.. He grabs your phone and unlocks it, immediately opening up your camera and recording, “C’mon baby, put on a show for me.” He purrs out, making sure his tattooed hand is in the frame resting right over your bouncing ass.

You moan louder and lift yourself up enough to stabilize yourself before you start fucking yourself on his cock just how he likes it. “There you go, atta girl.” Jungkook lands repeated hits on your red ass cheek, licking his lips when he sees his hand print linger. “Whose pussy this belong to baby? Hm?”

“You,” a tiny whimper follows, “ ‘s your pussy baby.” You moan back as you rub your clit faster, “Fuck right there,” you push back and circle your hips on his cock like you’re trying to spell coconut. He moans loud as your pussy massages his cock just right, he nearly forgets he’s recording in the first place.

Jungkook ends the video there with a middle finger towards the end before he sends it to Hyunjin and tosses your phone aside, “C’mere.” He growls out and grabs your hips before he starts fucking into you harder and faster.

The headboard slams into the wall repeatedly, the sound of skin slapping grows louder and your moans are borderline screams now. You shudder violently and fall onto the bed face first as your pussy squirts, you lay there twitching and shaking as you come down from your orgasm slowly. Jungkook’s lips fall open in a silent moan as he watches in satisfaction.

He cums a few minutes later, pressing in deep as he groans lowly, “Damn I almost said I love you.” He breathlessly says. You reach behind to smack his arm making him laugh, “What? It’s true.” He shakes with laughter, “Aaaa you’re so cute baby.” Jungkook wipes the sweat off his brow and pulls out slowly, “Damn.” He murmurs, laying down next to you, “You okay?” He pokes your side.

You tiredly roll over and stare at him with a goofy little smile, “I almost said I love you too.” You softly reply.

Jungkook smiles, “y/n…my love, mother of my child,” he begins, “I’m sorry, but can you make me something to eat? You sucked the life out of me and now I’m starving.”

“I fucking take it back you dipshit.” You glare and roll out of bed, “.....What do you want..” You ask after shuffling around the room getting dressed in your robe.

“Ramen? Please and thank you.” Jungkook gives you that little bunny smile that made you fall in love all those years back. Maybe you’re falling all over again…

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

3K notes · View notes

meownotgood · 7 months

Text

inevitable. / gojo satoru x gn!reader, angst & fluff, love confessions; satoru writing practice.

When Satoru comes home, it's another broken promise.

He shows up well past midnight, with his knuckles bruised purple and his palms rubbed raw. His uniform is a filthy tattered mess. His blindfold hangs loosely around his neck. His head hurts more than usual, his jaw aches from the way he's been clenching it.

Every window is dark, all the lights are off. The key to your apartment is under the mat, same as always. He steps in and closes the door behind him as silently as possible, he half-hopes you aren't awake even though that'd ruin the entire purpose to him coming. Sighing, he tries to will himself to relax, but his hands remain shaky as he clicks the lock shut.

"You're home."

The familiar sound of your voice doesn't surprise him — Instead, like an instinct, it makes his shoulders slump, his muscles loosen. A tingle runs across his spine and his heart sparks alight, he's home. He's missed this. Problem is, he doesn't deserve to miss this.

"I'm home." Satoru parrots; hand frozen on the doorknob, he doesn't turn around to look at you because he isn't sure if he should.

"I missed you." You say, ever-so softly. It finds a way to be both the worst and the best thing he's ever heard. Don't say that.

Satoru swallows. "I missed you too."

A few seconds of silence. Your tone's gone level. "Thought you said you weren't coming back."

His hands sting when he closes and opens them. Close, open, they're getting sweaty. He can feel his heart thudding and his breath quickening, his blood boiling. His pulse thrums in his own neck, his throat closes up and he can't even speak. He assumed he wouldn't be coming back too. Yet here he is.

Turning to face you, Satoru balls those same hands up into fists. This is his fault, and he doesn't think he can fix it, there's just no way. But he can't just leave things as they are, what is he supposed to do? For the first time in a long time, he's utterly lost.

"I-"

You interrupt him before he can get a word in.

"I'm glad you're here, Satoru."

He blinks. He's got no idea what to say to that. Not a damn clue.

"You've been crying." You're continuing, your arms fall limp from where they were crossed, "Are you alright? What's going on?"

Yeah, he's sure he looks the part, he was just hoping you wouldn't notice. He bets his eyes are as swollen and red as they feel, with deep dark bags set in underneath.

It's foreign. He's never cried like this. He never cried when he was a kid, he hasn't cried even when he felt at his lowest — but there's something about you that's always brought out the weakness in him. Something about you he couldn't explain, something that has him breaking down the whole way here because the thought of losing you tears his ignorant heart right out of his chest.

Satoru sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. His bottom lip is quivering. Your quiet apartment is getting smaller and smaller around him.

"I'm fine," He hears his own voice and it doesn't sound like himself, "I'm good."

"Stop it. Tell me the truth, Satoru."

Satoru. The way you utter his name hurts him more than anything.

His eyes narrow, he stares at his feet, "Don't worry about me. Please."

"I can't, I can't when you clearly aren't okay."

"Come on," He grumbles at that, the bridge of his nose crinkles, a defeated expression takes over his features, "I'm fine, I already told you."

"Tsk," You take a step forward, "You're such an idiot sometimes, I think you're just-"

"Why aren't you mad? Tell me."

You stop, falling silent. Satoru realizes he'd spoken a little louder than he wanted to. His head dips down. His brows furrow like he's the angry one, "You tell me, because I don't get it. I don't understand what the hell you're thinking, I never have. God, you- you should be pissed!"

"Satoru-"

He presses his fingers to his temple, he's gritting his teeth, "But you aren't, not even close, you don't even care. I don't- you're so kind and I- Why? Why won't you tell me to leave?"

He's being childish, immature. He knows, but he can't help it. He can't wrap his head around why you're still here. Why you've stayed, why you've greeted him at the door like everything is normal after he told you he was never coming back — This'll be the last time I see you. It's for your own good. — He's tried everything to push you away, and yet none of it has worked. Nothing.

Satoru could never be close to you. He wants to be, God does he want to be. But he can't, you can't. You'll be targeted. You'll wind up assassinated. The strongest sorcerer has always been the strongest when he's all alone. Satoru fears the day will come where he won't be strong enough to protect you. You make him far too soft, and this world is too cruel and too dark to allow any glimmers of light.

And you understand that, don't you?

His eyes flicker up, he scans your face, your expression unreadable. You offer him the faintest smile, and you answer.

"For the same reason you haven't left yet."

You've always understood. From the moment you met him, you've known.

You're aware of the consequences. You know what could happen to you. And you know damn well Satoru could disappear at any time; it's part of who he is, what he has to become. You've stuck by his side at every opportunity regardless. He's important to you. He's good at his core. To you, Gojo Satoru is the most pleasant dream you've ever had, an unreachable star — The universe he lives in is so far from your own and yet no-one has ever understood you more than him.

You're the one who knows all of his secrets, and him with yours. Sometimes he thinks you know him better than he knows himself. Even when he leaves, even when he's gone off on another mission all alone with no sign of when he'll return, you'll be here, waiting for him. You'll hug him close and tell him you missed him, every single time.

This is his doing. All of this is. He's an idiot.

Satoru keeps his gaze focused on you: wavering skies of blue, cloudy with hesitance. You step in closer, your voice is much quieter.

"I'm not mad at you." You reach forward, taking his hands, squeezing them. His breath can't help but hitch. He's been waiting for your touch for a long time now. You don't comment on the bruises, you're used to them. "I care about you too much for that, you know?"

"I know," Satoru rubs your knuckles with his thumbs, he lets go of a long, trembling breath, "I know."

"Stay for the night." You ask, and between his gnawing ache to have you close and the way you lace your fingers with his own, grasping tenderly — his battered hands in your delicate hold — he doesn't think there's ever a world where he could say no. "Just for tonight, okay? We can figure things out."

"I'll stay. I'm sorry," He blinks away the water welling up beneath his lashes, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, I- I'm just so sorry."

"It's okay. I've already forgiven you."

"I won't leave like that again. I promise. I promise you."

Your palm finds his cheek. He leans into your touch, he wants to collapse.

You were the one who showed him peace could be more than only fleeting, but he's the one who was foolish enough to get so attached to you. And right now, he's the one who just can't manage to let you go.

This same vicious cycle is what he's fallen into, he comes back to your arms only to leave again and again. It'll keep going like this until you get sick of it all, or until something takes you away from him. He hates it. He's always hated it more than anything, hasn't he? He wants to savor your presence for as long as it'll last, he doesn't want to keep leaving like this, he doesn't want to lose you.

The reason why you're still here is the same as his own. It's why he can't leave you, why he could never leave you, no matter how hard he tries. It's because —

"I love you."

The huge weight he'd been carrying for God knows how long finally shifts off of his shoulders — like releasing a held breath, like pieces lining into place. His vision blurs at the edges, he doesn't understand the gravity of what he's just said until seconds later, when it's too late to go back and when you're staring at him wide-eyed, caught in surprise.

There's a look behind his eyes that's hopeful, soft, scared. He's shaking again, from his shoulders to his hands. "Shit, I really shouldn't say that, huh?"

Satoru hides those hints of nervousness behind his usual smile, he huffs a half-hearted sort of laugh, he brings a palm to his face and covers it, "Ahhhh, you're right, I'm an idiot. You're… important to me, that's all I'm trying to say. I still don't know what I'm going to do, I can't risk putting you in danger. But I'll figure something out. I owe it to you."

For a couple of moments, you don't speak. Satoru listens to the pound of his heart in his ears. He'd break the silence if he knew of anything better to say. Then, you close the distance between him and yourself, and he notices, but he isn't about to stop you.

You're reaching for him and he's letting it happen; you embrace him, wrap your arms around him tight, and he's sinking, falling. Finally. He's needed this so much.

Hesitantly at first, he allows himself to hold you back, and then hard, he embraces you almost desperately. Curled over your form, he rests his forehead on your shoulder, he squeezes you firm, he melts into your arms. He's all around you, he relaxes fully for the first time in ages and allows his muscles to grow weary, heavy.

You're warm. Your palm rubs his back in gentle circles, Satoru draws in a slow and shuddering breath between pouty lips like a child.

Your words are everything he's always wanted to hear.

"I love you too."

He can't help but smile, can't help but feel the apples of his cheeks growing warm, "Yeah? I love you more."

You smirk even though he can't see it, your palm reaches the back of his head and you press him closer, so close he thinks he might implode.

A pause. "I'm scared, to tell you the truth." He confesses, "I don't want to hurt you."

His chest is aching, just at the thought. Your fingers meet his soft hair and he sighs deeply, he holds you like he'd fall to pieces if he let go.

You mutter quietly, earnestly, "You could never hurt me. Not ever."

Satoru grips the back of your shirt hard. "Could curse you pretty bad, though."

Your voice curls right into his ear. "Think so?"

Slowly, deliberately, you start to pull away from him, just enough to lock his gaze with yours and hold his chin between two of your fingers. He's in a trance as you drag him closer, your head tilting, free hand teasing when it ghosts the back of his neck.

Perhaps he knew he'd give in to you from the very beginning. Maybe he's stupid for this. He's always been such a fool for you. But he'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and by his side, he's already decided. He'll love you as much as someone who never could possibly can. Whatever it takes.

"If you're gonna curse me-" You're leaning in, he follows your pull; his eyelids flutter closed, his head is so dizzy he feels light, his nerves throb with anticipation. His plush lips brush yours and you speak right up against them.

"... At least make it count."

And when you kiss, Satoru's finally reached right into heaven.

his character is hard to write. but I'm learning... I think

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff

1K notes · View notes

lizzieonka · 10 months

Text

Yet Another Tumblr Guide for New Users

Change your avatar, header, and put something on your description right now. Do not interact with any post before you do this. Otherwise, you’ll just be mistaken for a bot and blocked.

Post/Reblog stuff before following people. Even with your blog all customized, some people will still block you if they see your blog is empty.

Reblog, reblog, and reblog! Reblogs are not like quote retweets. Reblogging stuff is how Tumblr works, and reblogs actually help OP gain traction.

“Likes are useless” —You’ve probably seen a lot of guides preaching this, but actually that’s only some people’s opinions. People prefer reblogs over likes because it helps OP get more views/interaction on their posts, while likes are just—well, “likes.” It tells OP that you liked their post. Nothing bad with that. Some people also use likes to bookmark posts they want to find later. But if you want to support an artist, consider reblogging their work as well if you are able. If you don’t have enough spoons to use for reblogging, then that’s okay too.

Tags are for categorization, not clout. If you post about one thing but then tag it with irrelevant tags (especially those that happened to be trending), then people can report your post as spam. Here's a Guide to Tagging (edit coz I forgot to link this when I first published this post)

If you see something you don’t like, then just block the user. No need to rally people to cancel said user. Just block and move on.

Use Tag and Post Filters. It’s your responsibility to curate what you see on this site, so add as much filters as you want.

Spell out words. Do not say oomfs or moots. Say “just kidding” instead of “/jk”. Don’t censor triggering words like r@pe. For someone’s filters to work, the content being filtered has to be spelled right. By censoring your words, you’re putting people more at risk to seeing them. More about this on my Tumblr Posting Guide and Best Practices.

Turn off Best Stuff First. We hate algorithms here. Everyone views their dashboard in reverse chronological order.

Tumblr has post limits, but you rarely have to worry about them. I’m too lazy to grab links from the official docs for reference, so take this post limit screenshot (courtesy of XKit) instead. [Ignore the values under Remaining]

Edit: Okay, this is very important for Twitter refugees so I just had to include it:

When your post is reblogged by someone else, then you can no longer completely delete your post.

