#no angst just fluff
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fifteen
#mdzs#mdzs fanart#mo dao zu shi#wangxian#lan wangji#lan zhan#wei ying#wei wuxian#TEEN WX MY BELOVED#no angst just fluff#at least for now !#ok but like my crush did this to me before that was so embarrassing actually#ur turn lwj u_u#boop the cheek
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ok i wanted to do something for croma week rlly bad and since i'm not that confident in my art skills i wrote a fanfic :) its only about 2k words, i've never really done this before tho so i hope it turned out ok lol (ignore that it’s a day late)
“Did Lord Death really need to rent a venue this far away?”
“Maka, keep your fucking eyes on the road!”
“I wouldn’t need to keep looking back and forth if you read off the directions like you were supposed to!”
Soul grumbled something about the ‘straightforward’ instructions under his breath in reply. When Maka glanced at him, his dirty sneakers that he had insisted on wearing were smudging the dashboard and he was very clearly watching a Minecraft parkour video. Despite the lack of space in the back, she was regretting giving him shotgun privileges. She could have made room somewhere. Overlooking the trunk was too generous a move.
In the rearview mirror she checked on her passengers. Kid sat in the middle seat – the ‘bitch seat’, as Patti refused to stop calling it. Liz and Patti sat on either side in matching white dresses. Their outfits had been painstakingly planned out by Kid weeks in advance. On each side of his chest he wore a perfectly positioned white boutonniere.
“Kid,” Maka asked into the mirror, “why is your dad going to all this trouble? Couldn’t we just do this on school grounds?”
“He mentioned something-or-other about wanting to do ‘something normal’ for the student body. I believe all of this is wildly unnecessary, but… you know Dad.”
“Ah.”
“Maka, that’s – that’s the turn. You’re missing it. Get the – no, the sign with the balloons on it. Maka!”
“I got it! Stop yelling in my damn ear, Soul!”
The venue that Lord Death had chosen was rectangular and beige, with large cardboard letters that spelled ‘PROM’ adorning the entrance. They weren’t lit up and so they loomed in the darkness above the students. Even though the little parking lot, too, was dim, it was clear that most of the spots were taken.
“Maka, your clock reads eight-o’-four,” chirped Kid from the back seat. “Prom started at eight o’ clock. Your clock is fast, right?”
Soul sighed. “Calm down, Kid. Ever heard of being fashionably late? It’s cool.”
“I don’t see what’s ‘cool’ about being late.”
“Yep, that checks out.”
“Frankly, I don’t need somebody who wears Air Jordans to a formal event lecturing me on what’s ‘cool’ and what isn’t.”
“Both of you please shut up.” Maka swerved into a free space at the end of the lot and the jolt, thankfully, quieted the bickering men.
Black Star and Tsubaki stood outside the entrance and greeted the group when they arrived, by leaping up and down and waving, respectively. Soul ran ahead and ended up in a headlock, his friend shaking him around like a dog with a toy. Maka chuckled under her breath. Black Star was Soul’s reason for showing up at the micro-event. Neither of them could miss such a cool, super-cool gathering of coolness.
As soon as Maka stepped inside, she was snow-blind. Had Lord Death decided on ‘the color white’ as the theme? White streamers, white paper lining the floor, and was that a cutout of a polar bear in the corner? It had to be. The disappointment that hit Maka did not seem to affect Soul and Black Star in the slightest. Both of them trotted off to explore. Tsubaki, now separate from her friend, crept up to Maka.
“Hi, Maka.”
“Hi, Tsubaki! How did getting Black Star up here go?”
“He tried to wear one of those dollar sign necklaces. He… has a sense of style!”
Maka grimaced. “He sure has one.”
“Crona is already here, by the way. I saw them in the window while we were waiting for you.”
Maka would have been content staying at home studying the whole night. Crona was her reason to go. Prom was nothing more than an excuse to see the people you adore, after all, and the more time she spent with them, the more her affection grew.
“Really? Where are they?”
“Over there.”
Tsubaki pointed to what appeared to be a snack bar. Crona stood crooked beside a wide punch bowl, observing the dancers on the floor. Tsubaki giggled and threw Maka back to the present. She had been staring.
“Tsubaki, look at them. Look at their bowtie. They’re so cute, I’m… my hands are so sweaty. Ew.” She laughed to herself.
“They really do look nice. You go talk to them. I’m going to say hello to Liz and Patti.”
“Got it. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck! You’ll do just fine.”
Crona spotted Maka after she was already speeding toward them. They jolted and offered an awkward wave hello.
“Crona! Hi! Is it okay if I give you a hug?”
“Oh! Th– that’s fine!”
Maka threw her arms around them in a bear hug. She wasn’t sure if the lavender smell on them was the work of false fragrance or a real plant in their pocket, but she loved it all the same. Their jacket itself was soft. Very soft. She buried her forehead into their shoulder.
“It’s so good to see you!”
“It’s good to see you, too. I, uh… missed you.”
“God, you see her all the time. You saw her two days ago, dumbass.”
Maka forced a smile. “Hi, Ragnarok.”
“Ignore him,” Crona whispered. “Do you like the decorations? It was mostly Marie and me setting them up.”
“They’re nice. I’m, uh… not sure I understand the theme.”
Crona lit up and snatched a solo cup from the table beside them. They filled it with the punch and handed it to Maka.
“Try it. It’ll make sense, I promise.”
“...Oh, it’s coca-cola.”
Crona pointed to the cutout of the polar bear. Up close, Maka could see that someone had draped a scarf around its shoulders.
“Oh my God, is the prom coca-cola bear themed?”
They nodded vigorously. “Marie came up with it after Lord Death bought nothing but white decorations.”
“That’s adorable! I… don’t think anybody’s going to get it, though.”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m over here, so I can explain it to anyone who doesn’t know.”
Maka squinted. “Your plan is to be over here, pouring soda for everyone the whole time?”
“Um… yes?”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather tag along with me instead?”
Maka saw Crona begin to blush. The abundance of black blood let off a gray color instead of the typical red. Crona looked back and forth; the confidence that they once held had evaporated into the stuffy room.
“Are you sure that I wouldn’t bother you, or anything?”
“Of course you wouldn’t bother me. Actually, I’d really like to spend time with you.”
Crona agreed, thankfully, because Maka’s face burnt and she was not entirely sure what she would say if they had any other doubts. Together they said hello to the chaperones – Marie, Sid, Stein, and Naigus, each of them commenting on the secret theme and Crona’s involvement – and bounced between Tsubaki’s group and the snack bar. Despite the attractions and the people to spend time with, Maka’s attention remained consistently fixed upon Crona.
They had been engaged in this routine for an hour until the dj’s cacophonous dance music was abruptly replaced by some 80s love ballad that Maka couldn’t remember the name of. From the snack bar, they watched groups break off into pairs or cluster at the back of the room.
“The music’s quieter now,” noted Crona.
“Yeah. It’s so that everyone who brought a date can, well… have their date. It’s the whole reason couples come here, anyway.”
“Oh.”
She took a deep breath and wiped her palms onto her dress. “Do you want to dance with me, Crona?”
Crona froze, their mouth open, a small pretzel still in their hand. “Are you- are you sure that you want to? With me? I - I’ve never really done this before and I don’t want to ruin–”
“I’m sure. I’ve kind of been hoping that I’d get to dance with you since I got here.”
Crona’s whole face bore smudges of gray, like charcoal. They scratched the back of their neck and, with great care, held out their hand for Maka. She took it.
“Awh, your hands are sweaty, too!”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay! I don’t mind, I promise.”
After a few failed attempts at a traditional dance, the pair decided that the best course of action would be to follow the precedent set by the other couples and rock back and forth holding each other. Maka could hear Crona’s heartbeat even over the music. Every once in a while they asked for some form of confirmation – was Maka comfortable, was she still okay with it, and so on – and each time, she reassured them.
“I’ve been having a really good time with you,” she whispered during the song’s closing solo.
“Yeah. This is really nice… thank you for dancing with me, Maka.”
“Mhm! Like I said, I really wanted to.”
Crona just smiled and pulled Maka closer. What was once a loud growl of dozens of people talking throughout the room had died down to a distant humming. She could focus on them, their texture, their smell, everything. Nobody else existed.
The song changed from classic rock back to modern pop and the roar started up again. Maka looked around at the groups of friends reclaiming the dance floor, and among them, she spotted Black Star and Soul dancing – perhaps they thought that they were on fire and they were flailing in fear. That would explain quite a bit.
“These idiots,” she scoffed.
“Hey, Casanova,” Ragnarok sneered, “Why don’t you take your lady friend upstairs?”
“Oh, no, they said not to go up there.”
“Come on, I’m trying to do you a favor here!”
“Ragnarok, shut the fuck up.” Maka looked from the vile little ghoulie back to Crona. “What’s upstairs?”
“Oh, it’s just the roof. Marie said not to let anyone up there because someone could fall.”
She side-eyed Black Star, who was doing some sort of dance that involved clenching his hands into fists and wiggling his arms very very fast. “Did she name any names?”
Crona seemed to see, too. They winced. “I guess that rule was probably for him. It’s so loud in here… we can go up there, if you want. So we can hear each other better. I don’t think that would be against the rules.”
They snuck through the stairwell door after Crona revealed its location – obscured behind one of the bear cutouts. Outside, nothing could be heard of the party except for a muffled beat. Nothing could be felt except for a cool night breeze. Against the horizon, turbines whirred valiantly in the darkness. Both of them sat down side by side in the middle of the roof.
“This is much better,” sighed Maka.
“Mm.”
“Are you okay?”
“Just happy. This past…well, everything has been really nice. Thanks for hanging out with me, Maka.”
“Of course. You don’t have to keep thanking me.” She grinned and nudged their shoulder.
“Sorry. Habit. I just don’t know how to say it. Being with you at the DWMA has been… I’ve been happy. Especially because of you. You’re amazing. I really… I really like you.”
“I really like you, too. You’re one of the bravest people I know.” She was smiling. Her face hurt from it. “Hey. Crona. Look at me, okay?”
“Hm?”
Maka leaned in. She waited, in case Crona wanted to pull away, and when they only leaned closer she held their jawline and kissed them. A second later it was over, and she was staring into their eyes again. Those eyes sparkled like lightning in the desert.
“Hi.” They said after a sizeable trail of stammering.
She giggled. “Hi.”
For a time – there was no way to be certain whether it was minutes or hours – Maka leaned against their shoulder and the two of them spoke in whispers while they looked at the stars. The kiss seemed to give Crona a second wind of courage and they had their free arm caressing Maka’s.
“The others and I are going to go to my place after this and watch a movie,” she said. “I’d really like it if you came.”
“Are you sure they wouldn’t mind?”
“Are you kidding? They all like you. Even Kid.”
“Mm.” They smiled. “I’ll come with you, then.”
A coyote cried out somewhere in the distance.
“All of this really has been great. Even the shitty music and the coke bear theme.”
“Your lips tasted like coke when you kissed me.”
Maka laughed. “Well, there’s worse things, I guess.”
It was almost midnight when Soul and Black Star lost their energy at the dance. They were some of the last to leave apart from the chaperones themselves. What this meant was a lot of barefoot waiting in the car for Maka, Crona, Kid, Liz, and Patty.
“Okay, we’ve gotten through… fourteen songs waiting,” sighed Liz. “Any requests for the fifteenth?”
“I don’t think I know any more songs,” said Crona.
“Really? That’s tragic. Liz, play something classic,” Kid ordered.
“Classic or classical? I can never tell with you.”
“Wait, hold on!” Maka gripped the steering wheel. “Here he comes!”
Soul walked across the parking lot, his tie undone and his shoelaces spilling over the pavement. He was a mess. He staggered to the shotgun door and opened it, only noticing too late how it was occupied.
“What? Crona? Huh. Would you mind moving over?”
“Sorry, Soul. You snooze, you lose.” Maka smiled. “You’ll just have to sit somewhere else.”
“Wh–? There’s no more seats. Where am I going to sit?”
“Well, there’s always the trunk.”
#croma#cromaka#croma week#cromaweek#maka albarn#crona gorgon#crona x maka#soul eater#this was so much fun to write tbh#no angst just fluff#croma week fanfiction#soul eater fanfiction#lowkey just filled in some of the dialogue with shit i would do with my bf#hiii spence
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i think someone should share a cigarette with lucy...as a little treat! bonus points if it's a joint! it's literally the sweetest thing and i love to see it all the time.
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satoru is the friend that always upstages your boyfriend, but he’s so good to you that your boyfriend can’t really complain without coming across as the asshole in the equation. your boyfriend sends you flowers after your promotion, but satoru sends an arrangement of roses in the shape of your favorite animal. your boyfriend suggests going out to dinner for your birthday and gets you the piece of jewelry you’ve been eyeing as a present, but satoru’s the one who books the michelin-star restaurant and surprises you with a $10k handbag. you car breaks down and your boyfriend offers to pick you up/drop you off at work for the week, but satoru steps in a loans you his car and then tells you can keep it. and when your boyfriend does get the balls to confront satoru, he’s awfully relaxed, very calm as he explains that you’re his best friend in the whole world, so he just wants to treat you right. no harm in that, right?
#he's NOT SHIT!!!!! PRESIDENT of the aint shit club!!!!!#vice president nanami kento and i will not argue 😐 i won't nanami is JUST as bad he just has more tact#board members include: megumi fushiguro (treasurer) + yuuji itadori (secretary 1) + yuuta okkotsu (secretary 2)#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk fluff#jjk smut#gojo satoru x you#gojo fluff#gojo angst#satoru gojo x reader#gojo smut#💌.satoru
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i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~
࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 09:45 P.M 」
tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m
a part of gojo's love entries
“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”
“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”
“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”
“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”
“i hate you!”
satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”
lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.
gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”
“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?
but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.
“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”
you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”
“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”
“i’m just the container though.”
“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”
truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.
and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.
the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.
and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.
“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.
you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.
“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”
and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.
“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.
you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”
"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”
but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.
a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.
didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.
suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.
would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?
he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.
all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.
when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.
and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.
“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”
“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.
“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”
“the baby—”
“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.
“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”
you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—
“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#okay i'm just in the mood of very soft gojo#jjk imagines#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru angst#gojo angst#jjk angst
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☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. pretty brown eyes.
about. gojo might be the one with the six eyes, but there’s nothing special about those. your brown eyes are real weapon, here.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, hurt comfort. slight hints to insomnia, idk how infinity works sorry, reader has brown eyes, afab!reader.
“you could kill me if you wanted to.”
it’s the dead of night when he whispers your name. though low in volume, his tongue curls around each syllable loud enough for you to hear him. “
“‘toru, what are you on about—” digging the heal of your palm into your eyes, you dislodge the crust from your lash line and groan. the red lines on your digital clock read sometime between three and four am— but the digits blur as your mind swims with sleep.
“your eyes. they’re so perfect.” a loving grin etches itself onto his face when you crack one open to look at him, masking over the exhaustion seeping from his pores and the anxiety that spikes in the sapphire pools of his own eyes. “you should be able to get away with anything because of them.”
“baby,” you reiterate and roll over to face him fully. gojo gets like this when he’s overworked and worried, when there’s something big on his mind you’re not quite sure you’d understand. you move to jab a thumb into his forehead, right between his brows to alleviate the ache in his skull but you don’t let your disappointment show when rough skin meets the dull buzz of his infinity.
you forget that his six eyes flow in the dark — that his blue eyes are not as blue as they seem. “you’re talking nonsense, it’s late. get some sleep.”
“my eyes. they could kill me if i worked too hard.”
satoru’s eyes are a lot stormier than most would expect, they can be dark and cold. like an angry ocean tired of tournament. they can be bright, full of hope and loving — you notice that change whenever he’s with your students. they hide behind the frame of his ability, the one that hardly ever turns off despite how it really could kill him.
his mind is always running, his body almost always on empty.
in the moonlight, you see a faint sliver of silver between the flecks of diamond and stormy skies.
he swipes a gentle thumb just over cheek yours to catch a fallen lash. “but yours,” gojo continues, voice thoughtful and low. tired above all else. “those pretty brown eyes…baby, they’re dangerous in a different way. beautiful in another that makes me feel safe. puts my mind at ease or somethin’. one look ‘nd I’d be doing anything for you,”
there the two of you are, face to face in the dark — cheeks pressed to pillows and heads under the covers as if you’re children shielding yourself from the world. creating the safe space to let satoru confess.
“if those pretty brown eyes were the last thing i got to see before i died. then i think i’d be okay.”
“don’t say that.” your face crumples and his infinity falls away as if gojo had been anticipating your touch, the buzz just shocking through your skin as you wrap your arms around his larger frame, pull his head down to your heart beating in your chest. “you’re not allowed to die, satoru. not yet.”
“i know.” for once he’s grateful he can’t see your eyes — he hates the way they shine when you cry.
“i need you.”
“i know.” he’s quiet. “i need you too.”
“then rest, you don’t have to keep watch.” gojo feels the shake in your lungs as you speak. you worry too much about him. but with your hand cascading through his soft locks, and the other squeezing him close he’s finding it hard to resist.
usually when he lays next to you, he’s stiff as a board, always anticipating whatever danger might come next. but the biggest threat to him of all is you, and those big brown bambi eyes of yours — the way they’re wet with love, shiny with tears because you adore satoru gojo. you care about him way too much for your own good.
those eyes of yours are convincingly treacherous , he can’t help but let his body sag and let go of his cursed technique while you rub his back and soothe him.
“you’re dangerous, yanno,” satoru grunts, lips dragging along your skin with every word. “especially when you look at me like that, with those puppy dog eyes…can’t say no to you.”
but you smile as he drifts off, his tall frame heavy against you — your lashes blinking soft against his forehead as you curl around him protectively. “i’d rather use them to get you to rest, rather than kill you. ‘toru.”
your words are wasted on deaf ears — his deep snore indicating that gojo is finally asleep, doing himself a favour and locking his pretty blue eyes away.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo angst#gojo x yn#satoru gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen x reader#idk im sad and i love him#self indulgent slay#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki#✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted#angelshubnetwork
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astarion cheek kisses
After he mends your favourite shirt, you give him a small peck on the cheek as thanks. He all but freezes as his mind blanks, not able to decipher what had just happened. He raises his hand to his face and lets his finger linger over where your lips were and wonders how this warmth had got there and is confused as to why he likes it so.
He had always done small acts like helping you carry your camp supplies but he starts doing even more in hopes of feeling that soft buzz on his cheek again. When he sees you doing your laundry by yourself at a river, he rushes over and finishes them all himself. Whenever he hunts, he brings back a rabbit or a squirrel and roasts it over the campfire for dinner, even feeding you himself once. He does such acts and waits for you to give him another peck but to no avail. You, not noticing this sort-of mission he has undertaken on a daily basis, think nothing of it as he has always helped you out in small ways like this anyways. He, not realising that you have been resisting the urge to give him all the hugs and kisses he's been desiring so as to not make him uncomfortable, reaches his limit and finally speaks up about it.
"Why haven't you done the thing?"
"What thing?"
"It's been three whole days without you doing the thing!"
"What the hells are you talking about?"
He points to his cheek.
Oh.
You smile and walk up to him, caressing one side of his face and giving him a small kiss on the other.
"You can just ask, you know."
He smirks, pointing to his lips this time and says, "do the thing."
#astarion x tav#bg3#astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#astarion headcannons#astarion fluff#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion imagine#astarion brainrot#astarion ancunin#sorry just been reading so much astarion angst and needed a bit of fluff
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Thinkin abt Dad Bod!Miguel…
Ft. Daddy, Praise, n Size kink!!! (Duh.)
[NSFW]
You leave the classroom after enduring the most stupid 3 hour 8am lecture that you needed for a stupid credit for the stupid degree that you cried and prayed for.
Your spirit is immediately lifted once you see your boyfie waiting outside of the building for you, the six-foot-nine man leaning against his car like a total poser. His burly arms are crossed, which makes his pecs bulge through his shirt even more. In your opinion, he fills out his button-up perfectly; the short sleeves barely able to contain his biceps, the hairs of his chest peeking out the first three open buttons… and his soft belly. Perfect for naps. You couldn’t see it from here, but you just knew his ass was lookin good in those jeans, too. You crash into his arms, kisses planted on your head. “Missed you today, mamita.” He mumbles into your hair. “Missed you more, baby. Now, please, take me home.”