Unlike quote retweets, reblogs are forever. You may delete the original post, but you won’t be able to delete the reblogs of that post. They will continue to exist on other people’s blogs.

The best you can do to limit views on a post you want gone is to disable reblogs on said post before deleting it. That way, even if the reblogged version still exists, there’ll be no way to spread them further. Just make sure that you won’t regret it later.

Here’s an example of me doing exactly this on a post of mine that got over 10k notes.

#twitter #reddit #twitter refugee #tumblr refugee #reddit migration #twitter migration #tumblr #ID in alt #tumblr guide #miyamiwu.tut #miyamiwu.src

2K notes · View notes

m3talmunson · 1 year

Text

It started with babes. Babes is completely platonic right? Nothing out of the ordinary there. Eddie was known for being over dramatic, why would nicknames -or in this case, pet names- be any different?

Babes wasn't even that over the top, so why was Steve blushing like a school girl after it was said in passing?

Steve definitely knew why, although, he was going to pretend he didn't. But he knew, about himself, about Eddie. A couple months after spring break '86 Steve had a very enlightening talk with Robin about his feelings. Towards Munson. Those completely and totally platonic feelings.

And a couple weeks later, as though Eddie was so in tune with Steve's discovery, Eddie came out to Steve at a campfire with Robin and Nance. Those two had wandered off, Eddie made some comment about "Good for Robs," before realizing his mistake. That was, until Steve said "Yeah, good for Robs," and Eddie just had to ask.

"You know about her? Y'know..."

"What? Eddie? Of course! She's my best friend."

"And you're ok with it?" Eddie was kind of shocked. Great 'King' Steve wasn't going to sick the dogs on Hawkins Local Lesbian? And it seemed like he had known longer than Eddie?

"Yeah, when you survive hell and back enough it's pretty hard to hate anyone for being gay." Steve left off the part where he was also into guys. He knew Eddie was ok with that, clearly ok with Robin, but Eddie might not be ok with being the guy Steve was into.

"Oh. Well," Eddie didn't know if it was the couple beers he had downed, or his newfound safety with this big ol' group of misfits, but he was comfortable asking Steve, "What if I was like Robin too?"

"Are you?" Steve asked. He wasn't going to get his hopes up over hypotheticals, but he could admit he had feelings for the older boy. He wasn't sure what feelings to be honest,but he was figuring that out as he went. He just knew they were more than platonic.

"Well, technically I'm the opposite of Robin, y'know. Not attracted to women. But yeah, I am." Eddie stared into the camp fire, torn between hoping that it would eat him alive, or that it would simply stare back.

"Okay, thanks for trusting me." Steve responded, plain as day.

He had asked Robin, if someone were to come out to him (granted they were not just drugged by Russians), what would she have wanted to hear. And he finally got the chance to use it, seeing the way Eddie's shoulders dropped in relief.

"So you're like actually ok with it?"

"Like I said, been to hell and back with you, who you love doesn't mean a thing over that."

" Yeah," Eddie said,"But most straight guys don't like it when gay guys flirt relentlessly with them."

"We'll keep that one between us then, won't we?" Steve wasn't entirely ready to correct Eddie on the straight thing, so he just didn't acknowledge that part. He chose to ignore the blush rise on his face, blaming it internally on the heat of the fire.

He also tried to ignore that at that point, the nicknames picked up.

It started with babes. Then baby, which made Steve's brain flutter. Then sweetheart. Eddie only used that one when he wanted something, and yet Steve still loved it. Stevie was one of the fan favorites. Not really a pet name, but used just as lovingly as one. Sometimes Eddie held out the end, in a sing-song voice. Made Steve weak in the knees. Eddie knew what he was doing.

It was babe that made Steve do something about it. Eddie used sweetheart, baby, Stevie, around everyone. In front of the kids, on his various trips to Family Video (whether to buy or annoy, who knew). But babe. Babe was just for Steve and Steve alone.

So of course, the only logical order of events was for Steve to start using them back.

It started with babe, the obvious choice. Fight fire with fire, or whatever. The meaningless pet names ended with babes too.

Because after Eddie kissed Steve to shut him up, they suddenly had meaning.

#short n sweet cause ive been gone for too long #in more personal news! just got cast as one of my lifelong dream roles in theatre yesterday!#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steddie blurb #steddie drabble #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #pet names

4K notes · View notes

teamblck · 2 months

Text

the 141 as dads

captain john price-

• this man is would be such a good dad

• we all know for a fact this man has a breeding kink so i see him having like 3/4 kids

• waking up early in the morning and eating bowls of cereal watching old cartoon re runs with them

• would start smoking outside or exclusively in his office because he doesn’t want that around them

• type of dad in his retirement to coach his kids football/soccer team

• the best for laying the child on his chest, humming as they fall asleep

• would be super interested in what his children’s interest are (this goes for all of them but i’m putting it here)

• takes his kids on camping and fishings trips

• loves to play hide-n-seek with his kids

• his kids would mock his actions and stand in front of the tv with his hands behind his back, and when they are napping on the couch his kid would also start snoring cause we all know this man snores LOUDLY

• type of dad whenever his kids mention they like eating something once he buys like 5 boxes of it

• would cry they say their first word no matter what is is

• loves taking them to the park

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick-

• okay literally the best dad ever

• i could see him with like 2 or 3 kids

• MATCHING OUTFITS

• if he had girls he would 1000% learn all kind of cute braid styles for them

• when he found out his spouse was pregnant he would be shocked but happy and would immediately buy 100 what to expect when you’re expecting books

• would hate when he kids got into trouble cause he would hate laying the law down but would sit them down and talk every calm but firm

• then would go into another room and be like 🥺

• would NEVER get angry with his kids

• all the mothers would flirt with him in the pickup line at school and he just ignores it

• he thinks his children deserve the entire world

• his kids call Price grandpa

• will blow raspberries on their stomachs until they they can’t stop giggling

• takes 1000 photos of his kids doing anything and then spam sends them to his spouse

• got so nauseous the first time he changed a diaper

• family halloween outfits

john ‘soap’ mactavish-

• such a fun dad

•pillow forts

• ice cream for breakfast

• if he had a son/sons he would cut their hair in the mohawk style as well

• would want so many children omg

• he comes from a big family so i think he would want one as well

• but if his spouse didn’t want a big family he would be okay with it

• if you’ve watched modern family he would be like phil dunphy

• would put his kids on those kid leashes whenever they go anywhere

• i feel like one thing he would struggle with is saying no to his children

• would always help them with their math and science homework

• type of dad to do push ups while his kids are sitting in his back and they are all giggling

• the proudest dad ever! is at every dance recital or sports game or talent show and if he can’t be (because of his job) he would ask all about it when he got home and even if they did poorly he would still tell them how proud of them he is and go her ice cream

•TICKLE FIGHTS

• it would also tear him up if couldn’t be there during a special event for his children

• i also feel like he would cry at major life milestones

• if his children/kid are into sports all you can hear at games is him yelling across the field

simon ‘ghost’ riley-

• GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON

• just imagine him with a pink baby holder strapped to his chest

• he would be such a good father omg

• with his past with his father he would be super scared at first but then as he’s holding this tiny infant he would get angry (not at child obviously) cause how could anyone treat their child the way his father treated him?

• would be super protective of his children (i mean all of them would tbh)

• as cute as it is for the baby to wear little skull head clothing, i don’t think he would want his children knowing ‘Ghost’.

• i think one thing he would struggle with is when his kids throw tantrums when it’s over something ridiculous like he wouldn’t let them pull their siblings hair or eat something gross off the floor and he doesn’t know how to deal with them. he doesn’t want to get to firm and scare them and he doesn’t want to give into such ridiculous things so he would kinda back away and look at you for help

• his kids would 1000% get his accent

• loves to lift them up with his arms, whooshing them around like they are a super hero

• has tea parties with his kids and their stuffed animals on a regular basis

• such a big softie for his children/child are you kidding me

• his children/kid use him as like a jungle gym and are usually hanging off his arms

• would never tell them what he does for work and when they ask he would just say ‘work’

i would give any of these men children or all of them

let me know if you have any feedback!!

730 notes · View notes

elliesmainhoe · 4 months

Text

Ellie Williams Headcanons : RichOlderWoman!Ellie

I got this as an ask but Tumblr ate it 😱 so here you go anon.

Okay Okay. So, first things first, from day one Ellie was always adamant when saying that you were NEVER her sugar baby.

you were just her controversially young girlfriend who she liked to spoil and have perched on her lap during boring business meetings.

speaking of SPOLING-

she regularly takes you on trips to expensive high end malls which exclusively house designer brands and WILL buy you anything you look at as long as you hold her hand while you both walk around.

but CEO Ellie Williams is a busy woman, and doesn't always have a long enough interval between meetings to keep you company.

in those cases she simply kisses you cheek and forehead before handing you a small black card and saying "give me a show of everything you buy when I get home, hm?"

arthritis may be fast approaching but those hips do not slow

(jk she's only in her late thirties, and you know for a fact the extent of working out she does keeps her joints in check)

in fact she gives the best strap game. the experience and the variety of expensive toys and the regular gym routine = 🤩

always her arm candy

every once in a while after lovingly gazing at you for a little too long, looking at your soft supple thighs, pink lipstick coated lips and shiny hair cascading beautifully from your head. she feels insecure?

it's an odd feeling.

an unfamiliar feeling.

but Ellie is mature, it's one thing you admire about herand she knows that a problem won't be resolved unless she talks to you.

so she does, and as soon as the voices of concern fall from her lips, you soon put those thoughts to rest <333

she does the same to you!!

it was a normal day, you woke up to a cup of coffee on your bed side, a small pastry from your favorite bakery, a credit card and a note which read:

"Good Morning my love, I completely forgot about the early morning meeting I had today. I got you some pastries as an apology, I'm sorry we can't go shopping today like we planned, but here's my card and the driver can take you to the mall.

Love you pretty girl, Ellie x"

•••••••

it was a while later when Joel, your driver, pulled up outside the office building, you thanked him swiftly and walked quickly towards the automatic doors of 'Williams Enterprises Headquarters', expensive jimmy choo heels clicking against the concrete entrance. The security guard, Bob, nodded his head in greeting and you returned the gesture with a smile.

The receptionist was... different. the usual blonde haired girl was replaced by a middle aged woman with greying hair, deep set wrinkles imbedded in pale skin. "Hi what can I do for you today?" a high squeaky voice came from her mouth. a tone of voice you knew from years of retail work and customer service, you winced instinctively.

"Hi, I'm here to see Miss Williams." you reply, fingers tightening on the strap of the mulberry purse Ellie had gifted you for your 2nd anniversary a few months passed.

"hmmm. I don't see you on the schedule, do you have an appointment?" she smiled, the fakeness clear and tone of voice irritated.

"oh, uhm no. I'm her girlfriend" silence. the fake smile plastered on the woman's face falling, as she looked over behind her to a colleague who nodded in confirmation of the story you had given her.

"sorry if this is intrusive kid, but aren't you a little young." she spoke, and chewed a piece of him you hadn't noticed before rather obnoxiously. "I mean I can tell you're..." her eyes scanned your frame "reaping the benefits."

"I mean, god I can't blame you" she continued " if I had the looks and youth I once did I would happily suck off anyone for chanel. Now tell me doll, how much surgery has Mrs. Williams paid for you to have done, surely those tits aren't real?"

you quickly brushed past her, ignoring the intrusive questions and stepped into the elevator, pressing the floor Ellie's office resided on.

the site of you immediately brought a smile onto your girlfriend's previously pinched and visibly frustrated face. "Hi pretty girl,", she pushed out her chair from behind her desk, patting her thigh for you to sit on. "Hi Els." the frown you couldn't quite erase from your features furrowed your brows in a way Ellie couldn't ignore.

"What happened baby? you upset with me for leaving earlier?" she asked softly, adjusting you on her lap and kissing your temple. "nah it's not that- I just-" your hands instinctively began playing with Ellie's fingers, twisting the ring on her index finger slowly. "the new lady, in reception. she said something-" you sighed. "and I just can't shake it."

"do you think that, I'm a burden? that the fact I'm so young means I'm leeching off you? I don't want to do that Ells. I like dresses and bags and makeup and you give that to me because you can, but I just- if you ever don't want to buy me stuff, please tell me Ells, I don't want to take and take and take when you don't want me to."

a soft chuckle shook Ellie's chest "pretty girl, look at me. The reason I work is to spoil you, the reason I go to these bullshit meetings with these stuckup assholes is to give you and me a life where money is no object. I love you sweet girl" she kissed your plush lips, the tension seemingly draining out of your body at the touch.

"now, which receptionist said that?"

•••••••••

A/N: cute little hc and drabble to get me back into the swing of things.

1K notes · View notes

holllandtrash · 9 months

Text

gone | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 3 to fragile line)

I just know You're not gone You can't be gone

The 2023 season is painful, its challenging and Daniel is still very much in your life in all the ways he shouldn't be.

word count: 9.9k (i dont even know how) warnings/tags: angst, heartbreak, all the painful stuff

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

You exhaled a breath that made your entire body shake, “You know what, Daniel.”

Of course he did. For the last few months, he was experiencing the exact same things you were. The uncertainty, the tension, the sleepless nights, god you were so tired.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be you and him. You were supposed to be a team.

So much went wrong, too much. Daniel stood in front of you now as you asked yourself if you were too far gone.

And you both knew the answer to that one.

That first race back in Hungary…you were a mess. You probably would have been a little bit more put together had Oliver not pointed out the lineup for the driver’s press conference.

“You’re kidding,” your jaw dropped, staring at the list. “Who’s smart idea was it to put myself and Daniel together?”

“This is Formula 1,” Oliver sounded apologetic, he did feel bad about the situation. “The FIA doesn’t care if he’s your ex.”

The FIA didn’t care but the entire world watching did. Speculations on what would happen, where you would sit, what would be asked flooded social media.

When you showed up on Thursday, Lando patted your back and told you to breathe.

“Easier said than done, Lando. I don’t see you being forced to sit with your ex.”

He chuckled at that because you had a point. “Look, I love Danny, but don’t let him get to you, alright?”

Originally, Lando did try to switch the sessions. He talked to Zak, PR, everyone, just because he knew how much you were dreading it. But alas, it was you who was now standing outside the media room, leaning against the wall as you waited to go in and get these next twenty minutes over and done with.

Your plan was to just say as little as possible to everyone. You were banking on the fact that the attention would be solely on Daniel and his return, and that was made clear when he walked into the hallway, getting warm greetings from other drivers and those standing nearby.

He had absolutely no reason to stand next to you, not when there were about ten other people who would have been dying for a few seconds of his time.

Daniel cleared his throat, hands behind his back as he leaned against the wall as well.

You counted six seconds before he opened his mouth, speaking to you for the first time since the awards dinner months ago.

“Not even a hello?” He asked, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised that you were completely avoiding looking in his direction. You ignored him and Daniel laughed to himself at your lack of response.

The door opened again and you took a breath of relief when you realised you were about to be called into the press conference. Just get it over and done with.

Daniel didn’t have the same priorities and spoke up again, “I just want to know-”

You promptly cut him off, you had to. “Look I think it would be best if we just-” god this hurt, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Let’s just not talk, okay?”

You pushed yourself away from the wall when one of the media assistants handed each of you a mic and gave you the thumbs up that it was time for the five of you to head out onto the couch. Daniel quickly followed behind you, voice low enough that you could hear but it was unlikely anyone else could.

“So that’s it? You have nothing to say to me?” He asked. “For the person who got you into Formula 1?”

You as well spoke in a harsh whisper, “You may have fast tracked my career but I could have made it to Formula 1 without your help.”

You liked to believe that was true. Was it? You’d never know now.

“But you did take my help,” he pointed out, a groan slipping past his lips as he sat down on the couch. You made sure to distance yourself from him, leaving room for Carlos to sit between you. Even still, Daniel wasn’t done. “You took my help, my resources and then my seat.”

“And what did you do?” You hissed, arms crossed over your chest as different media personnel started to slowly trickle into the room, the lucky ones who claimed the first row were probably close enough to hear you and Daniel.

“Pardon?” He turned his head towards you. Carlos instinctively leaned further back, not wanting to be in the middle of this conversation, but watching and listening intently, as were the other drivers.

“What did you do, hmm?” You repeated, eyes scanning the growing crowd before you snapped your head in his direction.

For a moment, this feud didn’t matter. Your heart skipped a beat, like it had the hundreds, thousands, of other times when his eyes met yours. The same brown eyes that for months you allowed yourself to get lost in. One look from him and everything around you faded to black. Nothing else seemed important when Daniel was looking at you, giving you his undivided attention.

But this moment wasn’t like all of those other ones.

You snapped out of it, returning to your original thought, much to Carlos’ dismay as he thought you guys were done and had started to relax in between you.

“We both replaced a driver before their contract was up, Daniel.” You stated, wanting to point out the hypocrisy in his actions. “You are no better than me. We did the exact same thing.”

“It wasn’t the same and you know it,” Daniel retorted, not skipping a beat. He had those words lined up for weeks now, waiting for the chance to say them because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to point out the similarities in your actions.

But Daniel was right. It wasn’t the same. The biggest difference being, you were in love with Daniel when you signed that contract with McLaren, and he was in love with you.

It wasn’t just a driver screwing over another driver. You drove a wedge between the two of you.

You had the thought to stand up and walk out. The press conference hadn’t officially started yet, the last few reporters were just finding their seats. You could say you’re ill, something came up, really any excuse to get out of here and away from Daniel’s harsh stare.

Don’t let him get to you. Lando’s reminder floated to the front of your mind and you forced yourself to just sit back and look at the small crowd instead. It was clear to everyone who even glanced your way that you did not want to be sitting there, but thankfully Tom Clarkson got the session up and running.

Of course Daniel was the star. Tom had questions about his return, about his short break, about being back with familiar faces. Daniel answered them all with such ease, the familiar heartwarming grin on his face that you couldn’t bear to look at.

You zoned out, really, arms crossed in front of your chest as you tried to ignore the double standards coming from your right. You doubted Daniel was going to get as much hate online as you had gotten. No one was asking him how he felt about taking another’s seat, everyone was just happy he was back.

“And Y/N, onto you-”

You snapped your head up, plastering on your best smile.

“Last year you finished quite high in Hungary in Formula 2 and after your best finish out in Silverstone, you must feel quite confident going into this weekend?”

You lifted the mic up to your lips, “Yes and no, you know the car’s upgrades are proving to be paying off and we’re hoping to use them to our advantage this weekend but one can never be too confident. As a team we’ll be fighting to be at the front again but in the back of our minds we know that everyone else is doing the same.”

Tom nodded, content with that answer, “And is it nice to have another familiar face on the grid? Daniel acted as a sort of mentor for you during your time in F2, did he not?”

You tensed up and next to you, Carlos felt it. He nudged his arm against yours, a subtle move of encouragement. Carlos, like most of the drivers, knew how uncomfortable the situation was for all involved.

But you couldn’t process the kind gesture. Not when you could practically feel Daniel staring at you, burning holes into the side of your head as he waited for your response.

“I think, yeah a lot of people are probably happy to welcome him back,” you spoke quietly, and not at all convincing. But hey, at least you removed yourself from the answer and gave a general response. One that no one could flip on you.

Tom tried, though, “But personally, what’s going through your mind right now?”

You had so much media training. You knew the proper answer would be something along the lines of how Daniel is a great asset to the sport and how the grid is better with him. Nothing personal, but just facts the general public could agree with. You knew what to say.

But you scoffed instead, “Why aren’t you asking the other drivers how they feel?”

Max spoke up from the opposite end of the couch, “It’s great having Daniel back.”

You shot him a quick, yet thankful, smile. While he was good friends with Daniel, anyone on that couch could see how that question was only given to you because of your history with the Australian. And this press conference was supposed to be about motorsport, about the racing coming up.

You stayed quiet for the rest of it and as soon as it ended you bolted out of that room.

Unfortunately, so did Daniel.

He caught up to you with ease, “Hold up, Y/N, I want to talk.”

Daniel reached for your arm and you pulled it out of his grasp as you turned around to face him, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say. No, you said plenty last year. What was it, exactly? Something about how taking your seat before your contract was even up was the worst thing I could have possibly done? I’m not going to sit there and listen to everyone praise you for coming back when you dragged my name through the dirt for the exact same fucking move. I’m not going to listen to a single thing you have to say, knowing you’re the biggest hypocrite this sport has ever seen but won’t admit it.”

Daniel huffed out a short breath. For a second, you thought he was going to apologise, but that thought quickly left when his forehead creased, his jaw tightening, “Sometimes you gotta burn a few bridges in this industry, but you figured that out all on your own, didn’t you?”

You shook your head, taking a few more steps backwards as heavy sarcasm dripped from your tongue, “Nice to have you back, Daniel.”

It really was anything but nice. Not when that entire race was focused on how you and Daniel interacted in the paddock- or the lack of interaction was probably a better way to phrase it. Everyone knew you two to be connected at the hip. Now you were turning around and walking in the opposite direction to avoid him.

The next race was worse. Spa. It was a challenging track already, you knew this going into the practice sessions. You were prepared for a difficult weekend.

What you weren’t prepared for was leaving the garage towards the end of Q1 to set a lap time, only to be blocked by Daniel before you could cross the finish line. He slowed down before the straight, like many drivers did before giving it all they had on their way to start a flying lap.

But Daniel didn’t speed up like you expected him to. He kept you behind him for as long as he could before shifting gears and taking off. When it was your turn to cross the line and get your time started, you heard the call come in from the garage.

“Times up,” your engineer, Ronnie, said through the radio. “You didn’t cross the line in time.”

Once that timer hit 0, no one was allowed to start a new lap. Every other driver made it across in time, but Daniel’s little move kept you from throwing your hat into the ring for Q2.

You embarrassingly made your way back around the track, pulling into the pit lane to park in the garage. It wasn’t long before other drivers followed, but they had all set lap times. Climbing out of the car, you noticed that Daniel didn’t make it through either.

Serves him right, you thought.

God, you wanted to give him a piece of your mind.

Right on time, you watched on the screen as Daniel dove into the pit lane. You ignored the calls from Ronnie and Oliver, not a single thought in your mind except to ask Daniel what his problem was.

Oliver knew what you were doing as soon as you stepped out of the garage. You ripped your helmet off and shoved it into his hands as he hurried to walk at your pace. Your eyes were set on the AlphaTauri garage just up ahead and you could hear Oliver warning you, telling you to just turn around and go back to McLaren but the second you saw Daniel get out of his car, you snapped.

“What the hell was that?” You asked, eyeing him up from where he stood at the garage opening.

Daniel wasn’t the least bit surprised to see you, but he did stand up straighter, already anticipating whatever you had to say to him.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” Your insult did little to offend him.

“It's not my fault you left the garage late,” Daniel shrugged, taking no responsibility for your inability to set a lap time.

“It’s completely your fault for slowing down more than necessary.”

“I didn’t want to run into traffic.”

“You fucked up my qualifying, Daniel.”

You felt Oliver’s hand on your shoulder. He wasn’t trying to pull you away, but the touch was to get your attention. Aside from AlphaTauri crew members watching this interaction, there was also a camera pointed directly at the two of you, streaming live to F1TV and whatever else broadcast that chose to air it.

Daniel wasn’t as concerned about his media appearance, stepping forward the slightest bit so you were only inches apart.

“If I were you, sweets, I wouldn’t be blaming your problems on the person who got you into this sport.”

You were so close to losing it on him for that comment. You probably would have, had he not thrown in his old nickname for you. Only it wasn’t sweet anymore. There was a distaste on his tongue as he said it, you heard it. He only said it to throw you off, to remind you that he no longer cared for you the way he used to. He was using it against you now.

Daniel saw the way you froze, completely losing your train of thought and he used it to his advantage to walk away from this conversation. He was happy to get the last word in and all you could do was drop your head and walk as close to Oliver as humanly possible as you made your way back to McLaren.

The altercation was heavily split down the middle by all who watched. Some people agreed that Daniel slowed down purposely to keep you from crossing the line in time to start a lap. They also agreed that he should have owned up and apologised for it, saying that it wasn’t in his character to leave another driver so defeated after something that was clearly his fault.

Other people agreed that it was your fault for leaving the garage too late, taking Daniel’s side. They said that it wasn’t very mature of you to confront him like that, or to swear at him. It only added to the conversation of how women weren’t ready to have a place in Formula 1.

Your PR manager advised you to put out a statement about it, an apology. You ignored her advice. In your opinion, the only person who had to apologise was Daniel.

Of course he didn’t, though.

Which meant you didn’t apologise when after the summer, In Zandvoort, you braked a little early when Daniel was behind you. You played it off saying you anticipated the turn too early. Daniel happily complained about you in the media pen when he was forced into the grass and then ultimately the barrier, forcing his race to end early. Social media blew up, like usual, feeding into this childish feud.

That’s how it went for most all, of the races. It wasn’t as though you were purposely trying to ruin his weekends, nor was it his goal to ruin yours, but if you happened to be alongside each other during the race or near each other during qualifying, fans started to put their money on who would target who first.

You didn’t like that that was what your weekends turned into. It was one thing to want to know where the rest of the drivers were in comparison to you, but to be so focused on Daniel was taking it to the extreme.

But you were determined to prove you were a good driver without him, that you were a better driver than him. That taking that McLaren seat wasn’t a mistake and if anything, he should be regretting being so harsh on you. You wanted him to eat his words, and it helped your case that he was definitely struggling in the AlphaTauri.

You finished ahead of him a handful of times. You could try and convince yourself it was skill, but a determining factor really was how horrible Daniel’s car was. That was proven when you were struggling with an upgrade package in Singapore. Some analysts compared the pace of the McLaren to the AlphaTauri, and said that the upgrades were really more like downgrades.

When Daniel finished ahead of you, claiming sixth that race while you crossed the line in 17th, you were furious. You told the team that as a whole, you were much better than that. That the McLarens should not be finishing in the bottom five considering how successful you had been mid season.

Those closest to you knew what you meant. You shouldn’t be finishing behind Daniel.

Things weren’t perfect after that, despite going back to the old set up. You were back to fighting for points, but so was Daniel. And you hated it. You thought you could rely on the McLaren being better than the AlphaTauri, but you forgot to take into account that Daniel truly was one of the best drivers on the grid.

It got to the point where you and Ronnie had a code. If you finished ahead of him, on the radio, Ronnie would say way to go champ. If Daniel finished ahead of you and you weren’t already aware of it during the race, Ronnie would say there’s still work to be done.

Again, those closest to you knew how much it meant to beat Daniel.

You wanted to prove to him, and everyone but you wouldn’t lie to yourself it was mostly him, that you deserved that fucking seat. That you made the right choice by signing the contract, despite it meaning he was without a car for a few months. You shouldn’t have felt guilty for putting yourself first, your career first, if you were doing something great, which you were.

Plus, the better you did, the less of a reason Daniel had to judge you. How could he still be upset with you for taking that McLaren seat when you were doing what he couldn’t? Scoring in the high points, being consistent, for the most part. How could he say that taking his seat was the worst thing you could have done when ultimately, it would boil down to jealousy? Daniel struggled in that McLaren, and he assumed you would too. That wasn’t the case.