You step in the house and face plant onto the couch. You could’ve fallen asleep right there, but you feel a breath on your ear, “Mamita, aye…”, you lift your head with a “hm?” toward the gentle voice, “Mama, ven a la cama… será mejor que’l sofá, beba… ven, ven…” you let out a small ‘Mph’ when you’re peeled off the couch. Miguel scoops you up bridle style, as if you were a feather, and takes you to the bedroom.
Once you sluggishly remove your clothes, down to your panties and tank top, you, again, face plant into what feels like heaven (your bed). Miguel goes to change so that he’s just wearing his boxers. He stops in front of the full-body mirror, looking at himself. His muscles are still there, but he isn’t too happy with what he sees, having gained some weight since being with you, but more importantly, he wonders if you think the same. Even a little bit.
You smile to yourself as you feel the stomach of your lover pressed against your back, wrapping you with his strong, hairy arms and entangling his thick legs with yours, cocooning you in a bundle of warmth. “Comfy, mamita?” He presses a tender kiss on your temple. You sleepily nod your head against the pillow, blissful in your position as little spoon. There’s a moment of peaceful silence as his calloused hand starts to affectionately rub your back under the tank top.
The thought still eats at him, though.
“Bebe…”
“hm?”
“Esta feliz conmigo?”
“What?” Your head snaps up toward him. There’s genuine concern in your voice.
“I love you, that’s no question, but if you want to have your college fun, you should be able to. I don't want you to miss out on experiences because of… me. ” You sit up now, looking at him with furrowed brows, “What’re you talking about?” He looks down at the bare skin of your thigh, a deep, discouraged sigh escaping his lips as his pointer finger caresses the skin there, “I just want you to be happy. More than anything.”
In one swift motion, you straddle him. “Missing what? Those dumb frat parties filled with little boys who wouldn’t know how to handle me? You’re so silly, baby.” You press a tongue-filled kiss on his lips, and a low growl erupts in his throat. “Ugh, I’d miss out on a million parties if it meant having all this.” You murmur against his lips before starting a trail of kisses down his torso, even with an occasional nibble, the warmth and hair of his skin meeting your lips the whole way down. You worshipped every inch of his thick body with your lips, all the way from his broad and hairy chest, his stretch marks, to his chubby midriff, down his mouth-watering happy trail, and finally to the hem of his boxers, where a bulge began to form.
You look up and give him a sultry look, “No college boy could ever compare to my fine ass hubby." His voice becomes strained, breath labored as you take your index finger and rub precise circles on his wet tip through his boxers, making him hiss. “fuck, mami… what did I do to deserve you? Eres una Bendicion, tu sabes?”, he caresses your cheek with his thumb, “Scored a fucking goddess… I’m so fuckin’ lucky. No sé cómo conseguí una mujer como tú..” he coos.
"And you’re so big n’ strong n’ handsome, Daddy. I love it.” Your voice combined with your touch made his dick twitch, his now angry tip slightly peeking out. You fail to fight back a small moan when you release his pretty cock from the confines of his boxers, it springing against his lower belly. Drool began to form in your mouth. You haven’t even tasted it and you were already cock drunk. “love this cock s’much…so perfect.” you mewl as you slowly begin pumping his cock. Miguel pathetically looks down at you; The prettiest girl in the world showing him the attention he doesn’t feel worthy of but oh so deserves. “Awe, You want daddy’s cock, don’t you, baby?” He tuts, his voice all sweet and pouty.
“Mhm,” you nod, a meek expression on your face.
“Let me show my man just how happy I am to be his.”
And any self-doubt that Miguel had about you being with him was poof! Gone.
*sighs* He sew cewt. Hope u liked it <3
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!
#nghhhhhh#mi espositooo#guys I just wanna worship him n tell him he’s PRETTY#he’s so dreamyyyyyy#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara x reader#dad bod!miguel#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara smut#spider man 2099#dbf!miguel#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara blurb#miguel o’hara one shot#miguel o’hara drabble#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara headcanon#miguel spiderman#spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara fanart#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara across the spider verse#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara angst#atsv miguel#miguel 2099
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"JUST A LITTLE LONGER" - SATORU GOJO
✴︎ summary: after geto defects, you find yourself on a roof of a building wondering where things went wrong - and you're not the only one. based off another scene from apothecary diaries.
✴︎ contents: gojo x f!reader, fluff, angst about geto, gojo cries, reader does too a little, but cuddling from behind, i love this scene so much it's so cute, and jinshi is so gojo coded
✴︎ wc: 821
This was probably a stupid idea.
And it was, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from doing it anyway. A cursed spirit could kill you any day, so what was falling off a roof? Besides, you took another shot of sake, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care about the possible chance of falling to your death after today.
Suguru was gone.
Defected, after slaughtering so many people — or monkeys as he called them now. There was no changing his mind — no going back. Suguru was a person of conviction — you supposed he still was. Shoko simply went with the flow, Satoru knew what his duties were, and you — you didn’t know what you were doing, but you thought maybe it was enough if you could help just one person every day. Especially if that person was one of your friends.
And yet you didn’t see one of your friends needing your help, did you?
So why were you sitting up on the roof of one of Jujutsu Tech’s buildings? You didn’t know either — you had a whole suite of aloneness you could have drank in, but you choose to take a shot in the same place that you, Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru drank in on late nights between assignments.
Shoko would tease you — too sentimental for your own good — that’s what she always told you, but you couldn’t help it. Not after a night like this. But sitting up here wouldn’t resolve anything would it?
And you began to carefully climb down, thinking about how much easier it was when Suguru used a cursed spirit to help you up (even when he really wasn’t supposed to summon them on campus). Fuck, your eyes burn with tears. You missed him—
Your foot slips, as you fall backwards, into the awaiting arms — more like the awaiting body of someone below. You hear a grunt as you tumble backwards into them, your body and mind in shock, wondering what person you possibly murdered with your stupidity.
“Satoru? What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that,” Satoru grumbled at you as you turned to face him, “y'know when I joked that you would be falling for me, this isn’t what I meant,”
“Oh really? Because this is exactly what I had in mind,” you snort, and you move to get up, but he’s pulling you back with a hand around your wrist, “Toru, let me get off of you—”
“No, it’s cold,” he pouts, and now you really take a look at him — he wasn’t wearing his glasses for once, his hair unkempt at best, and his uniform all too disheveled — and his face, porcelain skin flushed red — and the faint smell of—was that— “are you drunk?” Satoru wasn't one to drink, but you supposed it wasn't for the act of it as it was the effect.
And it may have been the moonlight, but you swore he flushed further, before he’s forcing you to turn back around, pulling you further into his lap, his arms around your middle, “Maybe,” he mumbles, “I could say the same to you,” and you spot the bottle of sake on the ground in the grass, somehow not broken, “reminiscing about old times?” he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.
“Yeah,” you sigh, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as his breath warmed your neck, his hair tickling your skin as he leaned closer, “when did it go wrong?”
“More like when did i go wrong?” he mutters, words all too bitter, “I should have seen it — I should have done more—”
“No one saw it, we didn’t realize how bad it had gotten for him since Riko,” you whispered, “none of us—”
“You weren’t his best friend—”
“Me and Shoko were there too,” you cut him off, “we were there too,” you say quietly, “either way, Suguru made his choices, just as we did. And there’s nothing more we can do, except for what we can do here,” and then you add, “and it isn’t your fault.”
“Why not?”
“Because i said so,” and he laughs then, a genuine laugh.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, before burying his face in the nape of your neck, his nose tickling you, and despite the cool air of the approaching fall, your body was now burning.
“Toru—you’re tickling me—” and he’s only pulling you closer, as you finally glance back at him, “Toru—” and your words fall away, as you see a tear slip down his cheek, his eyes shut.
“Just a little longer,” he says, barely above a whisper, his face pressed against your shoulder again, as his arms tighten around your middle, “warm me up for a little bit more,”
You stare up at the night sky, stars dotting the night sky — such a beautiful night despite it all — as you finally let your tears slip down your cheeks silently, “I’ll stay as long as you want.”
And you did, forever.
✴︎ a/n: i hope this doesn't flop like my other fics lately, but oh well lol. i wrote this quick little thing now, so forgive any typos.
✴︎ taglist: @forest-hashira, @anondrive, @neon-crow, @forest-fruits-jam, @yukuriku, @lxvegojo
#sab [mlist]#this is just a silly little thing i wrote#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fanfiction#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#satoru gojo imagine#gojo x reader#gojo fanfiction#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#satoru gojo angst
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Cuddling up to Astarion in his tent, curled up against his side with your head on his chest while he reads. The soft rumble of his voice in his chest, and the long fingers of his free hand softly playing with your hair, lulls you to sleep.
#Pleaseeeeeee it's all I want#I'm gonna write a one shot of this#I just needed the brain worm out#baldurs gate astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion#baldur's gate 3#astarion x tav#bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#astarion bg3#astarion x reader smut#astarion x tav angst#astarion angst#astarion smut#astarion fluff#astarion x tav fluff
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casual
partially based on casual by chappell roan and a lil bit of sad personal experience hehe
word count: 2k
content warnings: angst (no happy ending), references to smut, alcohol, harry being a douche, not ramadan friendly
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
From: H (12:47 a.m.)
Come over?
To: H (12:50 a.m.)
Give me 15
From: H (12:52 a.m.)
K
. . .
It’s not unusual for her nights to look like this. Or her early mornings, rather.
It wasn’t always this way. When she first met Harry, she wanted nothing to do with him romantically or intimately. She’d heard about his reputation — it wasn’t anything bad as long as you were looking for the same thing. He was an expert in bed and the friends that slept with him always provided rave reviews. Ever excited rumblings of, “oh my God, he’s so caring! He made me finish twice before he even took his cock out” and “he’s the perfect one night stand — seriously, I’ve never had anyone better.”
But Y/N didn’t care for that.
She was a serial monogamous, always bumping around from one lengthy relationship to the next. In hindsight, she supposes she wasn’t any better than Harry, who earned his notoriety from a series — a long series — of casual hookups.
If you needed a rebound, you went to Harry.
If you were going through a dry spell, you went to Harry.
If you were just horny and needed someone to go home with at the end of the night (and he hadn’t miraculously already found somebody else yet), you went to Harry.
And Y/N never planned to sleep with him. Ever, really. He was a fine friend, someone who mixed well with their mutual friends, but they hardly exchanged conversation except for the occasional nicetie. She had his phone number from when he planned Rachel’s surprise birthday party last year and they were friends on Venmo, passing back the same $20 every month for drinks or a shared Uber.
That was the extent of their friendship.
Until a few months back, when Y/N was down in the dumps. She’d been seeing this girl, Samantha, for a month or two, assuming that they were headed straight towards a happy, exclusive relationship — only to discover that Samantha was sleeping with and seeing just about 10 other people on the side. And it only came out because Samantha happened to contract chlamydia from one of her sexual partners, so she’d been forced to tell Y/N for the sake of her health.
Y/N's friends, Rachel, Maeve, and Len gave her time to wallow. They offered it to her on a silver platter, even, offering multiple girls nights out (and in), providing Y/N all the space she needed to cry and complain and talk about how hurt she felt.
But then… a week of moping turned into two, which turned into three, which eventually turned into a month and a half. Her friends were exhausted from watching her spiral into sadness, so they did the only thing they knew: They sat her down and told her she needed to rebound. Fast.
“And who the hell am I supposed to rebound with?” Y/N asked through a sniffle. The only thing that made this whole thing worse was her friends staging an intervention for her because she was being annoyingly sad about her not-really-breakup-but-felt-like-a-breakup.
“See, that’s the best part of being friends with a man whore,” Maeve replied eagerly. Len and Rachel sat on either side of her with bright eyes, nodding excitedly. “Harry! He already said he’s down and everything!”
“Wait— you already asked him?”
“We just put the idea in his head. Don’t worry, men are stupid,” Len quickly waved her off, “But he’s going out with everyone tonight. We’ll feed you a few shots to get you just buzzy enough, and then send you off to your night in heaven. You won’t even remember that girl’s name by the time Harry’s done with you!”
Y/N cringed. “Hasn’t, like… everyone slept with him though?”
Maeve shrugged. “Yeah, but he’s clean. He gets regular testing and uses condoms. Really, Y/N, it’s sort of a rite of passage at this point. But you should do it only if you’re comfortable— don’t let us force you into it.”
Y/N swallowed tightly. She had to admit, the thought of a rebound sounded… appealing. She’d swiped through dating apps looking for one, but she was too scared that a one night stand would end in her bloody murder. And it helped that Harry already knew what he was doing, and— wait, was she crazy or was she actually starting to consider this?
“Alright, fine,” she replied with a shaky exhale, “Let’s do this.”
That was four months ago.
And what was supposed to be an evening of stupid, lusty, casual sex turned into Y/N falling hard. It wasn’t her fault, though — no, not when he panted breathy promises into her mouth in the back of the Uber, mumblings of “just tonight, you know that, right?”. She’d replied just how she’d rehearsed it in her brain hours prior: “yes, yeah, I know— just tonight. Just for tonight.”
"Just for tonight" shifted into Harry asking her to stay until the morning for breakfast and shower sex. Then, the following weekend, he texted her the ever classy you still awake? at just past midnight. She was indeed up, doing nothing but rotting on her couch and watching a documentary about the deep sea — and her hookup with Harry had been good, really good, and she wasn’t going to turn down another night of orgasms.
As he wrapped a condom around his dick and pressed messy kisses down her neck, he whispered the same hurried sentiments from the weekend before: “didn’t see anyone I wanted tonight and we were good, yeah? It was good. So just… just one more night, okay? That’s fine, right?”
Foolishly, with flittering eyelashes and her nails scraping down her back as he pushed inside, she nodded and echoed his words. Just one more night, that’s fine.
It didn’t take long for their friends to catch on when Harry would leave the bar an hour early without looking for someone to take home. Or, when they’d both be out and, like magnets slowly being pulled towards one another, they’d end up kissing on the street as they waited for an Uber to take them back to Harry’s place.
The guys hounded Harry about it, asking if Y/N was finally the one to tie him down.
“Nah,” he’d reply with a shake of his head, “She’s a good girl. Too good for me.”
When Y/N’s friends demanded to know every last detail, she shrugged.
"I'm not really sure. It's... good, I think."
They only responded with small, tight smiles.
. . .
“Your mom texted me today. She invited us to come see them this weekend.”
Harry doesn’t reply — or rather, he makes an unassuming humming noise — as he gets out of Y/N’s bed, untangling his naked form from her sheets. He hunts down his briefs and pulls them on before stretching his arms out.
“Did you eat dinner?” he asks, grabbing her tee-shirt off the floor and tossing it to her. She sits up, tightening the sheet around her chest. She shakes her head as she clutches the fabric of her shirt in her hands and watches him scroll on his phone.
“No. I thought we could get something.”
Harry hums again, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. Swallowing, Y/N puts her shirt back on. She’s not sure why, but she always feels oddly vulnerable once they’ve finished hooking up. When she’s still naked and he’s already moved onto the next thing, like having plans with the guys or taking a shower before he heads home. She'd even purchased his favorite body wash and shampoo when he started sticking around a bit longer, but he'd never even mentioned it or uttered a thank you.
“Yeah, maybe,” he finally replies. He locks his phone and places it back on the ledge of the TV stand in her bedroom. The simple act makes her heart jump — usually, he’ll stuff his phone in his pocket as he’s leaving. Maybe he was planning on staying the night. “So listen, I know I took you to dinner at my parents’ place that one time, but I don’t really feel comfortable with you talking to my mom.”
Y/N furrows her brows in confusion. “She texted me, H. I don’t, like, regularly reach out to her.”
“Right, but it just makes this whole thing feel way more serious than it is.” he says, sitting back down on the bed. He maintains a steady distance between them and it makes a small lump form in Y/N’s throat.
“Okay,” she murmurs slowly, “That’s fine, I get it. But… we never really talked about what this is.”
Harry glances up with wide, confused eyes. “We’ve said it a million times, Y/N. This is casual. Completely and totally casual sex.”
An ugly, involuntary chortle leaves her chest. He raises his eyebrows.
“We’ve been fucking for four months. That’s not really casual.”
“Yes, it is. It’s friends with benefits.”
“Sure, maybe, but that’s if you explicitly outline that you’re just having sex. No feelings involved.”
“We did that.”
“When?”
“At the beginning,” Harry responds. He seems frustrated now, but it feels as though he’s recalling a memory that Y/N was never even around for. “Remember? I told you, it was all just for tonight type shit. Nothing real.”
“Then why the fuck did you take me to your parents’ house two months ago?” Y/N demands, anger rising in her chest, “And why am I your date to all of your stupid, boring work events? And why the hell are you at my house like four times a week, and why do you have a drawer full of my clothes at your place?”
“Y/N—”
“This isn’t fucking casual, Harry. This is dating. You’re dating me and you don't even realize it.”
“I would know if I was dating you, but I never asked you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want a girlfriend, you know that.”
She groans and shakes her head, ignoring the way her jaw already aches from clenching it so hard. She grabs a clear pair of underwear from her drawer and quickly slips them on. Harry’s silent the entire time.
Suddenly, she whips around and faces him. “Have you been fucking other people?”
A wrinkle forms between his brows. He shakes his head.
“No. I wouldn’t do that, and it’s unsafe.”
“Right,” she murmurs, placing her hands on her hips, “So piece it together, Harry. Neither of us are sleeping with other people. We’re exclusively seeing one another.”
“You’re just making this out to be way more of a thing than it is—”
“Oh, fuck off!” she exclaims, “You have a key to my house! That’s pretty serious!”
“I didn’t ask you for that!” he fires back as he stands up from the bed. They’re in a stand-off now, staring at one another with angry eyes. She snorts and shakes her head in disbelief.
“My friends were so fucking right about you. You’re such an asshole. You know Maeve called me a loser for thinking you were a good guy?”
Harry rolls his eyes as he grabs his phone and sweater, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
They don’t exchange any other words as he leaves her room. She sits back down on the edge of the mattress, listening as he stuffs his feet in his sneakers and slams the front door shut. She doesn’t even notice that tears are lining her eyes and falling onto the apples of her cheeks.
. . .
It’s barely 48 hours later when Y/N’s watching a YouTube video as she stands in the bathroom, doing her nighttime routine.
Like four months prior, when she hoped Harry would be a good rebound for her heartbreak, she's been moping around in self-hatred and sadness. She's in awe of how cruel and oblivious he's being, but more than that, she can't believe she actually believed he had real feelings for her. Ones that extended beyond sex.
She’s brushing her teeth when she notices a text notification come down, redirecting her attention from the influencer vlog to read the name of the sender. She taps on it to see a familiar initial.
From: H (10:32 p.m.)
Sorry for what I said. Can I come over?
#writing#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanficton#harry styles one direction#harry styles x reader#harry styles x oc#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles one-shot#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fanfiction#one direction#harry's house#⭐️#yes I just had to re-size that banner and reupload
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maybe try writing him a note next time idk
#he does but he writes so aggressively it comes out illegible#also scary looking#shouto prob looks at it and is like#is this… a ransom note#katsuki thinks he’s been rejected when theres no response#then shouto just confesses one day#totally unrelated to all of his attempts lol#what a loser#my art#digital art#mha#bnha#tdbk#bktd#todobaku#i like them too#mainly for the no angst fluff comedy scenarios that ensue
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Imagine
After hundreds of years, since you've died, Zhongli's wedding ring breaks.
He has taken great care of it, but time thinned it out, for he has worn it every day since you two have pledged yourself to each other. He's heartbroken, his voice wavering, every time he looks at the imprint it left on his ring finger. The band was well worn, worn with pride and solemn, but now nothing more than a mark and reminder of your wedding.
And once again, he's lost a small bit of you, that he misses so dearly.