And deep down, even if you didn’t want to admit it, there was still a part of you that aimed to make Daniel proud. Even if you couldn’t get back to when you were each other's biggest fans, you hoped that he had moments when he looked at the driver standings and nodded to himself, smiling maybe, because even if you weren't on the best of terms, you were doing what he always knew you could do.

You had no idea, but moments like that did come for Daniel. They were far and few between, rarely caught on camera or at least, never brought to your attention. You had no way of knowing Daniel was leaving the AlphaTauri garage, conflicted about how he felt about your accomplishments. You were doing better than him, there was no denying that. He just chose not to admit it.

The only time that season where you knew he was proud was at COTA. One of his favourite races on the calendar.

You qualified well, P3. That hadn’t happened since Silverstone. The race itself didn’t produce anything too horrible, aside from a few drivers at the back of the grid collided early on and unfortunately Daniel was one of them, being forced to retire.

You, though, you were flying. Your biggest competition was Lando who had started P2, again, similar to Silverstone. For most of the race, your job was to defend Carlos who was aiming for that podium, wanting to take P3 from you.

Typically, you would have boxed first. That’s usually what happened to give Lando the advantage. And with Carlos most likely being on an undercut strategy, you expected the call to come in to box ahead of him.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, you watched Lando pull into the pit lane, giving you the automatic second place position. In your mirrors, you watched as Carlos pulled into the pits as well.

“What’s going on?” You asked Ronnie through the headset.

“Plan F.”

Plan F was one you joked about, but never actually executed. Plan Fight you and Lando called it, but both of you knew that you’d never actually be given the go ahead to fight it out for the podium positions, not wanting to risk damage to the cars.

“Plan F?” You repeated, the shock in your voice evident. That made for good content on F1 Twitter.

“Box this lap,” Ronnie instructed before going on to explain. “Carlos is struggling with his pace, we believe his main goal will be to defend.”

From what you knew, Lewis was behind him, and if Carlos was struggling with his pace he wouldn’t be fighting for a podium, he’d be fighting to keep that fourth place position.

Which meant you and Lando were also free to fight.

Pitting for new tyres dropped you back a bit, but it didn’t take long at all until you were right on Lando’s tail again. You stayed there for the majority of the last half of the race, the gap wavering anywhere between half of a second to three seconds behind.

You tried to pass, truly. But Lando’s defensive game had always been strong. You looked for the opportunities in the corners, along the straights, but it wasn’t until the third to last lap did the chance come.

You had closed the gap as much as you could, not needing to worry about whoever was behind you, you figured it was still Carlos. As you approached the back straight, you knew Lando was expecting you to dart to the left in an attempt for an overtake on the inside, you had tried it in five out of the last ten laps and each time you were still left eating his dust.

You veered slightly to the left, giving Lando the impression that was your goal and the second he made the move to defend, you steered the car to the right and gave it everything you had. It was a tricky move, vying for the outside overtake going into the tight corner, but when it seemed to work out, you had the inside line for the following turn and Lando was soon in your mirrors.

He tried to take that position back, but you took advantage of the clear air and set off, determined for your first podium, determined to finish ahead of Lando.

Lando ended up claiming third, crossing the finish line only a second after you did. After a victory lap, where he jokingly flipped you off, the two of you pulled into parc ferme. Immediately, you collapsed into Lando, arms tight around him because not only was this a success for you, but for the team. Both McLaren drivers on the podium for the first time this season.

Through the cheers, you could hear Lando yell something about making history. Whether that was in regards to both of you or the fact that you were the first female to ever podium in F1, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter anyway. You just knew you were proud.

You jumped into the arms of your team next, those standing behind the barrier. Adrenaline was pumping through you, you just wanted to celebrate with everyone. When you eventually took your helmet off, a few tears were streaming down your face and you didn’t even think about the risk of turning into the new George Russell crying meme.

You were shaking as you stood in the cool down room, too amped up to sit. Max had been through this dozens of times before. Nor was this Lando’s first podium either, but you were on top of the world.

The ceremony went by in a blur. As did the post race conference. You really did try to take in each second of it, thankful that Lando was there at your side the entire time. This entire process was new to you and if Lando wasn’t in your ear telling you to breathe, where to go, to enjoy the moment, you would have been a mess.

There was so much that happened following that race, there was no way you could have known what was going on with any of the other drivers. It wasn’t until you got back to your hotel room at the end of the day with instructions to ‘get changed because we’re going out’ from Lando, did you see what you had missed.

It felt like hours since you even looked at your phone. You had called your parents, but you didn’t have much time for anything else. Now that you were sat on the edge of your bed, you were able to scroll through your texts and notifications.

You were able to see the clip you were tagged in way too many times, on way too many platforms.

It was short, but any longer and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You clicked play and watched the video of you crossing the finish line. Lando was following behind, but whatever broadcast this was from didn’t care about his finish. The shot switched to Daniel, from where he stood in the AlphaTauri garage.

Whoever was filming caught his live reaction of you coming second at COTA.

The nod, the faint curl of the corner of his lips because as much as he tried, he couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he watched you take your first podium position in F1, something that he once dreamed for you.

But you not being part of his dreams anymore didn’t mean that he stopped wishing you accomplished yours.

This brought you back to the first video you watched of him a few years back, before you even met him, where he spoke so highly of you. He wanted you to succeed so badly back then and he wanted to be at your side while you did so.

Now here you were, succeeding, but where was Daniel?

Maybe that’s where some of his hostility lied. You didn’t need him, clearly. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

The reality was, you wanted to prove you could do this without him, but you wished you didn’t have to.

You were conflicted, you both were. And it didn’t help that you weren’t speaking civilly to each other because my god a simple conversation would probably do wonders for both of you.

That was Lando’s thought, as he sat down next to you in the booth and handed you the glass of coke, no rum much to his dismay. You didn’t drink during the season, even if you had something to celebrate, Lando knew this. Champagne on the podium was the only exception.

Tonight, though, as you sat in your thoughts and replayed the image in your mind of Daniel smiling up at the screen, you figured that another exception wouldn’t hurt.

You turned down the coke and grabbed his drink instead, downing it in one gulp and instantly regretting it because you were fairly certain it was tequila based and tequila just wasn’t something you ever enjoyed. Lando laughed and handed you the coke to chase it down with.

“You’re letting loose tonight?” He asked, sitting down beside you. His arm stretched across the bench behind your shoulders. He didn’t even try stifling his chuckle as you struggled with the bitter taste left in your mouth.

“I need to,” you answered.

“You deserve to,” he corrected. Lando reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and then a sleek black card. He didn’t say anything to you, nor to the server who came by and knew that by him dropping the card on the table meant he was asking for bottle service.

It wasn’t long before you had a row of shots to split between the two of you and a few others who had crowded the booth, some you knew, some you didn’t. Not that it mattered, you just wanted to drink, you didn’t care who you were with.

Lando being there was a godsend, though. He knew that you were a lightweight and told you that the glass in your hand was a vodka soda when in reality he asked the server for you to just be given water after a few hours of the most carefree drinking he had ever witnessed from you.

The music was blaring, you had gotten up to dance at one point, but you kept finding your way back to the booth. Clubbing wasn’t your thing and Lando, whether he liked it or not, was an anchor for you tonight. He kept you safe, kept you from drowning in the sea of people and alcohol.

He could do a lot that night, but he couldn’t prevent the inevitable storm that was Daniel Ricciardo making an appearance at that Austin night club.

Lando saw him first and turned to you with the intention of suggesting that you both called it a night. But no words came out when he saw the painful look of desire and despair mashed together on your features as you spotted the Australian driver.

You didn’t drink often, but if you did, you would know that feelings are often elevated under the influence. You’d also know that alcohol lowers inhibition, giving you a false sense of security to say what was really on your mind.

“I don’t get it,” you spoke quietly and Lando leaned in closer to hear you over the music blasting from all corners.

“Get what?”

You pulled your gaze off of Daniel before you could accidentally make eye contact and looked at your teammate instead. He seemed concerned for you, he always did when Daniel was involved.

Lando always did what he could to get your mind off Daniel and the past. He was a good friend, a good person to have in your corner but he wasn’t who you wanted there at the end of the day. You had grown to love Lando, not in the way you loved Daniel, though, so you couldn’t deny that you wished it was the Aussie sitting next to you in the booth, celebrating your podium. You hated that you wanted that.

“Do you miss him, still?” Lando prompted, knowing you had lost your train of thought.

When you shook your head, Lando gave you a look that clearly showed he didn’t believe you, but it was true. You didn’t miss Daniel. What you felt was much worse.

“I don’t miss him,” you answered, glancing towards him again. He stood at the bar talking to a girl that you envied because at least she was talking to him. “But I think he’s my missing piece.”

You hadn’t felt whole since the day you and Daniel split. You walked out of his flat but you left a piece of you there, a piece you desperately tried to get back through race weekends and training and distractions but it was no use. It would always belong to Daniel and you feared he had no intention of giving it back. You feared, that no matter how much time had passed, you’d always feel a little incomplete.

You stood up to leave soon after, thanking Lando for the drinks and assuring him you’d send a text when you got back to the hotel.

Lando tried to follow you to the door, wanting to tell you that he would go with you, the concerned friend making another appearance, but before he could get a word out he watched as someone cut him off, also making a direct line towards the door of the club.

It took Lando a second to realise it was Daniel who was walking after you now. Lando just stood there and raised his hand to the back of his neck, asking himself if he had just made a mistake by not stopping Daniel.

When Lando asked the next morning if Daniel spoke to you, you gave him a questionable look, telling him that you didn’t talk to him at all. Lando explained that he had seen Daniel leave the club right after you, but you just shrugged, chalking it up to getting into the uber before Daniel had the chance to catch up to you.

But Lando saw the photos. He, like everyone else, saw images of Daniel climbing into the car right after you. He wasn't the least bit surprised you lied about it.

You didn't want to tell Lando that Daniel had grabbed the side of the car door before you could shut it, pulling it back just enough for him to slide into the backseat next to you. You shuffled over to make room, but you couldn’t get a single word out. All liquid courage vanished and instead your palms were clammy, the car felt stuffy and you couldn’t even look at him.

Daniel as well, didn’t say anything. His legs were spread out slightly, knee hitting yours as his hands were folded together in his lap.

Why did he follow you?

This was the first time in ages you had been alone together, minus the driver.

The hotel was a short drive away, but it felt like ages, the two of you sitting in uncomfortable silence. You weren’t bickering like you often did if you were in the same room, but at this point you’d rather that than whatever this eeriness was.

You thought maybe, maybe, this was your saving grace. Maybe Daniel had followed you out of the club to tell you he was proud of you, to tell you he still loved you, to tell you he was tired of this feud and wanted you back.

But the longer you sat in silence, the more it sank in that that wasn’t the case.

You used to love each other. Now you couldn’t even hold eye contact.

Daniel waited until the driver pulled onto the street of your hotel before saying anything.

“Checo’s gone after this year.”

You turned to him, unsure if you had heard correctly. “What?”

“He’s gone,” Daniel repeated, more confident this time, still not looking at you though. “Marko told me on Friday.”

You had way too much alcohol flowing through your system to be able to process this. Checo’s contract wasn’t supposed to be up until the end of 2024.

But Nyck’s wasn’t supposed to be up in June and Daniel’s wasn’t supposed to be done at McLaren in 2022. These things happened in Formula 1, as unfortunate as it was for the driver getting the boot, these things often happened.

And Daniel…why did he know this information? Why didn’t the rest of the grid know it? Did Checo even know?

You inhaled sharply, “Does this mean-”

“The news is dropping tomorrow morning, but I wanted you to know first,” Daniel cut you off, his forehead creased with tension. His jaw was clenched, like he wasn’t happy to be saying this but felt the need to anyway. “I’m driving for Red Bull next year.”

The first thought that came to mind was he’s done it again. Taking another driver's seat before their contact ended. 2-1 now. He was officially a shittier person than you were and you so badly wanted to rub it in his face.

But you could see now that that was why he told you personally. He didn’t want to wait until you heard the news like everyone else, he didn’t want to give you an opportunity to attack him for this, to make him feel like the bad guy even though that’s how he made you feel this entire season so far.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to bite your tongue.

“Congratulations,” you settled on, quietly but you meant it and you caught him off guard because he truly was expecting some sort of lashing out.

The driver pulled up to the hotel right at that second and you thanked him before stepping out, not giving Daniel a second look, again catching him off guard because you always looked back at him when you were together.

Daniel waited a second. And then a few more before he bolted out of the car and into the hotel. You had made it to the elevator by that point and Daniel had to slide his hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. You watched as he pushed his way in and just like the car ride, said nothing.

You were on your way up to the twelve floor and Daniel waited until you arrived at the level before opening his mouth, waiting till the last second, wanting to cling onto this civil moment with you because who knew when it would come again?

“You’re not mad?” He asked.

The door opened and you had to brace yourself before standing up straight and walking out of the elevator, needing a moment to remember what side of the hall your room was on.

“I’m livid,” you answered, honestly. You were happy for him, but you were also angry about the situation. You didn’t know it was possible to feel both things at once, but in your drunk state, it was extremely possible.

“Livid?” Daniel walked behind you, trying to gauge the rest of this conversation because you didn’t sound livid.

“Enraged,” you said.

“Enraged,” he repeated.

“I want to wring your neck, Daniel,” you said, hearing him chuckle behind you because you didn’t sound the least bit threatening as you fumbled to unlock the hotel room door. The lock kept lighting up red and after your third failed attempt, Daniel took the card from your hand and unlocked it with ease, pushing the door open for you.

You didn’t thank him, instead relying on the wall once you stepped inside to lean against as you pulled your heels off. Daniel followed you inside, standing at a cautious distance until you dropped your shoes because part of him thought that maybe you would throw them at him. You were enraged after all.

You weren’t sure why he was still there. He had told you what he wanted to tell you and he had no reason to still be hanging around.

“What?” You finally asked, now sounding a little more on the annoyed side as you turned to stare at him. “What do you want? Why are you still here?”

“I want to talk.”

“About what?” You scoffed at him. “About the Red Bull contract? Congratulations, Danny. You deserve it. You deserve every fucking seat on this grid apparently.”

There it was.

“I knew you were mad.”

“I said I was mad!” You exclaimed, appalled that he was saying it like he discovered what you had already made perfectly clear. “I’m pissed, Dan. You have such a cult following that no one is going to bat an eye at you taking Checo’s seat, just like no one complained about you taking Nyck’s. Whereas I do it, I get offered the chance of a lifetime, to make history and I’m considered the villain? I didn’t end your contract, Daniel, I just replaced you and for some reason, no one cares about that narrative! They just care about you.”

You were yelling now. Daniel was probably regretting having followed you but it was too late for him to turn and walk out at this point.

“You know what the shitty part is?” You asked, stepping closer to him. Daniel could smell the vodka on your breath. That's how minimal the distance was between you. The last time you were this close you were wanting to rip his head off outside the AlphaTauri garage.

“What?” He raised his eyebrows. Daniel couldn’t even begin to guess where you were going with this.

“This news is going to drop and my name is going to be circulating in the media again. They’re going to compare this, you taking his seat, to me taking yours. I will never be known as the first female signed to McLaren. I will forever be linked to you, no matter what you do in this fucking sport.”

You shook your head at him when he stayed silent. Pulling your eyes off of him, the heaviest exhale passed through your lips and you turned around, wanting this night to end. After you waved your hand in the air you muttered something about how he could see himself out.

But he didn’t go anywhere.

And because he didn’t go anywhere and because you were drunk, you easily thought of more to say.

“You didn’t even like McLaren,” you sighed as you turned back around to face him, leaning against the wall. Your head was spinning. Maybe if you were lucky, this conversation wasn’t actually happening and it was a drunk figment of your imagination.

“No, but I loved you.”

You definitely didn’t imagine him saying that.

“I loved you,” he repeated, the past-tense admittance felt like a stab to your chest. “And I wanted nothing more than to race alongside you without feeling the need to prove something, to be your partner off the grid. I wanted to love you and race at the same time and you ruined that.”

All you could do was shrug your shoulders. You had said everything you needed to say at this point in defence of your contract, “I’m a driver, Dan. The race, the seat, it comes first, everything else second. You of all people know that.”

“We could have had both.”

Both. Love and a spot in Formula 1.

Clearly not.

“Could we have?” You asked, unsure if you even had an answer, but you needed him to really think about it. To think about it if that really was a possibility for the two of you.

Daniel and you held each other's stares for a minute, waiting for the other to say something. You were still waiting, hoping, for him to say he was proud of you, that he still loved you, that it didn’t matter what happened in the past, but it did matter. Daniel was still waiting for a sincere apology, but you had nothing to apologise for. Signing that McLaren contract was the best thing you’d ever done for yourself, despite the strings to Daniel you had now found yourself tangled in, McLaren was where you were supposed to be.

“I’m tired, Dan,” you shook your head and glanced towards your room down the hall. Physically, mentally, you were drained. And you weren’t ready for what was to happen tomorrow when his contract news came to light.

It didn’t even feel like you had gotten a podium a few hours ago. The last thing you wanted to do was celebrate. You just wanted to crawl into bed and forget that Daniel had followed you here.

He didn’t stop you as you walked down the hall. He waited for you to look at him, but again, you were past that. What was a second look going to do at this point? You wiped your makeup off as best as you could and slid under the covers of your bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

And sure enough, the news dropped of his contract, of his new seat, and it wasn’t long before people started comparing it to what you had done the year prior.

The first thing you saw when you woke up that morning, aside from the glass of water that Daniel had put next to your bed, was the news alert on your phone stating that Daniel was to replace Checo for 2024.

The second article you read was about you. Speculating how you would feel about Daniel’s permanent return. The article highlighted the moments of your relationship, starting from the day he signed on to be your mentor to the time in the AlphaTauri garage when you were fighting over the qualifying lap he ruined.

And then there was a photo of you climbing into the car from last night, followed by Daniel getting into the car shortly after.

His name was trending. Your name was trending. Half the people online cared about his return to RBR. The other half wanted to know if you two were getting back together.

No one gave a single shit that you made history yesterday, landing that podium.

You were the first female to score a podium position in Formula 1 and all anyone cared about was your connection to Daniel. Just like when you won the Monaco Grand Prix during F2, all anyone cared about was Daniel’s influence in your racing. When you were signed to McLaren, all anyone cared about was how you were replacing Daniel.

Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.

People didn’t care about your accomplishments. They only wanted to find a way to connect them all to Daniel.

You scrolled through the article and a new one was suggested for you at the bottom of it. Why Y/N Y/L/N Owes Her Career to The Honey Badger.

Instead of reading it, you threw your phone with as much strength as you had down the hall, out of your sight. You heard it hit the floor and slide across the hardwood.

You couldn’t remember the last time you read something positive about yourself without a hint of Daniel’s influence.

This wouldn’t have been as hard of a pill to swallow if he was still in your life the way you wanted him to be. If he really was still at your side, supporting you, cheering you on, you could look past the articles and speculations about how he was the only reason you were in the sport. It wouldn’t matter what people were saying if Daniel was in your ear reminding you of your potential, reminding you that you deserved that F1 seat.

But he wasn’t going to do that, not anymore. What you had was gone and you were left with the bitter memories and an unforgiving path you had to walk alone to prove yourself in this field.

You wanted to prove you didn’t need Daniel, but the entire world was making it their mission to remind you that at one point, you did. Maybe you still did, maybe you didn’t know who you were without him because let’s face it, everything you did on the track still revolved around him.

You cared about where he finished. You went out of your way to outscore him and only him. You didn’t do anything to relieve the tension in the paddock. You were very much playing into the narrative that he was still a key player in your life.

How could the world move on if you hadn’t?

Hearing footsteps make their way towards you, you sat up in bed, already knowing it was Daniel who didn’t leave when he should have.

You weren’t concerned about your appearance, he had seen you in a much worse state. He had better mornings as well, still wearing his clothes from last night, the bags under his eyes gave away the fact that he was about as tired as you were.

He had your phone in his hands, but he didn’t spend much time looking at the article on the screen. Instead, he dropped it to the table next to him and leaned against the doorframe, exhaling a heavy breath.

You didn’t move, content with the distance between you now because you had to be. Despite wanting nothing more than to be with him, you couldn’t have that anymore. Everything had to be at a distance.

Your phone chimed. Once, twice, and then about four more times. You knew it was people telling you about Daniel’s contract, not knowing that you had been given the inside scoop last night.

At one point, you loved being connected to Daniel. Now, it was a burden. It was haunting. Each time someone mentioned him to you, sent you something about him, asked you a question about him, you were reminded that the connection was gone.

Your lips parted and you had to take a quick, self-assuring breath before finally saying what had to be said.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

Your entire body trembled as you spoke, “You know what, Daniel.”

Of course he did. He was as tired as you were. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this and yet here you were, staring at each other knowing that you were both too far gone to ever find your way back.

You thought, maybe, possibly, you could work things out. For a brief moment, when you knew he was proud of you, you thought you saw a silver lining amongst the grey skies. And maybe you did, maybe it was there, but it was way beyond your grasp. You couldn’t reach out and grab it, you could only dream of it.

There was one solution. One that broke you, knowing you were stuck with it. You didn’t want to admit it. You wished you could push it down and keep living the way you had but you just couldn’t do it anymore.

You were tired. This was hopeless. You both needed closure, but he wasn’t going to say anything which meant you had to.

“I’m stuck, Daniel. I’m stuck living in the moments between the day we met and the day I left because those are the moments that meant the most to me and I haven't been ready to let them go. I’ve never wanted to move on but you forced me to. You forced me to become the bad guy, to do this without you, to grow without you, to prove that I don’t need you but I do need you, I’ve always needed you. From day one, I needed you. My first time in the F1 car, I needed you. If I crashed out, I needed you. I always needed you, Daniel, and then after a five minute conversation you decided that I didn’t anymore. You made that decision for me, for us.”

You paused, you took a breath, you weren’t done. Despite being so painfully close to breaking down, you weren’t done.

“And now here I am, finally succeeding, finally making history in this sport, but it doesn’t mean anything because no one cares unless they find a way to connect it to you. I will always be in the shadow of the man I love and for this entire season, I’ve let it happen because it was the only way you’d still be in my life.”

Daniel cleared his throat when he heard that four letter word, standing up a little straighter, “You still love me?”

You glanced down at the duvet wrapped around your hips. It was heavy, suffocating, much like this conversation. “Truthfully, Daniel, I can’t imagine the day I stop.”

Daniel didn’t need to say anything for you to know he no longer felt the same. He had stopped loving you the day you signed the contract with McLaren. He may have been proud of your achievements, he may have appeared to have extended a short olive branch, one that gave you false hope, but he didn’t love you.

Because it always came back to that one question. How could he love you- how could he be in your corner when you had pushed him out of his own? You may not have been the one to initiate his leave, but you gave him that final shove.

That was a move you had to live with.

“I love you,” you repeated, your eyes then trailing towards your phone where that stupid article was still displayed on the screen. “I always will, but I can’t be tied to you anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

Even though Daniel was the one that had broken up with you all those months ago, this hurt more. Hearing you finally cut ties, knowing you didn’t want to be done but had to be, broke him. There was no salvaging this.

“I think-” your voice cracked as you spoke, but for the sake of this conversation you did your damn best to hold it together. “I think we need to be done.”

We are done, Daniel wanted to say, but he knew there was more to your words.

Watching your bottom lip quiver made him want to pull you into his arms one last time. He wanted to apologise and hold you close before the tears could fall.

“No more comments to the media,” you stated firmly. Daniel nodded.

You were stronger than him, maybe you always were. Daniel could barely get a word out and here you were, laying down what had to happen moving forward.

“No more interactions,” you then said, raising your hand to your arm, a soothing gesture or maybe an anxious one, he couldn’t tell. “No more- no more following me out of clubs for people to see. No more giving anyone a reason to connect us. I don’t want you in my life as anything more than another driver on the grid. You’re not my teammate. You’re not my partner. You’re not in my corner. I don’t want to worry about what you think about me anymore. I don’t want to worry about where you finish and I don’t want you to care about where I’m at. I want you to focus on driving just like I want to focus on driving. That’s it. That’s who we are. We’re drivers, Daniel. That’s all we’ve ever been. Strip back every layer of us and racing remains. That’s how it should be. We’ve-” you sucked in a breath, your words getting caught in your throat for a second. “We’ve always known that, I think. That at the end of it all, we’re drivers first. We were foolish to think we could be anything more.”

You couldn’t have both. You couldn’t be in love while on the grid together.

You were only ever drivers. That’s why you signed the McLaren contract. That’s why Daniel didn’t think twice before replacing Nyck and now Checo. You both put your careers first. It wasn’t selfish, it was in your blood, and you couldn’t hold it against each other anymore.

And you couldn’t hold onto it either.

As much as you liked to think there would come a day where you would still be in love, both of you on the grid, you accepted now that it would never happen. It was a dream, one you had to let go of. You had to mend the hole in your chest that he created. You couldn’t let him be that missing piece.

You had to respect Daniel as a driver, much like he had to with you. But that was it. No more conversations. No more subtle comments made about each other or to each other. You needed distance. No more missed looks in the paddock, because surely someone with a camera would catch it. No more watching the screen if the other was showcased. No more petty feuds. No more interactions. No more caring.

You had to cut ties with Daniel. It was the only way you could focus on yourself and your career.

Surely, enough time would pass where an article would be written about you that didn’t mention his name and his assistance in getting you to where you were now. But that wouldn’t happen if you were still holding onto him. You had to let go for the rest of the world to.

Daniel pushed himself away from the wall without saying a word. You watched, tense, as he slowly made his way towards you and sat down next to you on the bed. Knees touching like they were in the car ride last night. As you turned your head and stared up at him, you could make out the details in his face that you used to cherish, that you had memorised so early on in your relationship.

But he had changed. There was a sliver of unfamiliarity in his eyes, a reminder that this wasn’t the Daniel who was in love with you anymore.

You had to look away.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whispered. You kept your hands folded in your lap, worried that if you unclenched your fingers you would reach out for him.

Daniel nodded, agreeing with you. He raised his arm up, tucking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. You inhaled a sharp breath at the gesture, knowing this would be the last time you’d feel his touch. He rubbed his hand over your arm, neither of you thinking to say anything else, because there really was nothing left to say.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You were supposed to be in love.

And maybe, in another world, you would be. If you didn’t make the move to F1, you could still be in love. If you settled with F2, if you moved to a different series, he could still support you and you could still be his biggest fan.

But you were drivers. Career focused, determined, passionate drivers who wanted nothing more than to win. You both craved the honour and prestige of a Formula 1 seat more than anything, more than each other. You’d be lying if you thought otherwise.

You were drivers, so inevitably, it was always going to end like this.

__________________

is this the finale or is there one more chapter for these loveless drivers?

taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora

for some reason im struggling to add anyone else to the taglist, i deeply apologise. i would recommend turning on post notifs but i know its sometimes annoying, but i rly am struggling with my mentions

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #danny ric #dr3 #f1 fics #formula 1 x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au

1K notes · View notes

slexenskee · 2 months

Text

Only Shooting Stars (Break The Mold)

The AU where Gojo is actually All Might's California kid that literally no one asked for, including me 🤦‍♀️

Satoru’s best friend just told him she hates him. Actually, she told him she wanted to go hiking, which is basically the same thing.