#I FOUND IT#I FOUND ONE OF MY MOST FAVOURITE THINGS IVE WRITTEN#so I’ve been scavenging my mutuals blogs to copy/paste/repost my writing here again#i don’t want to gatekeep a concept but just for this one please don’t make works without asking and crediting me#this one is rather special to me and I also think it does well enough on its own#zhongli fluff#zhongli angst#zhongli x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact angst#genshin x reader#genshin angst#illunis’ scribbles
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❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞
❥ pairing: valentines jason todd x f!reader
❥ summary: this is your first valentine's day with jason after well he died and came back, he needs everything to be perfect for you to make for all the lost time.
❥ warnings: bit of angst, mentions of abuse/torture, tons of fluff & smut, unapproving dad Bruce Wayne
❥ wc: 4.3k
"Jason stop it, c'mon Bruce is going to catch us" you squealed, while your boyfriend pressed kisses all over your neck. "I don't want you to get banned from seeing me again, especially with Valentine's upcoming!"
Jason groaned and lifted his head up from your hickey-stained neck. "Even if Bruce does ban me, there's no way in hell I'm missing our first Valentine's," Jason says, laying his head on your chest. The two of you comfortably lay in your bed, cuddling while your parents were asleep a couple doors down.
You'd grown up with Jason, you'd always known him as a troublesome kid but that didn't stop you from developing a crush on the guy. You never thought of saying anything until you learned he'd gotten adopted after his dad kinda just disappeared.
For weeks you'd missed him, you missed how dumb antics, you missed the way he was always following you around and you missed his dumb smile. God, you loved that cheesy grin he always gave you..
Until one day he appeared on your doorstep, telling you that Bruce, his new dad was finally allowing him to visit his old friends. You thought he'd forgotten you but it was far from it and you knew then and there you definitely had a thing for Jason Todd.
It still took a while for either of you to confess your feelings. You thought you would crack first but Jason did instead when he learned that some guy from your school had a crush on you. He didn't mean for it to come out but he was just so jealous, "Why go out with him when you have me huh? I'd make a much better boyfriend. Just go out with me"
He wasn't wrong because he did, a week later you were on the best date of your life. Jason took you to this amazing amusement park that was happening in the middle of Gotham City. The whole night was spent on games and junk food, and Jason Todd got his kiss on the cheek that wasn't from Barbara.
Over time your relationship developed into something more, you couldn't help but spend more and more time with him. He eventually asked you to be his girlfriend and you've been his ever since.
"Well, I don't want to risk it okay? You need to get home before Bruce notices, don't you guys have patrol tonight"
"Okay fine, fine but first, I have something for you princess"
You watch as Jason pulls out what looks to be a ring box. "Woah, wash slow your roll buster, we are only 15 you can't freaking propose!" you whisper scream, praying that your shock wouldn't wake up your parents.
"Princess calm down, it's just a promise ring," Jason said rolling his eyes as if this was normal. "I wanted to give it to you before our date tomorrow, so you'll already be wearing it"
Jason sat up a bit and cleared his throat while he looked at you nervously, "I'm not sure if I've made this clear but…I love you y/n. Like really love you and you're the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with. So I got this promise ring, it's like a sign of me promising myself to you if that makes any sense"
"You love me?"
"Yes, I love you y/n and you don't have to say it back okay? We're young, I have years to come to hear you say it"
You were silent as he slipped the ring on your finger. You could tell from the moment he opened the box it wasn't cheap but you couldn't complain he bought it for you. Because he loved you. And you wanted to say it back but you were scared, scared to fully accept that you loved him.
Jason didn't care if you said it back or not because, in his eyes, you were the only one who accepted him. He looked at you sweetly and gave you a soft smile before getting out of your bed and heading towards your window. Now was the time to say it, to tell him you loved him but you just couldn't m
"I'll see you tomorrow okay sweetheart? I'll pick you up at 7" He says climbing out the window with one of his cheesy grins.
At the age of 15, you'd never be happier to be young and stupidly in love with Jason Todd. Ever since he moved in with Bruce, the two of you didn't get to see each other a lot, and that caused tension between him and Bruce. Jason believed he deserved a later curfew so he could visit you but Bruce was against it, he didn't think it was safe.
Tonight Jason snuck out to see you, the two of you had Valentine's Day plans and wanted to confirm them and we'll spend time with you. You were his world, you were one of the biggest reasons he became Robin. You were the one he wanted to protect no matter what and you knew that.
What you didn't know was this would be the last time you'd ever see Jason at least until you saw his casket. The two of you never celebrated your first Valentine's and you never got to tell Jason how much he meant to you. You never got to tell him how stupid he was for sneaking out, how much you didn't deserve this wrong, and that you did love him back.
7 years later
Everything had to be perfect.
Currently, it was February 14th and Jason had woken up with what was probably the worst news he could've gotten over a phone call.
Dear Mr.Todd, we're sorry to bother you on such a busy day but your reservation at Gotham Restaurant has been canceled due to a surge of higher-paying customers. We can reschedule your reservation for free at any time. We are sorry for this inconvenience.
"You're kidding me right!" Jason yelled, banging his fist against the wall. Out of a day, it had to snow today huh? Your first Valentine's since the two of you got back together. The first Valentine's since he died. Jason had never been able to give you the Valentines you deserved and when the two of you got back together, he immediately started planning.
"No Sir, we are very sorry for this inconvenience and we can try and get you another reservation elsewhere but-"
"Nowhere else is going to have any free spot and even ignoring that my girlfriend wants to go the Gotham Restaurant not anywhere else"
Well, that is what you had told him when he asked what restaurant would you like to go to that you hadn't been to yet. This wasn't how today was supposed to go. Jason had the whole day planned out. What should've been waking up in his followed by breakfast in bed, shopping, lunch, more shopping, dinner at your favorite place, a movie, dessert at your favorite ice cream shop, and ending with hopefully some cuddling if you didn't mind was now all ruined.
Jason had needed today to be perfect especially after you got over the fact that your dead boyfriend was not only alive but also vililangte who was formerly a crime lord. The fact you still wanted to be with him after all this time bewildered him this led him to believe he was probably on thin ice with you so today had to be perfect.
Since it was already Valentine's Day he knew no other restaurant would have any space for a reservation so that meant he'd probably have to cook the two of you dinner. Jason had quite the stocked fridge so he didn't see it as a bad idea but he knew you'd be disappointed for sure.
His entire relationship was riding on today being perfect and it was already failing. While Jason tried to get dressed he quickly noticed that it was already passed 8 o'clock. He was late, He said he'd make you breakfast in bed at 8 which made him late. Could today get any worse?
And it did when you told him you wouldn't eat breakfast with him because your boss really needed you at work for a couple of hours and he had already been on his way to your apartment. "I'll be back early enough for us to go shopping, and go to the restaurant. mkay? I guess we'll have to miss the movie" you said through the phone while simultaneously getting dressed for work. "Can't wait to go the Gotham Restaurant, can't believe you got us a reservation babe."
"Yeah about that…" Jason couldn't do this, he couldn't tell you that actually, you guys weren't getting dinner anywhere and that he was going to cook at home. You sounded so excited and so happy and he didn't want to be the reason that went away. "You'll love it alright. I'll pick you up from work around 6 for your shopping spree and then we'll get dinner"
"Jay I don't need to go shopping, dinner is enough really-"
"I want to take you shopping okay? I have enough saved up to spoil you and that's what I plan to do sweetheart"
Your heart hummed at the word sweetheart. It had been so long since Jason had called you that. It felt surreal because at times he didn't feel like Jason, well not like your Jason. The Jason who kissed you like his life depended on it, the Jason who was obsessed with holding your hand, the Jason who told you he loved you.
When Bruce called you and told you Jason was alive you didn't believe him. Jason was dead, you were at the funeral just like everyone else and knew how he died. A small part of you blame Bruce, this wouldn't have happened to Dick and even if it did he would've found him. Bruce tried telling you a couple more times but you ignored him. Your boyfriend, no your Jason was dead. The next time you hear about it was from Dick because Jason was out for blood. Joker's if we had to be specific.
You didn't want to believe him but Dick had loved Jason like they were biological brothers and you knew he wouldn't lie. He warned you that Jason was different and that I should be wary of him.
You took his advice and made sure not to walk home alone and tried not to go out at night but one day you had a rough day at work and you decided to visit Jason's grave. You left red dahlias on his tombstone and sat down next to it. You started talking to it about how your boss yelled at you and called you incompetent. "You would have called him an asshole for that if you were here," You told him how much you missed him. You knew he was alive but it felt so much easier talking to the tombstone because it felt like he was really there.
You did this consistently for about 2 months, you had caught on that someone was watching you. It was Dick because when you did actually see the figure they were much taller than Dick and they stayed hidden, Dick wouldn't have a reason to do that. It made sense to alert Dick but you didn't because you knew who it was and you weren't ready to face him.
Eventually, you heard from Dick that Jason had changed and that maybe you should talk to him but you still needed time. That didn't stop Jason from approaching you at your apartment. You were startled because your little high school boyfriend was suddenly 6 feet and over 200 pounds. He was practically all muscle and you were kinda scared. That didn't stop you from crying in his arms.
It took a while for the two of you to adjust to being in each other's lives especially when you never stopped having feelings for him. When you admitted that to him, he asked for a second chance. That he'd be yours even if you weren't his. So you let him be yours.
"Okayyy, I'll see you at 6 hun," you said just as you cut off the call.
Jason paces around his bedroom trying to figure out how the hell he was going to get the reservation back.
The two of you arrive at the mall, and you wait while Jason parks his motorcycle. It was shocking how there were barely any cars in the lot. Jason assumed that maybe people were just busy cause of Valentine's. You were so excited to go in that you ran over to the doors to get inside except you couldn't.
Closed for Construction, the sign read.
Jason didn't think today could get worse but it did. "No no no! This wasn't supposed to be Damn it!" He said angrily. He had even called the building, they were supposed to be opened. Construction wasn't for another 2 weeks, it was just his luck that they decided to start early. "Jason it's fine, I told you I don't need to go shopping. It was very thoughtful of you though to want to spoil me but you're already getting me dinner at the best restaurant in the city"
"There is no dinner! Our reservation got fucking and canceled and…Today is ruined y/n. Let me just take you home."
"Jason why didn't you tell me, I can promise you today is not ruined. Jay, are you even listening to me?"
Jason was hardly processing your words though because all he could think was losing you. You would dump him and he would go back to hating himself and his very existence. Would life go back to being a reminder that he died? He was tortured endlessly until he was finally out of his misery. No matter how hard the Joker tried to convince him that you hated him he wouldn't believe him. The part of you wearing his promise ring is what kept him going. What got him through the beating. What made it easier to look at the scars.
What left did he have if he wasn't able to love you. He was yours, he didn't know how to love others and he didn't want to because he would always love you. When he was watching you he realized that even though it had been 7 years you were still the same.
Still had the pretty smile and that contagious laugh, still had a knack for books and enjoyed it. You were still his, at least he believed so. And the one thing you asked him, he couldn't deliver. You messed up your first Valentine's and now he was going to mess up this one too.
"Jay for fucks sake, would you look at me!!"
Jason wasn't sure if it was that cursing that made him snap out of his spiral or maybe it was the fact that you were holding his hands. It had only been 2 weeks since he reintroduced himself into your life, and had been avoiding affection. He knew it was cause he was so big now and you were a bit scared. But right now you weren't. You were holding your hands with his. You were looking at him with what looked like pain and so much regret but you were smiling at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Just shut up okay? And listen to what I have to say"
After you had finally managed to calm him down you knew you needed to tell d him how you had felt. "When I lost you, I regretted so much Jay but what I regretted most was not telling you that I loved you and it hurt. It hurt knowing Joker had you and that you were in pain but what hurt more was that you were really gone."
You paused and slowed your breath a bit.
"I know it seems like you owe me something like you need to make up for lost time or show me you're worth love but I already know that Jay. I've been yours since we were kids, m'kay? "
"But I do owe you, I owe you the goddamn world if possible"
"For what Jay?"
"Accepting me again I know I'm different than I'm used to be. I'm more shut out and I know I definitely look different. There is so much you accepted just cause I love you"
You groaned annoyingly and raised your hand up and shook it in his face, "Have you even noticed that I'm still wearing this promise ring? The one you gave me?"
Jason had, you wondered why you still wore it. It was so tiny and was probably uncomfortable. It was a tiny gold band, he had paid Selina for that had a diamond on it. To others, it clearly looked like it could be an engagement ring and you still wore it because you still, did being to someone whether was dead or alive. People tried to convince you to move on and take off the ring but you didn't listen.
"You still have it..."
"Mhmm, believe me now?"
"How about we get dinner to go at some random place, come to my place and we'll eat and cuddle while watching some movies"
"You're okay with just that?"
"I'm okay with anything as long as I'm doing it with you Jay, that's the whole point"
Jason smiled and held you in his arms, "can't believe you're still all mine"
"C'mon let's go to the movie theater and see what they've got"
And that's exactly what you did.
The two of you were cozied up on your bed, with a bunch of food. Jason bought himself chili dogs and got you pancakes to make up for breakfast. Who knew pancakes tasted better at night?
Jason also bought 2 tubs of Ice Cream to substitute as dessert. You may not be eating at that fancy restaurant but you were still having the time of your life.
" I swear you hated chili dogs when I was alive?!"
"I always liked them I just never wanted to admit it else that would've been the only food we'd ever eat"
While the TV played in the background you looked over at Jason who looked the happiest he'd been all day. There he was, your Jason. He was there, under all those scars he was still there. Jason noticed you were staring you looked over at you, and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips. "I've missed the taste of your lips" he whispered quietly
He kissed you again and this time you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. "I've missed you, Jay," you said in response. Jason didn't hands on his way to your hips and he pulled you closer, right onto his lap. You still hadn't adjusted to Jason being so big, so when your hands found your way to his muscles you were surprised to feel him groan while you felt him up a bit.
"Sweetheart, if you keep this up I'm going to do something you might regret"
"I didn't regret my first time with you, I'm not going to regret it now babe"
He groaned again this time grinding his hips upwards against yours. Jason swiftly switches your position, putting you underneath him. His kisses quickly became more eager while his hips rutted into you, "Baby, I don't have any-"
"Don't need it, got on the pill a couple years back" you said softly, gripping his shirt. "I promise I want this, so let's get these out for he was please?"
Your pleas were enough for Jason to take off your dress, you'd worn a red satin dress. He'd always liked you in red, especially when it was just for him. Jason had on a tux except he replaced the jacket with his favorite leather one. Regardless, he still looked so good, as he always did.
His leather jacket was already on your bedroom floor, you tried to undress him but he stopped you. "The scars…I don't want to scare you again"
"You won't, I promise. I'll even kiss them, they're a part of you Jay and you're mine" you say tugging on his shirt. With a sigh, he silently takes off his shirt. You raise your hand to touch him but stop and make sure it is okay. He doesn't verbally answer but he gives you a nod. You trace his scars with your finger but one sticks out the most, his neck scar.
You move your face closer to his neck, and kiss his scar, "You're still as beautiful as ever, you're still my Jason" you say while you pull away from his neck. Before you can even read his reaction, Jason kisses you again, rough and with more of a need. Jason had told you he'd met other people but in the end, he could ever think of you. You were the only person who made it just for him.
You'd had your own set of boyfriends which all seemed to end up the same, they'd get too close and you'd dump them. You couldn't imagine loving anybody the way you loved Jason. Jason's body pressed against yours with his hand on your back, pushing you into him. Your hands made your way to his pants, tugging at the waistband. "Patient baby, I'll take em off for you"
The sound of a belt hit your floor but you didn't care, you kept kissing him like your life depended on it. You didn't fully remember when Jason took off your underwear but you remember him, "Jay when did get so..."
"big?" he finished for you with a chuckle, "Yeah, there's a lot you're going to have to get used to with me" His tip pressed at your cunt, earning a disapproving groan for you. You didn't like how slow he was going, you knew he was doing it because he didn't want to hurt you but you weren't 15 anymore you could take it.
You wrap one leg around his waist pushing against his back. Jason liked the way you squirmed underneath him, practically begging for him to fuck you. After a couple minutes, he gave in and sunk his cock right into you. Your nails dug into his back, feeling the stretch of his cock inside you. You felt so embarrared you came on his cock from just him entering"
"Did you just-"
"Shut up please"
Jason looked down at you, his cheeks flushed red, while he was breathing very quickly
"Jay why aren't you moving"
"Can't baby"
"What do you mean you can't?"
"I mean if I move, I'm going to cum on the spot sweetheart so please bare with me" he groaned out, trying to adjust to your warm cunt hugging his cock. Slowly he began to move, using one hand to grip the sheets in hopes he wouldn't blow his load too quickly. His other hand was on his hip, trying to steady your body. Your hands were on his face, caressing his cheeks. Whenever he blushed it was so obvious, you used to tease him all about it even though you loved it.
He down to capture your lips again, allowing your arms to find themselves around his neck. Each thrust was messier than the last, getting rougher after each second. Sex now was so much more different than when the two of you were teens. Jason did things you didn't even know he could do. Once he'd found your g-stop he began to abuse it, earning a chocked moan from you every time. He was studying what you liked, what made you feel good and you loved him.
He let go of the sheets and placed both hands on your hips, giving you even tougher thrusts and even biting on your neck. Your entire body was on fire, you were overwhelmed notnonkynfrom his size but the feeling of Jason's body pressing into yours. You couldn't feel so good.
You always knew Jason was a bitter, also long as he didn't draw too much blood you were alright with it. A soft moan left your mouth as you came again, cum running down your thighs while Jason continued to fuck you. Jason thought about overstimming, making you beg for him to stop because you'd feel too good.
"Didn't know my girl was into biting" He said, while lifting up one of your legs to push deeper into you. You'd cum for tbr second time but he needed you cum one last time at least before he came. The rough slaps of skin and moans filled the room. Making it hard for you to not cum again on the spot. You felt so good you couldn't even complain that he was teasing you "Fuck you're really sensitive sweetheart"
You hid your face in the crook of his neck while his hips pounded into yours. Your legs shook while you whispered in his ear, "If you don't stop m'gonna cum again, Jay pleaseeeee"
He didn't stop though, instead, you came another two times. Makes a mess of cock. "Such a good girl f'me, just let me fill you up and we'll be done. I promise sweetheart" He gripped your hips tightly before releasing inside you. The two of you exchanged a couple more kisses while you both rode out your orgasms.
You whimpered while he pulled out of you, missing his warmth already. He watched as his cum poured out of you, dripping on the sheets. You laid back on the bed, while he hovered over you for a brief moment.
Once he laid down next to you and though he was panting he pulled your body onto his lap. You rested your head on his chest just as he used to do to you. That reminded you, there was something you needed to say, "Jay can I say something I've been holding in for a long time, yeah?"
"Mhmm, what is it, sweetheart?"
"Jason Peter Todd, I love you"
❥ a/n: happy valentine's to all my lovelies!! i hope everyone enjoys this fic and also has a nice valentines day, whether it's with someone or by themselves. this also is a gift to my bf who is my sweetheart.
❥ taglist: @meowkn, @kazzattack, @woodenanemone, @yourlocalcringydaydreamer , @orchidsangel, @jason-anon , @millyhelp, @gleasonlovesjasontodd
#✩ kleo's kollection ✩#✩ oh you just love me don't you ✩#jason todd valentine's day#jason todd#jason todd angst#jason todd smut#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd is red hood#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x female reader#red hood x you#red hood x reader#red hood x y/n#red hood angst#red hood fluff#red hood smut#dc comics#dc x y/n#dc x you#dc x reader
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Max Verstappen x reader // Strawberry Wine Pt. III
Strawberry Wine Series // Masterlist
Part Three of Strawberry Wine
Summary: Max wakes up alone. He finds himself wishing the night before had been a bad dream. Title from Strawberry Wine by Noah Kahan Word Count: 6.1k
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, sexually suggestive content, ANGST (happy ending I swear)
Max sits on the edge of the bed and stares at the wall. The room is shockingly empty. Just last night, you were in bed next to him. When he’d closed his eyes, he’d pretended everything was alright. He’d listened to the sound of your slow, even breaths and pretended you were asleep, not laying awake just like he was. Eventually, between that and the utter exhaustion of the day, he’d fallen asleep.