There is emphatically nothing he’d like less than being dragged through the parched, dry hills around the Dish on an otherwise perfectly normal Saturday morning free of classes, but Makoto is only in town for two days and he promised her he’d do whatever she liked barring arson and/or more tequila shots.

“Can’t you just get Captain Underpants to go with you?” He throws out as a token protest, staggering into her rental jeep with the darkest shades he owns tossed over his eyes in a desperate attempt to keep his hangover at bay.

He squints at her as she settles in the driver’s seat of her rented death contraption. And why isn’t she hungover, anyway? She had even more to drink than him last night.

“You know his hero name is Captain Celebrity, and please don’t say that where anyone can hear you.” She rolls her eyes as she starts the car. “Until I get a more famous client he’s still my cash cow, and I’d really rather not get fired right now.”

“You couldn’t have picked a worse one.” Satoru snorts, flopping into the passenger seat. “Isn’t he still cheating on the daughter with the stepmom or something?”

“Alleged,” Makoto hisses. “Allegedly cheating. And no, obviously. I wouldn’t still be his publicist if he was that much of an idiot.”

She tries to back out of her spot and almost immediately slides several inches down the heart-palpitation-inducing San Francisco incline he’d parked her on last night. She gives him a look of pure, sheer terror over her steering wheel.

Satoru quickly undoes his seatbelt. “Yeah, okay. Put the parking brake on and switch with me— I’ll drive.”

He has them up and off the worst of Hyde St.’s incline with the undisturbed impassivity of a kid who’s spent his entire driving career wedging himself into tenuous and visibly improbable parking spots all across the bay area. Makoto gives a sigh of relief once they clear the worst of the soaring hills, and actually doesn’t bring up the topic he knows she’s itching to broach until he’s pulling onto the 101.

“You know, I wouldn’t have to bother with Captain Celebrity if someone would just finally agree to be a hero.” Makoto needles him, for the umpteenth time.

He rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “Not happening.” He shoots her down flat.

“You can’t stay in college forever!” She protests.

“What do you mean, forever?” He protests back, offended. “I’m not even twenty-two yet!”

And she makes it sound like he’s wasting his life away going to college or something! As if getting into Stanford isn’t the most snobbish badge of supremacy you can wave around in this damn state!

This is what he gets for saving her all those years ago, he laments. A best friend who nags him over all his life choices. He should have let her just fall from that damned New York skyscraper. Or more realistically, just waited it out and let an actual hero swoop in and save her. It’s not as if there hadn’t been plenty around at the time.

She’d been a twenty-one year-old intern at a prestigious marketing agency caught at the wrong end of a villain takeover, and as far as his mother was concerned he’d been a seventeen year-old ostensibly touring the city for colleges, but in reality had been touring music dive bars more than campuses. They’d immediately bonded over the fact he’d saved her life, but also the indie band shirt he’d been wearing as he’d done it.

Growing up in LA, his only two real options were surfing or surf rock, and he’d chosen to spend more time on the route that wouldn’t lead him to immediate skin cancer. His mom had eventually moved them to San Francisco, but he’d never quite grown out of his SoCal roots. He’d loved music in his last life, and in this life, he’d decided to chill the fuck out and ignore society and all it’s problems, and music seemed as good a way as any to do it. And he was pretty damn good at it, if he did say so himself. His expansive catalog of songs from his last life and eidetic memory made most people call him a genius, even if he rejected the label. So he was a passable— if not prodigal— guitarist, and Makoto had just learned to play the bass herself, so it was really no surprise they’d not only immediately bonded, but immediately decided to make a band together.

Makoto jumping ship and splitting her time between the US and Japan had thrown a bit of a wrench in their rockstar dreams, but they were making it work somehow. And considering he can teleport around the world at will, it’s really not that much of a hindrance.

That does beg the question though, of why Makoto would rather him be a hero than a musician. But he imagines he actually already knows the answer to that.

“How about you stop cleaning up after stupid celebrities, and become a celebrity yourself.” He argues, with a raised brow.

Makoto scoffs. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to break into the music industry?”

With the confidence of several dozen platinum hits spanning several dozen genres sitting pretty in his head, Satoru retorts; “I don’t think that will be a problem for us.”

She laughs him off at first, but then seems to give it genuine thought. “I guess you are pretty enough to have lead singer appeal,” she concedes, uncharitably. “But we haven’t even released an album yet; you have no idea how well it will be received on the charts. Playing little dive bar shows isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

Satoru just shrugs. “Then what’s stopping us? Let’s record an album.”

Makoto just rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Come pop by Japan next weekend, and let’s do it.”

“Sure.” He agrees immediately, making her do a double take. He grins winsomely at her. “What? I’m free next weekend. Why not?”

She just shakes her head in wonder. “Even seeing it multiple times, sometimes I really do still forget you can just… teleport across the world. And stop bullets with your eyeballs.”

“It’s telekinesis,” he corrects, but at this point it’s just rote.

“No, I specifically remember you trying to explain it had something to do with your eyeballs, don’t try to change it up now.” Makoto pokes him in the shoulder— or tries to, but is stopped with his barrier. “And how the hell that’s supposed to even make sense, I have no idea. But you definitely said it.”

Yeah, he probably deserves that for trying to explain his cursed techniques while he’d been several mystery drinks deep at a college frat party. Makoto probably still hasn't forgiven him for dragging her to that madhouse, but in his defense, she’d all but begged him to take her to an American college party in the first place.

“It’s… complicated.” He hedges off. “My eyes just help me understand how to use my powers; they’re not actually what creates my barrier.”

Makoto squints at him suspiciously. “... What’s your mom’s quirk again?”

He chuckles awkwardly. “Oh, she can convert energy from the sun. Mine’s a mutation, obviously.”

“Could just be a strange combination.” Makoto muses. “What did you say your dad’s quirk was?”

“I, uh, have no idea.” Satoru coughs, keeping his eyes on the road in a vaguely panicked manner.

“Shit, that’s right, I’m sorry.” Makoto jolts in her seat, apologetic. “You still haven’t heard anything? I thought your mom said… I mean, they’re not on bad terms, right?”

Frankly, Satoru almost wishes she would continue pestering him about becoming a hero over this particular topic.

“They’re not on bad terms, no.” He hedges off, shifting in his seat. Why couldn’t his best friend have a normal quirk, like fire breathing or water bending? Or anything besides being a human lie detector when he has so much he needs to lie about? “But they don’t talk much. I’m not sure she even knows what his quirk is herself.”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway, your quirk is what it is.” Mercifully, Makoto lets the subject drop. “Even if it makes no damn sense.”

Satoru laughs that off. “Does any quirk ever really make sense, though?”

Makoto just clicks her tongue, then launches into a spirited rant on the laws of quirk science. Satoru breathes a quiet sigh of relief as the conversation devolves into a nonsensical argument on what would be the most useless quirk in history.

One of these days he’s going to have to cave and tell Makoto the truth, but he’d really rather not do it when he’s hungover and facing the prospect of a miserable hike for the next few hours.

And to be fair, nothing he said to Makoto was a lie.

His parents aren’t on bad terms. Or rather, they’re not on any terms at all, as he doesn’t think they’ve even spoken once in the twenty-two years he’s been alive in this world. But according to his mom, they hadn’t parted on bad terms. They’d been college sweethearts, and his father had always been honest about his intentions to return to Japan. His mother had been adamant about staying in America and pursuing her own career. They’d split up for practicalities sake, unaware he was already on the way, and his mom looks back on that time of her life fondly.

His mom would go on to have him several months after his father had left the country, and raise him as a single-mother as she built a life for them. His father would go on to be the world’s strongest hero.

His mother had only ever known Yagi Toshinori as All Might, unbeatable and unbreakable, with a quirk so strong it would have him going down in history as one of the strongest heroes of all time. As far as she— and the rest of the world knew— he had some kind of strengthening quirk.

But Satoru had seen him before, on one of his trips back to Japan. It had been from a distance, as he’d taken down a villain to the delight of the cheering crowds around him, but it had been enough for Satoru’s Six Eyes to see his quirk wasn’t quite as straightforward as the strengthening ability listed on his hero profile. All Might’s core— where most humans had a swirling mass of plus alpha energy— was as empty as Satoru’s. Satoru was quirkless because his father, All Might, had been born quirkless. The quirk All Might had now must have been given to him when he was older, growing around that empty space and spreading through his body almost like a parasite. Or a curse. Satoru honestly couldn’t tell.

Satoru honestly didn’t care.

He has no opinion on All Might, or what choices he may or may not have made to wield the power he has.

When he was much younger, and saw how much his mother struggled to raise him on her own without help, he would resent him a bit for leaving her on her own like this. But his adult mind could understand the logic in both his parents’ motivations. They both made their own choices, and did what they thought was right with only care and consideration for each other.

And it’s not as if Satoru’s childhood was lacking in any capacity.

Actually, his childhood was awesome.

To be entirely honest, he doubts he would have wanted All Might around even if that was possible. He can’t imagine a better way to grow up than the way he did, rocking out in the garage with his mom on the weekends, surfing in the mornings (with adequate sunscreen), skating from school to the skatepark in the afternoons, and having the complete and utter autonomy only a latchkey kid could have. His mom did what she could to make sure he grew up comfortably and well-cared for, and that included putting in long hours at work that had him on his own for most of the week. It was the best. There were no rules against using quirks in America— someone finally got their act together on personal bodily autonomy and all that— so he’d use his ‘quirk’ to teleport himself all across the world in his spare time. As long as he was back by dinner time, his mom didn’t need to know if he decided to spend the afternoon wandering the streets of Seoul in search of the best hotteok.

He tried to keep his excursions on the down low, and keep his grades up and his nose out of trouble. While he adored his freedom, he never wanted to worry his mom. She was honestly too good for this world— and for him too, if he was being honest. The least he could do is be as good of a son as possible.

Well, he can try to be as good of a son as possible. As it stands, the majority of his chaotic existence usually gets in the way of that.

“Oh, Sacchan, you’re home already?” His mother peers out of her office, thick, horn-rimmed glasses making her purple eyes look comically large on her face as she pokes her head over the wall. “Where’s Makoto-chan?”

“Probably on the plane already, unless it got delayed.” He tosses his keys into the basket by the front door, toeing off his shoes.

She frowns at him. “You drove her to SFO, right? Don’t tell me you let her go by herself!”

He rolls his eyes. “She had a rental car to drop off, ya know. But yeah, I drove her from the rental place to her terminal.”

Not that she deserved the consideration, after dragging him on a hike of all damn things yesterday. They’d just stayed out the whole night drinking beforehand, what madwoman does that?

She gets up out of her chair, stretching her arms over her head as her hapless bun spills silver-white hair over her shoulders. “She’s such a nice girl,” his mother enthuses, as she cracks her neck. “I wish you’d bring more of your friends around, Sacchan. Your poor mother worries.”

“I’m in college now, mom.” He rolls his eyes. “We don’t really bring our friends around to meet our parents.”

More to the point, he wouldn’t want to anyway. College boys are emphatically the worst, and his mom is a very pretty woman. That’s just asking for trouble. And beyond that, he doesn’t have anyone at school he’d feel close enough to introduce her to anyway. He has plenty of people in his orbit to pair up with in labs, hang around the quad with while he’s killing time between classes, or drag to various house parties, but those are superficial bonds at best.

He’s a young, handsome boy who surfs and skateboards and is good at all sports and plays rock music and still ranks at the top of his class; suffice it to say, he’s never wanted for friends or popularity. But he’s also a full grown man living through a second life; he has very little in common with the people in his age group. It’s gotten better now that he’s a full-fledged adult again, but he still tends to find the petty struggles of his fellow undergrads to be a bit pedantic.

“You never brought any around in highschool either.” His mother laments. “Sacchan, you’re not embarrassed over your mother, are you?”

“Not at all.” He protests, then adds, because he doesn’t want to worry her, “I just don’t want people knowing exactly where I live. They seem nice enough, but you never really know with people these days.”

He says it to assure her that he’s a perfectly well-adjusted and well-liked kid who has plenty of deep and genuine friendships (entirely untrue) but only serves to worry her even more.

She frowns at him, eyes downcast. “Oh, Satoru,” she says, in a sad tone that automatically has him lurching forward to comfort her. “I know things with your father are… complicated, but I never wanted to make you feel like you had to hide yourself from the world. I want to keep you safe, but I want you to have fun too, you know?”

“Yes, I know.” He rushes to reassure her. “And I do have fun— you know I do! You came to my show just last week!”

His mother gives him a watery smile. “Yes, and your bandmate Kenji nearly started a bar fight, and the crowds got so unruly that the fire department got called in.”

“That guy deserved to be slapped around a bit.” He returns, unapologetic. “And the fire department was just there to make sure we stayed under capacity— we weren’t causing any trouble!”

“No trouble, he says, when the cops were still called by the end of the night.” She teases him.

He rolls his eyes. He can’t control whether or not two drunks decide to get in a brawl over baby mama drama outside the venue, that was totally not his fault. And also probably not the best show to take his mom to, but it was one of the few local performances they’ve ever done, and she was always making noises about finally seeing his band play in person. Unsurprisingly having two bandmates that live across the ocean and one that hops between two countries means they rarely play shows on this side of the Pacific, and he still hasn’t found a way to admit to her that his teleportation radius is a lot larger than he’d originally told her as a five year-old manifesting his ‘quirk’.

“Cops or not, it was still a good time.” He grins, adamantly.

“It was indeed a good time.” She nods, grinning back. She leans up to pat his cheek. “You looked like you were really enjoying yourself up there, Satoru. I always knew you’d be a star.”