He just hadn’t expected to wake up alone.
Sure, you’d tried to leave the night before. Tried to go stay with your friend, to give him space. We need space, I think. But he’d talked you into staying, insisting it was your home, too, and that you were being ridiculous. He’d hoped in the morning things would be okay, that clearer heads would prevail. Or that it would all turn out to be some horrible dream. Now the sheets are cold and the bed is empty, and your tears stain the pillowcase.
Your stuff is still there, at least most of it, which is a mild comfort. He sees your clothes in the closet, your slippers near the door where he always trips over them, your jewelry box on the dresser. He wonders if the wine cork is still in the drawer. God, he hopes it is. But you’re gone. Your phone charger, always left plugged in on the nightstand, is missing. Your favorite jacket, the one that hangs on the back of the bedroom door, is gone. The sheets are cold. The bed is empty.
He’s not sure what went wrong. Not sure how to fix this, or if he even can. He just knows it feels like he’s being torn apart at the seams. He stares at the wall and thinks. He thinks of you on the balcony, your head on his shoulder. The two of you on the streets of Monaco, plastic cups full of strawberry wine. He thinks of winning a race and you, leaning over the barricade to hug him, the smell of your perfume washing over him like a blanket. He thinks of the tray of corks in his bedside drawer, of the little square box hidden behind them, a question and a promise rolled up into one piece of jewelry.
He thinks of all of this, and then he lays back down in bed and cries himself to sleep.
The sheets still smell like you. He wonders, distantly, how long it will take for that to fade.
…..
You sit on your friend Audrey’s couch with a massive headache and a shake in your hands that won’t go away. You try to convince yourself it’s the caffeine- the espresso from the cafe on the way here, the cup of coffee you’ve had since you showed up. It’s not the regret, the awful feeling you’ve made a mistake that’s making you shaky. It’s the coffee.
Audrey is moving around in the kitchen. She hasn’t said a word since you sat down and admitted it.
I asked him for a break, you’d said.
She’d poured a cup of coffee and set it down in front of you. You drank it black, thinking of how Max always knows how you take your coffee and always makes it perfectly. Then she disappeared into the kitchen. You know she’s not happy with you. She’s the only one you’ve confided in about this- all your other friends were Max’s friends first, but Audrey is yours. You’ve taken absolutely none of her advice, which is what got you to this point.
“What did you tell him?” She finally asks.
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Does it matter?”
“Did you lie?” She asks.
She must take your silence for the answer that it is- yes. She comes back into the living room and leans against the back of the armchair, staring at you. You bury your face in your hands.
“I told him I needed space,” you say. “That… I was feeling uncertain about us and I needed to be on my own for a bit.”
She sighs heavily. “So you lied.”
“I’m trying to protect him,” you mutter.
“Right. By breaking his heart.” She retorts.
“Audrey,” you snap, curling further in on yourself. “Please.”
She sighs again. She does that, when she’s not sure what else to say. You don’t think there’s anything she could say to make it better. Instead, she walks over to the couch and sits down next to you. You lean into her shoulder and let the sobs take over.
…..
Two weeks go by before you see Max again. It’s easy to avoid him. He’s always gone anyways. You’re strategic about going and getting stuff from your shared apartment. You know his schedule, know when he’ll be in town. His calendar is still shared with you, the one his assistant keeps updated with his every move.
Which is why, when you’re standing in your bedroom packing up more clothes and you hear the front door open, you know he’s caught on. He must know you’ve been using the calendar. The one that says he’s in Milton Keynes for two more days. It's either that, or someone’s broken in. You hear him stumble over your shoes and curse under his breath and you know his voice. It makes you feel sick to your stomach.
You step into the living room and come face to face with him. He’s standing across the room, smiling softly at you. There’s a paper bag in his hand from his favorite Italian place. In his other hand is a bag that you just know holds a bottle of strawberry wine. The sight of it is like a sharp stab to your rib cage.
“Hi,”’he says, softly. “Dinner?”
You blink at him, wide eyed. “How’d you know I was here?”
He gestures at the door. “We have the security camera doorbell, remember?”
And yeah, of course. He gets notifications every time there’s movement at the front door. He’ll use it to say hello to you when he’s miles upon miles away and you’re just getting home from work. Of course he’d still be getting the notifications.
“You’re supposed to be at the factory,” you say.
He shrugs. “Plans changed. I’m here. Dinner?”
There’s this hopeful look in his eyes that is absolutely tearing you apart. He’s not smiling, not frowning, completely neutral. He’s trying so hard to be unreadable, but you know him too well.
The truth is that you do want to have dinner with him. You want nothing more than to sit down at the kitchen island in your usual spots. You want to feel his knee bump against yours while you eat pasta and fight over the last piece of garlic bread. You want to drink that stupid strawberry wine until you’re drunk and fall into bed with him and pretend like nothing ever happened. Like nothing is wrong. Like you never asked for a break. And you know you could- you could say it right here and he’d act like nothing had changed.
“I’m just here to grab some stuff,” you tell him, letting your hands hang at your sides. “I’m staying at Audrey’s.”
He tries not to let the disappointment show on his face. You see it anyways, the way you always see him. After nearly a year and a half together, you can’t help it. You turn around, back towards the bedroom, back to your stuff stacked neatly on the unmade bed. You pack it into your duffel bag and head for the door.
“Are you coming to Monaco?” He asks when you place your hand on the doorknob.
For a moment you’re confused, because you’re in Monaco, but then you realize he means the Grand Prix. It’s less than a week away. As his girlfriend, you’re expected to make an appearance. You turn towards him and lean your back against the door.
“Space, Max,” you remind him, hating that you have to break his heart all over again.
He’s sitting at the island, on his usual stool, far too much garlic bread in front of him. He nods solemnly.
“Right. But if you don’t come, people will wonder what’s going on,” he says. “Our friends, the press, the-“ he waves his hands around wildly. “People.”
“You haven’t told them?”
“The press?”
“No. Our friends,” you say.
He shrugs, shoves his food around on his plate. He looks small. You hate it. You hate that it’s your fault. Your hands start to shake again.
“No,” he admits. “You said… a break, space. I didn’t know…” he huffs. “I didn’t want to tell them unless it was permanent.”
He looks up at you, then, and scrubs at his jaw. There’s stubble there, and there are bags under his eyes. God, you hate yourself for it. You hate the way he doesn’t hate you, the way you can still see the love in his eyes. You hate the worry in his gaze, like he thinks you might end things right then and there.
“Max, I don’t-“ your chest feels tight. “I don’t know.”
“Okay,” he says. “That’s okay, schat. But if you don’t go to the race…”
You sigh, haul your duffel bag over your shoulder. “I’ll be there.”
You leave the apartment before he can say anything else.
…..
Audrey takes your phone from you one night, while you’re crying on her couch after watching a very bad romantic comedy. She deletes every social media app off your phone. It’s nice of her to try. You attempt to go along with it at first. But soon you’re using the browser to check what they’re saying about you on twitter, to read the Instagram comments about how your boyfriend could do better. You’re over analyzing gossip accounts, trying to see if they can tell that you and Max are taking a break.
Two days in, you redownload all the apps. If you’re going to look at it, you might as well make it easier.
…..
“Have you told them?” Max asks you.
You’re standing shoulder to shoulder with him in the Red Bull hospitality. Your friends are huddled in the corner, raiding the snack bar. You turn and look up at him. He’s not looking back at you.
“D’you think I’d be here if I had?” You ask dryly.
He shrugs.
You turn and look back at your friends. “Have you told anyone?”
He gives you a short nod. “Daniel. He… is perceptive. I didn’t want to lie to him.”
Frankly, Max has every right to tell whoever he wants. You can’t expect him to stay quiet about it forever, no matter how well he seems to be handling it. And it’s been nearly three weeks now. Eventually, you’re going to have to admit it to your friends. It’s a bit unfair, really, that you haven’t told them. Max should be getting their sympathy. But when you think about admitting it to your friends, the ones who say you and Max are destined to be together, you feel sick to your stomach.
What’s even more unfair is that you haven’t given him a firm answer, either. You’re just keeping him there, keeping him hanging on. You need to make a decision, and soon. Just not before the race.
“I’ll figure it all out,” you promise. “And I can go if you don’t want me here-“
“I always want you here,” Max says, and your heart clenches in your chest.
You’re lucky Max isn’t big on PDA. You’ll be able to make it through the weekend without drawing much suspicion. But you find yourself missing the weight of his hand on the small of your back as you walk through the paddock. There are gaps between your fingers where his are supposed to fit. You feel it now more than ever.
…..
Daniel corners you on Saturday afternoon. Really, you should’ve seen this coming a long time ago. In the time you’ve been dating Max you’ve gotten to know the other drivers, and Daniel’s one you know quite well. He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into Max’s driver room, which is an overwhelming place for you to be. You can remember other races, when Max was the one pulling you in here for a quick makeout or just to spend time alone. Now, you’re being dragged into an interrogation.
“What the fuck?” Daniel asks, and you can’t help but laugh.
“Wanna be more specific?” You reply.
“You know what I’m asking,” he says. “Come on.”
“I really don’t, Daniel. What do you want to know? Are you asking why I’m here? Why I asked for a break?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Frankly, it’s none of your business-“
“It is my business, because he’s my friend and so are you. He told me why, I think it’s a load of bullshit,” he says.
The problem is… he’s not wrong.
“I think I’d know why,” you hiss.
“I see the way you look at him, it hasn’t changed.” Daniel has his arms crossed over his chest. “So what’s the real reason?”
“I’m feeling unsure about things. I needed space,” you insist.
Daniel is still blocking the door, arms crossed. He tilts his head at you, appraising. One of his dark brows twitches.
“You’re not sure about what? Your feelings for him?” He asks.
Your heart shatters in your chest. “Danny, stop, it’s not that easy-“
“No, come on. Things changed, yeah? Say it. You don’t love him anymore.” Daniel has fire in his eyes now. “Or if that’s not it, then tell me what it is.”
You stare at him, a bit dumbfounded. The truth is, you can’t say it. How could you not love Max? Just the thought of that feeling going away has you feeling awful all over again. You’re saved by a knock on the door.