“It was a weekday performance at a local bar, I would hardly call myself a star.” He protests, helplessly.

Her eyes twinkle behind her glasses. “Maybe not yet.”

Yes the title is from All Star by Smashmouth 😂 this fic has the most millennial playlist I've ever made

Back to Masterposts | Subscribe

#fic may death never stop you #mdnsy oneshots

251 notes · View notes

audhd-nightwing · 7 months

Text

batfam as new girl quotes

steph: where are you, tim? this place is fancy and i don’t know which fork to kill myself with.

***

dick (16 y/o): i’ll take you through the whole thing. i’ll be like your guide.

jason (13 y/o): like gandalf through middle-earth?

dick: ok, first of all, let’s take the Lord of the Rings references and put them in a deep, dark cave where no one will ever find them.

jason: except smeagol. he lives in a cave.

***

tim: you text me “happy monday.” what am i supposed to do with that?

damian: oh, i don’t know. maybe have a happy monday?

(he’s trying to be nice)

***

jason: would you consider us adorable?

dick: no! we’re adult men.

dick: we’re cute.

***

cass: you always see the worst in people.

damian: yeah, because people are the worst!

***

steph: i mean, bruce, we love you, but…

steph: but you’re not a man of the people.

bruce: of course i’m not a man of the people. i’m above the people.

***

cass: we’re a family. families talk about things.

jason: no, families ignore things until they go away.

***

new parent bruce: dick, do you want to go to sleep?

9 y/o dick: no way.

bruce: if you do, i’ll write you a check for $6,000.

***

duke: what are you doing in here?

tim: eating cookies and avoiding confrontation.

(in the bathroom at a gala)

***

steph: jason, come on, that’s like the president and the vice president not being best friends.

jason: they’re not best friends.

steph: come on. everybody knows they’re best friends.

***

dick: i’m in love!

damian: titus, clear my schedule. i need a word with our brother.

***

steph: duke, those shoes are not brown! they’re green!

duke: you guys are idiots! they’re as brown as money.

cass: what color is kermit the frog?

duke: brown! he’s a brown frog.

tim: duke! you’re color blind, dude.

***

bruce: darn it! has anyone seen my croquet cleats?

***

tim: hey guys, do you think i’m a good person?

steph: you’re a terrible person. it’s hilarious.

***

dick: i’m very quick on my… uh…

jason: did you just forget the word ‘feet’?

dick: feet, yeah.

(he’s been awake for 72 hours without sleep)

***

duke: i can’t believe i didn’t notice this before but damian, you are legitimately crazy.

damian: i think we’re all a little bit crazy, don’t you, thomas?

duke: no, i mean, you’re like aging ballerina, child chess prodigy, professional magician crazy.

damian: it’s my grandfather’s fault.

duke: yeah okay fair enough

***

tim: if i was doing something stupid, you definitely would be involved.

dick: yeah, you’re damn right i would be. and i would probably be there to make it even stupider.

***

bruce: has anyone seen my good pea coat?

***

steph: i brake for birds. i rock a lot of polka dots. i have touched glitter in the last 24 hours!

steph: and that doesn’t mean i’m not smart and tough and strong.

***

jason: are you insane, bruce? we’re not ready.

jason: that’s like taking a musical from rehearsals straight to broadway. you got to workshop it first.

(pushing the theatre kid jason agenda)

***

dick: you realize i say goodnight to you every night and you never say goodnight back?

dick: what is the problem, jason? do you not want me to have a good night?

jason: oh my god you’re so overdramatic

***

tim: please don’t mistake my measured blank tone for calmness, as i am filled with waters of rage.

(he’s at a gala)

***

bruce: damn it! i can’t find my driving moccasins anywhere!

***

duke: what a dumb idea.

duke: do it.

(he is an enabler)

544 notes · View notes

sagencelestient · 9 months

Text

Love in the Storm

⋆☆.⭒.~~Genre: Smut!

afab!virgin!reader x dom!Scaramouche (Not wanderer, but they're basically the same person)

⋆☆.⭒.~~Warnings: Fingering(?), Giving head, Intercourse, and some degradation

-⋆☆.⭒.~⋆☆.⭒.~⋆☆.⭒.~⋆☆.⭒.~⋆☆.⭒.~⋆☆.⭒.~-

You definitely didn’t think this was how you were going to spend the night. You listened to howling winds and the absolute pouring rain that was outside the small cave you and Scaramouche found. The storm didn’t show any signs of stopping, so you and him were definitely going to be stuck in here for some time.

The fact that you thought that everything was going to be fine too! You and Scaramouche were paired up for a mission before all this happened… Well, the only thing you can do is to wait it out.

You were very ill-prepared for this, as your bag had a limited amount of food, and the clothes you were currently wearing weren’t the best choice for the rapidly dropping temperatures of the cave. And with no means to light a fire, your only choice was to pace in circles to try and conserve as much heat as you can.

“My god, COULD YOU STOP WALKING AROUND?!” Scaramouche chided, “Your footsteps are getting annoying. Just sit still. Are you really that pathetic as to not even be able to stay still for a few minutes?”

“I’m just trying to keep warm, okay!?” You shot back at him. The cold was getting on your nerves, and he would soon be too.

You continued to walk around, ignoring what he said earlier.

“When’s this rain going to be over anyway? This is wasting my time. And you’re making the time pass by slower!”

“So then? Help me find a way to warm up without moving! We can’t make a fire or anything, and I don’t have any spare blankets! So what do you expect me to do? Cuddle with you or something?!” You retorted.

“I wouldn’t touch you with a metre-long stick, you know,” Scaramouche spat out.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head on how to warm up. Maybe you should try to get him to cuddle with you. You begin to walk toward him, before throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and sitting on his lap.

“Hey- What are you-” Scaramouche spluttered, turning a bit red, “Get off of me!”

“Nah. Since you didn’t give me any more ideas, this is my solution.” You said while smirking.

Though you did notice that he wasn’t any warmer than the cave you were in, but you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of getting off of him, so you stayed put.

Surprisingly, he didn’t make any attempts to shove you off of him, so that was a good sign. You two stayed like that for a few moments— you hugging him, and him being frozen in place, before you noticed something poking at you.

So you unwrapped your arms around his neck to look down and confirm your suspicions.

“You- you’re kidding me right?” You said in disbelief, “How can you have a- a that right now?!”

“...I told you to get off of me.”

An unbearable silence stretches out for a couple of moments. What could you even say in this situation? Well… you could hel- no. Who knows how Scaramouche will react to that? He may be disgusted and never interact with you again! You don’t want that!

But maybe it’s worth a shot..? Maybe? Might as well ask, right?

“So, um, do you… need help with that?” You asked, stumbling over your words a bit.

“What did you just say?” Scaramouche asked, sounding amused. While he was saying that, you noticed a smirk appearing on his face.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Was he mad? Was he into this?

“Hm? What’s that look on your face for?” he whispered into your ear, “You were the one that asked that, you know?”

You feel his breath against you and you start feeling warm. Very warm. You suppose your “method” of warming up worked after all.

“Hmm? Cat got your tongue?” He teased.

After a couple of seconds, you respond.

“W- would you like help or not?” You manage to get out. You could feel your face flushing up with embarrassment as you mutter out those words.

“Well,” he responded, “since it is your fault-”

“I guess I should then,” You interrupt, hopping off of his lap, and onto the ground.

“Desperate, aren’t you? Worried I’d change my mind?”

You ignore his mockery as you move in front of him, staring at the bulge he had.

It was right there… right there…

You look up at him, waiting for him to give you any sign of permission.

“Go ahead, I’m waiting,” he responded, looking down at you.

You sheepishly begin to move your hand to the waistband of his pants, pulling it down, and freeing his dick from its confines.

You experimentally put your hand on it, and stroked. Scaramouche tensed slightly as you did that, and you scootched a bit closer to him to be able to do what you were about to do.

You held it close to your mouth, giving it a kitten lick.

“Hurry up! We don’t have all day!”

You scoffed at that, “We most certainly do, considering outside has gone to shit right now,”

You still decided to indulge him though, putting the tip in your mouth, and sucking. He inhaled sharply at that, thrusting his hips a bit. You’re only able to get in a few more inches before you start to gag a bit. Scaramouche didn’t disappoint in that aspect. You wrap your hands around the parts that weren’t encased in your mouth, and you start to slowly bob your head up and down on it.

He groaned at the sensation of you sucking him off, gripping your hair ever so slightly. You continued on, doing the best you can. Suddenly, he thrusted hard, his dick hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

He continued to basically throat-fuck you, while you were trying your best to multi-task trying to breathe, and trying to suck Scaramouche off, and make him feel good.

“Breathe through your nose, dear,” he said.

You glared at him as if trying to say: “Thanks a lot, genius, didn’t know that.”

Scaramouche kept on thrusting in your mouth, and at some point, his thrusts got sloppier.

Oh shit, he was about to cum, wasn’t he?

And with a final snap of his hips, he did, filling your mouth with the warm sticky liquid. You removed your mouth from his dick, wiping the sticky fluid off of your lips with your tongue and swallowing it down.

“Satisfied now?” You asked.

“Well yes, but there is one more thing you could do…” Scaramouche said, his eyes glinting slyly, but you hear a tinge of hopefulness in his voice.

“Oh? Like what?”

He glanced down at his dick, before looking at your… area.

You burned at the realization of what he meant.

“I- W-What?!” You stammered, “You can’t be serious, right?”

He shrugged, “Well if you don’t wanna, we won’t.”

“Well, I do.”

A look of surprise materialized on Scaramouche’s face.

“What?” You said, “ I sucked you off a few minutes ago, why not go all the way?”

He smiled mischievously at you, “Well, I wasn’t expecting you to accept so fast. Were you waiting all this time for this opportunity, just to have sex with me?”

“Wh- what?! No!” you say, caught off-guard by the question, though you could already feel a wet patch forming.

“Really?” he hummed, reaching towards the hem of your pants.

You put your hand on his, and pull it down, revealing your panties. He smiles, and notices the wet patch forming down there.

“Wet already? Are you sure you weren’t waiting for the opportunity?” he teased with a smirk, before sitting you on his lap and moving his hand closer to your pussy.

You felt him touch it, and it sent shivers down your spine.

“Is it your first time?” He questioned.

“W- well…” you trail off, “it is. I- I haven’t really lost my virginity yet…”

Right as you said that, your breath hitched. You felt him slide his fingers onto your panties, massaging your pussy from the outside. It was slow at first, but he began gradually speeding up. He then moved up to your clit, and your breath hitched again. Was it… supposed to feel this good…? Not only that, but his other hand was busy fondling your breast. His touch was so light and soft, yet rough at the same time. It felt like heaven. His pace quickened on your pussy, as he sensed that you were about to release.

“S- Scara! I- I’m going to-” you start, but you quickly feel the sensation that you were just feeling leaving, as quick as it came.

You look down, and you notice that he had removed his hand from the surface of your panties. His fingers were covered in your slick, even though he hadn’t touched under. You look at him in a mix of disappointment and longing.

“Why? Why’d you stop?” you ask, desperate for him to continue.

He smiles.

“If you want me to continue, dear, you better beg for it,” Scaramouche answered, whispering in your ear.

“B- beg?” you asked.

“Get on your knees, take off your panties, open your legs, and tell me how much you want me,” Scaramouche directed, “and tell me how long you’ve been waiting for this moment. And don’t lie. I know you’ve been waiting for a while, darling!”

“Wh- I- I can’t-” you stammered, noticing a bulge appearing in his pants once again.

“Your choice.”

You are unsure what to do. It’s so embarrassing, doing something like that. But at the same time, you could feel the heat building up down here. It was throbbing. You need some relief right now, and the answer to your troubles was right there, in front of you.

You gulped, swallowing your pride, as you obeyed. Your panties drop to the floor, and you lay down, opening up your legs so Scaramouche could see how wet you were for him.

“P- please… Scaramouche, I need you…” you beg, “I- I was waiting for this moment for so- so long, I’ve always wanted you, so- so please, put it in me…”

You were obviously desperate, and so he pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his hard dick once again. You wondered if all of it would even be able to fit. It’s big, to say the least. He comes closer to you, placing his tip right at your entrance.

“What a whore!” he laughed, “But so cute too… since you’re being good, I’ll give you a gift.”

It hurt at first. Only at first. Your eyes widened as his length slowly penetrated your pussy, taking your virginity in the process. You needed a moment to catch your breath, trying to get used to the feeling of his cock inside you. After you adjusted to the feeling, slowly, you motioned to him to start moving.

He started off slow, of course, allowing you to enjoy the feeling of his cock slipping in and out of you. He then leaned over, entangling his hand in your hair, and started kissing you. His lips were so soft, yet he was violent with it. Your tongues intertwined as your saliva mixed, and strung out when you pulled apart. As he thrusted into you, a hand of his was playing with one of your soft boobs and his mouth was sucking all over your neck, sure to leave marks the next day.

“You look so hot right now…” Scaramouche muttered under his breath, “I love you so much, y/n.”

You moaned as Scaramouche quickened his pace. You felt as if you were going to cum. Desperate to reach your high, you grinded onto him as well, getting a little bit of extra stimulation to send gooey white liquid out of you.

“C- cum inside…” you say, right as Scaramouche follows, releasing his warm seed into you. You could feel it filling you up, as your eyes roll back in pleasure. You were barely able to think, yet you were still longing for more.

“A- ah… It’s all inside,” you say, weakly, “I- I think you can… do it… harder this time, since I kinda k- know what to expect now,” you mouth, barely making a noise.

But Scaramouche heard you, and he was glad to give you what you wanted. After all, you were such a good girl today, just for him.

⋆☆.⭒.~La Fin!~⋆☆.⭒.

#scaramouche #wanderer #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact #genshin smut #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche x you #Sage #Celestient

597 notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 2 months

Note

What about an Older! Mechanic! Eddie x Reader who's the daughter of Eddie's best friend, (Steve, Gareth? Idk) but in the beginning they hated each other, like they didn't have anything in common, but after a night when reader was kinda drunk she just found Eddie and he helped her getting to her house, and reader says something like you're cute, but you're an asshole and some days after Eddie's still thinking about it, they end up finding each other again at some shop in the town, and they decide to get something to drink and they end up finding out that maybe, they really don't hate each other, and start flirting a lot! Eventually they became a couple and Reader's dad is like I knew you liked Eddie, but he's not mad bc his daughter's an adult

I love older! eddieeeeeeee. I always picture him with a beard and it's so hard not to constantly write about that detail of him. But I never know if Eddie girls, guys, and thems also like Eddie with a beard? Well anyway, I wrote this fic and loved it, then realized I slowly slipped away from some details of the plot you included. So I truly hope this fic is okay and you still absolutely love it. I hope it's what you wanted, even though some of it was changed. I just really liked the scenes I wrote and didn't have the heart to delete it. It felt too good to me. As always, thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Cute, but an asshole

Y/N couldn't stand when Eddie came over. She understood he was her dad's best friend, but he was rude, a single loser who slept around town and everyone was obsessed with him. Sure, he was attractive and charming, but she couldn't handle all her friends hoping he'd stop by.

Her friends loved it when Eddie was around. He'd sit and flirt with all of them, they'd flirt back and Y/N was left watching. Maybe there was a small hint of jealousy she felt, knowing her friends caught his eye but she hadn't.

Eddie did notice her, he noticed her in ways he never should have. Gareth moved away after high school, got married, and had a kid. Twenty-three years later, he came back and Eddie met Y/N. And he knew he was in big trouble when he noticed how gorgeous she was. The easiest way for him to keep a distance from her was to simply ignore her existence. He knew it worked when she began to glare and snarl whenever he was in the room. Then she started getting mean back and her smart mouth pissed off Eddie in many ways.

Then she got a boyfriend and Eddie swore he'd never been so jealous in his life.

"So, Randy what do you go to school for?" Gareth asked, slowly twirling his pasta as the table sat in silence. Y/N smiled towards Randy as encouragement, and he happily answered. The two stuck in a conversation as Eddie rolled his eyes.

Y/N noticed his rude behavior all night. Whenever Randy talked, he'd mock him, discredit him, and belittle him.

Randy kissed her goodbye at the door, her smile quick to come off when she turned to march towards Eddie. He sat at the table with a smirk and drank his beer. Gareth in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes, unaware of the heated tension in the dining room.

"What the fuck is your problem?" She snapped, her foot coming forward and kicking him in the shin.

He bit his lip as he groaned in pain. "You can't seriously like that guy." Eddie said, trying to hold back a laugh. "he's a total square."

"I do like him! And there's nothing wrong with being well-mannered." She sassed, her eyes giving Eddie a look over. A look to tell him that he was the exact opposite.

But Eddie was older, and he knew exactly how those young guys wound up. "trust me, honey. Those guys stick around to get in your pants, then he's on to the new thing. He's a rich spoiled kid, he'll get rid of you once you aren't a shiny pretty thing anymore." Eddie said, standing up as he mockingly patted her head.

She swore steam was coming out of her ears. She smacked his hand away and marched off to her room.

What did he know, he was in his late forties and single. He knew nothing about relationships.

~~~

But when Y/N walked into a bar on what was supposed to be a romantic night, she thought Eddie deserved more credit for his wisdom.

Tonight was meant to celebrate her and Randy's five-month anniversary, but he never showed. She felt like an idiot for liking the guy. Sure, she knew she didn't love him, but she liked him and he was a good distraction. In ways, he made her feel confident, beautiful, and special. Which was all taken away within hours. She called and called, no answer on his end as she sat at the restaurant.

She didn't want to believe Eddie was right, but he was. Y/N knew the second she finally had sex with Randy that she'd regret it. And here she was, not even two days later being ghosted. Instead of moping at the restaurant, she went where everyone drank away their problems.

That's when Eddie found her, completely drunk and flirting with the bartender.

Eddie was a regular at the bar, he didn't have much going on in his life and enjoyed the social drinking. But he didn't expect to see his best friend's daughter completely wasted and batting her eyelashes at the bartender. He gave in, of course, and Eddie couldn't judge him for it. If Y/N looked at him like that, he'd be a puddle at her feet.

"Alright, sweetheart. Think you've had enough." Eddie said as the bartender slid her another glass. She pouted and whined as Eddie slid the drink back over.

"Don't think so. Hand it over, Bobby." She slurred but Eddie interfered again.

"Stop! You're not like my dad or boyfriend. So fuck off." She spat, successfully getting the drink as she chugged it down.

"I'll fuck off after I get you home, safely." He said in a stern tone. Cash was slammed on the table and he was fast to grab her hand and began to pull her off the stool. When the room started to spin, she lowered her guard and let him take her home.

The car ride was dead silent, the air was uncomfortable and she wasn't sure if she needed to puke.

"I need air." She managed to get out as she gagged. Eddie was quick to pull over, helping her unbuckle her belt and then getting out of the car. She was surprised by how gentle and caring he was. The way he helped her out of the car and sat next to her on the curb.

The fresh air called her stomach and she took deep breaths. She knew the hangover tomorrow was going to be an ass to deal with.

"What are you helping me?" She asked, her eyes closed as she concentrated on not puking.

"Because I'm not a terrible person." Eddie shrugged. His eyes were on her, taking the chance to admire her up close. He never allowed himself this close to her. And even if she reeked of a run-down bar, he wanted to be closer.

"Ha, funny." She faked and laughed. "You are the biggest asshole I've ever met. Well until Randy anyway."

Eddie let the name-calling slide as he focused on the second part. "what did he do?"

"Not like you care. You'd probably get to tell me I told you so and rub it in my face that I'm some stupid young girl who doesn't know anything." She scoffed, her eyes open just to glare at him. She wanted to glare the soft look in his eyes away. Why was he looking at her like that? Did he always smell this good? Finally being face to face, inches away, she instantly knew why girls never looked away.

"I do care about you. And you're not dumb, he's dumb. You are young, but that doesn't mean you don't know anything. Talk to me." He said, his hand softly resting on her knee. She tried to ignore the way it made her heart flutter.

If she was sober, she probably wouldn't have given in. But she was drunk and the words rolled off her tongue.

"We had sex, and he disappeared on me. I mean you were right," she said as she turned her head to fully face him. The pain was easy to tell in her eyes as Eddie felt his stomach drop. "I'm not a pretty shiny thing anymore. He got what he wanted and that's all I was good for." Tears filled her eyes as she looked away. She felt embarrassed to admit to Eddie he was right.

Eddie wrapped his arm around her shoulder and brought her body into his. Her head was in his neck as she softly cried.

"I shouldn't have talked to you like that. Yeah, he's a dick and I knew that. But I'm sorry for ever making you think you are just a shiny thing for boys. You are beautiful, so smart, and incredibly sexy. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You are worth so much more than sex. Don't let that idiot make you think differently." Eddie said into her hair, his chin on the top of her head as he rubbed her arm.

"If I'm all those things, why do you hate me so much?" She asked, keeping herself hidden in his neck.

"I don't hate you."

"Yes you do," she scoffed, pushing herself away from him. But his arm still lingered on her shoulder. She wiped away her tears, "You always ignore me, you never notice me! But you notice all of my friends and spend all your time flirting with them. So there's something you don't like about me" She rolled her eyes as she finished speaking.

"You're right," he sighed, Y/N tried to hold back more tears, "there's something I don't like about you." His hand reached down to her chin and moved her head to look back at him. Her wet eyes looked into his. "I hate more than anything that you are my best friend's daughter and that it's completely inappropriate to feel the things I feel for you."

Y/N wasn't sure what to say, her eyes stuck on him as she listened to his words. She didn't want to admit anything unless her sober self did it first.

"You're much cuter when you're not being an asshole." Y/N laughed, trying to ease how tense their conversation became. But the confession made her heart swell.

"Let's get you home, kid." He laughed, standing up and taking her hand.

~~~

It's been a week since that night and Eddie found himself too nervous to see Gareth or Y/N. He confessed all his thoughts to a drunk Y/N, who probably didn't remember the night.

He felt guilty for ignoring her for his benefit. He didn't connect the ways that she could have felt hurt and it made sense why she built that wall with him. But now he wanted her to break it down, and he wanted her. He wanted to make her feel special and worthy.

But he knew he caused some wounds and the hurt lingered on her and it wasn't his place to rush her healing.

Eddie was lost in his thoughts as he stared ahead at the cereal aisle.

"Thinking hard, huh?" He heard a voice come from behind him. He jumped out of his thoughts and turned around. Y/N stood there with a cart and a smile on her face.

"Hi, stranger. How have you been?" Eddie asked, he hated how nervous he felt but she looked happy and she spoke to him, so that had to mean something good.

"I've been good. Things with Randy are done for good." She said, Eddie nodded. That means she remembered that night. "and I wanted to thank you for helping me get home that night."

"It wasn't a big deal. I'm happy to help."

"Well I need to go, dad has me on a time limit." She laughed, Eddie smiled but felt a little bummed their talk had to be cut so short. She began to walk past him, then stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"Oh Eddie," she said, he turned to look back at her. "I have inappropriate feelings for you too." She sent a wink and walked off. But Eddie was frozen in the aisle with a smile on his face and a flutter in his stomach.

~~~

A few days later, Eddie was pulling up to Gareth's house. A case of beer in his hands as he knocked on the door.

And to his delight, Y/N opened the door. She was in sweatpants and a tank top, a night in.

"I'm sorry, my dad got called into work. But you are welcome to come in!" Y/N said, stepping aside as Eddie walked in.

"Beer?" He asked, holding up the case.

Half the case was gone as they settled on the couch and talked all night. It turned out they had more in common than they believed. They had a similar taste in movies and music. Same opinions on food and people in town.

The more they talked, the closer their bodies got.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Y/N whispered, her face inches away from Eddie's.

"Oh absolutely, darling." Eddie laughed, moving his face closer to hers. Practically nose to nose.

"I've always thought you were so fucking hot. I mean, I still do. You have this strong jaw, aged eyes, and major sex appeal. I can't tell you how many friends I stopped talking to after you flirted with them because I was so jealous." She explained a confession she was sober enough to make.

Eddie fought off the huge blush he felt on his cheeks.

"That jealous? That's so hot." Eddie whispered, a dark look over his eyes. "Want to make them jealous?" His lips were inches from hers as he cupped her jaw.

Y/N knew what he was hinting at and god did she want it.

"Definitely," she smiled, his lips pressed against hers as he devoured her. The kiss was heavy and hot. Set her body on fire and made her see stars. Eddie moaned in the back of his throat as she climbed on his lap. Her hands ran down his toned back.

He couldn't control himself, his hands worked down her body and landed on her thighs. He gave them a quick squeeze before he moved them to her ass. She moaned as his hands squeezed her ass, her hands moved to under his shirt, her fingernails scratching his chest and feeling his chest hair.

Their moans and groans filled the empty house as their tongues battled and tasted each other.

~~~

After their heavy moment together, the flirty looks and comments couldn't stop. Whenever Eddie was over to see Gareth, Y/N couldn't help herself. Whenever her dad left the room, her lips and hands were on Eddie in seconds. That not he complained, kissing her was his favorite thing in the world.

It didn't take long for them to start going on dates and becoming a couple. Gareth knew Y/N was dating and had a boyfriend, he just wasn't sure who it was. He had a feeling it could have been Eddie, he knew his daughter and she was easy to see through. Eddie had a better poker face so that's where Gareth was stuck.

Y/N could have been dating a different guy but had a massive crush on Eddie. But it wasn't his place to force answers, he'd wait until she was ready to tell him.

Y/N was waiting by the door, Eddie was on his way to pick her up for their date. Gareth respected her privacy and didn't sneak to see who's been picking her up.

"Hey, kid. I got to tell you something." Gareth said, Y/N walked over to the opening of the living room where he sat on the couch.

"What's up?" She asked her eyes on the clock.

"I know you have a thing for Eddie," Y/N froze in her spot and her eyes went wide. She went to deny but her dad kept on taking it. "And I just wanted to tell you before you got your hopes up. But he's dating someone. He's never been serious with anyone before but this girl he's locked into."

Gareth watched as a tiny smile that was quick to appear was also quick to disappear from her face. But she didn't look upset, and that's how Gareth felt like he already knew.

"And you aren't upset at all," Gareth said with a smirk. "I thought you'd be crushed."

"Oh well, you know. Just a crush." She said as she tried to brush it off.

"Y/N, I know the girl is you," Gareth said, taking a sip of his beer as she stood shocked. "I have a feeling why you both tried to hide it, not very well might I add. If you wanted it a secret, maybe don't let him feel you up in the hallway. But I want you to know, you are both adults, and I just want you to be happy."

Y/N blushed embarrassed at the thought of her dad watching her boyfriend feel her up. But she felt happier than ever to know her dad accepted Eddie.

"Thank you, dad." She said, she walked over and leaned down to hug him.

"I'll still kick his ass if needed."

Y/N laughed and bid her goodbye. A bright smile on her face as she walked out and met Eddie halfway.

"What's with the big grin?" Eddie asked

"My dad knows," before she could finish her sentence, Eddie was already running to his car and starting the engine.

He may have been older, but he still reacted like a child sometimes. But hey, she wouldn't want it any other way.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #older eddie munson #older eddie munson x female reader #older eddie munson x reader #ashwhowrites

348 notes · View notes