“You’re in my driver room, you know,” Max calls out, and both you and Daniel deflate. “I shouldn’t even be asking, but can I come in?”
Daniel glares at you one last time and then opens the door. Max leans in, and his brows furrow when he catches sight of the two of you. You know you’re on the verge of tears. Max turns to Daniel, eyes wide.
“I told you not to do this,” Max scolds.
“We’re just talking,” Danny answers.
“She’s going to cry,” Max points out, sounding exasperated.
You roll your eyes and squeeze between the two of them. You head for the bathroom to clean yourself up. Behind you, the two of them are bickering in harsh whispers.
…..
You end up on the rooftop patio of the hotel you’re partying at after the Grand Prix. Max and your friends are somewhere downstairs. They’re drinking. You have been too- someone ordered shots for the table, then rounds of drinks. But what did you in was the strawberry wine your friends ordered specially for you and Max. You hadn’t been able to handle it anymore. At the first opportunity, you disappeared.
There aren’t any other people up here. It’s late, and if people are still up, they’re drinking and partying. So when the door swings open and you hear footfalls, you know who it is without even having to look. Max sits down next to you on the couch. You have your arms wrapped around your calves, face pressed into your knees. He doesn’t reach out to touch you. You’ve lost that privilege, it seems.
“Hi,” he says, softly. “You disappeared.”
You huff. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “But I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t come find you.”
You fight back the sob that threatens to wrench its way out of your throat. It turns into something halfway between a whimper and a groan. Max makes a sympathetic noise. You hate it. He should hate you. You turn your head towards him, eyeing his face through the blur of your tears.
“Well, I’m okay. You can go. Tell them I went to bed early or something,” you say.
Max stared at you. “You are obviously not okay.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not your problem right now,” you tell him. “So.”
“You’ve never been a problem, schat,” he says.
He says it like it’s so easy. Like it doesn’t make you feel physically ill. Like the way he calls you those affectionate names doesn’t make your skin burn. You press a hand over your mouth to cover the choked sob.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he says, softly. “You can talk to me.”
You can’t tell him. You broke the heart of the man you love. You lied to his face because you thought it would make it easier. And now you carry the guilt of it in every part of your body. It’s settled into the empty space behind your ribs. You stare at him from afar and wish you could hold his hand again. You taste strawberries and feel like throwing up. That first kiss in your apartment. The first bottle of strawberry wine you shared. The corks in his nightstand drawer.
“I can’t drink the wine anymore,” you tell him, and he frowns sympathetically. “The taste of it makes me feel sick.”
Max seems unsure of what to say. He reaches out, then, and places his hand on your knee. You flinch at the feeling. His thumb brushes against your skin, warm and soothing and terrifying. You don’t deserve it.
“And I know how unfair this is, because I’m the one who asked for this,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m the one who didn’t tell anyone and ended up here. I shouldn’t be the one who’s so upset about this.”
Max squeezes your knee. “You seem… heavy. Like there’s something weighing you down. I don’t hate you, you know. I don’t blame you. You need a break, okay. But you don’t have to shut me out completely.”
“Fuck, Max,” you choke out.
The sobs come easily now. They wrack your shoulders and steal the air from your lungs. You bury your face in your hands. He pulls you into his chest and tucks his head atop yours. It’s like that night on the balcony all that time ago, when he let you fall asleep against him and had you stay the night.
How does he not see it? Does he really think you want this? Maybe he’s fallen out of love with you. Maybe that’s why it’s easy for him to believe it. You think the ache in your chest will never go away. You gasp for air and breathe in his cologne and feel yourself tearing apart at the seams.
You cry harder when he presses his lips to your forehead and murmurs, “I’ve got you. You’re safe here.”
You push at his shoulder halfheartedly. “Don’t. Please don’t. I don’t deserve this.”
“What, schat?” He says, lips still pressed to your skin. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You still deserve love. Sweetheart, if you don’t want to be together anymore, if you don’t feel the same-“
“I do!” You gasp out, borderline hyperventilating. “I do, I still love you, Max, of course I-“
You break off into a sob, and he rocks you back and forth. His fingers press into your skin as he holds onto you tightly.
“I know,” he says, and the guilt rises in your chest. “I know you do. So how about you tell me what’s going on?”
You rear your head back to look him in the eye. He’s watching you, a calm, knowing look on his face. And really, you should’ve known. Max knows you better than anyone in the world. Of course he knows when you’re lying. He presses a hand to the side of your face, and you can’t help but melt into the touch. God, you’ve missed him so much.
“Max,” you try, rubbing your thumb on your own knee. “I don’t-“
“You can tell me,” he says, so gently, like you’re made of glass. “Please. You can tell me.”
You can feel him all around you. For the first time in weeks you feel safe.
“Just talk to me, please-“ he says, voice cracking. “I don’t want to lose you.”
You hate yourself for it. You wonder how many times you’ll have to break his heart.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” you say. “I really am, Max.”
You pull yourself out of his arms. You stand up and lean over him to press a kiss to his forehead. Then you walk away.
…..
You’re exhausted, constantly. Long weeks at work that consist of even longer days have you dragging your feet every time you come home. It’s a struggle to even make food for yourself, or do anything. Audrey’s generous enough to let you stay with her, even more generous as she does her best to take care of you. You’re falling apart. Anyone can see it. Your friends are catching on. They’re asking questions and whispering to each other about calling Max when they don’t think you can hear.
At night, when you close your eyes, all you see is him.
…..
Really, it’s your own stupid fault, you think. You’re in Monaco. Max lives here. It’s a small country. And Max’s friends live here too. So when you end up crying in the bathroom of a club, of course it’s Charles’ girlfriend who finds you. Of course she recognizes you and brings you to Charles with a worried look on her face. Of course you’re too upset to do anything but go with her. You’re not even sure why you’re crying at this point- you’re not that drunk. You think you just miss him, really. You’d gone out to try to get your mind off it. It hadn’t worked.
Charles takes one look at you and calls Max. You can’t exactly tell him not to without raising a whole bunch of questions. Max answers, because that’s just your luck, and within a few minutes Charles tells you he’ll be there soon to pick you up. Because of course he will. Because no matter how many times you break his heart, he’ll still come to your rescue.
It’s been almost a month now, since you asked for a break. Honestly, at this point, you’re just wishing he’d break up with you. You deserve that. He must be on the verge of it by now.
When you see Max’s car pull up outside of the club, you make your way over with a wave to Charles and his girlfriend. You nearly have a heart attack when you open the door and it’s not Max in the driver’s seat. It’s Daniel.
“Hi,” he says. “Heard you needed a ride.”
You blink, even as you sit down in the passenger seat. “Charles called Max.”
Daniel nods. “Yup. I was with Max. This,” he says, gesturing around at your surroundings, “seemed like a bad idea. So. I’m picking you up.”
You nod. “I didn’t ask him to call Max, you know. Just couldn’t exactly tell him not to.”
Daniel nods. “I know.”
He doesn’t ask where to take you. He also doesn’t head for your shared apartment with Max, which is likely where he was before this. Instead, he heads for one of few fast food restaurants in Monaco. In the empty drive thru, he orders and then looks at you expectantly. You just ask for a side of fries and a drink. It’ll help sober you up, which you figure is his point.
He pulls into a nearly empty parking lot and turns to you.
“Tell me,” he says, urgently. “I can help you figure this out. It’s not too late. But you have to tell me.”
You pick at your french fries, staring out of the front windshield. Danny may be driving, but this is Max’s car. You’ve sat shotgun here so many times- on late afternoon drives, on impromptu road trips, on rides home from galas that you didn’t belong at. You can hear Max telling you to buckle your seatbelt and you can almost feel his hand on your knee. God, you miss him.
“It’s not his fault,” you tell Daniel.
“Well, he thinks it is,” he answers. “Probably because you won’t give him a full answer.”
You burst into tears again at that. He hands you a napkin. Then he reaches for your hand.
“This isn’t you,” he says. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you love him. I’ve never seen two people who fit each other better. So tell me, or tell someone, or fuck, tell him. I don’t want to see him lose the best person he’s ever had over… something he doesn’t even understand.”
It hits you, then, like a tidal wave. You can’t lose him, either. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. How had you gone from strawberry wine and him walking you home to this? How could you have ended up here?
“This isn’t what I want,” you say, through your sobs. “I want Max. I didn’t want-“
Daniel squeezes your hand. “I’ll take you to him if you promise me you’ll talk about it. If you promise you’ll tell him what’s going on.”
You stare at your reflection in the windshield and wonder if you even deserve that chance. You’re almost positive you don’t, and even more sure that Max would give it to you anyways.
…..
You stumble into the warm apartment and nearly trip over your own shoes. You wonder, absentmindedly, if he’s left them there on purpose. If it would make it worse to move them.
He calls out from the bedroom. “Daniel?”
Daniel is behind you, shutting the door. “Max. I…”
“Is she okay?” Max asks, before he steps out into the living room. His eyes lock with yours. “Oh.”
“Hi,” you say.
“I’m going to go, so you two can talk,” Daniel says, and Max’s face crumples. “But call me if you need anything, okay?”
Max nods. You nod. Then Daniel steps out and closes the door behind him. You’re alone with Max. You shove your hands in your jacket pockets and step farther into the apartment as you kick your shoes off. There are dishes in the sink, a bottle of strawberry wine on the counter. Max sees you eyeing it.
“Wine?” He asks.
“No,” you say, hating the way his shoulders fall. “I, uh, I’m going to change, really quick. And then we should talk.”
He nods. You head for the bedroom. You have to walk past him on the way, and have to walk through his cologne. You want to reach out and touch him. You wonder, if you did, if he’d pretend nothing had ever happened. When you’ve changed into comfier clothes and see your tear streaked face in the mirror in the bedroom, you remind yourself how horribly unfair that would be.
You walk back out into the living room. Your hands are shaking, chest tight. Max is sitting in his usual spot in the corner of the couch. You sit down at the other end. The pain on his face makes your stomach ache. You pull your legs up onto the couch, curling in on yourself.
“First I want to apologize,” you say, softly. “I’ve been… really unfair.”
He shakes his head, ready to tell you it’s fine, but you cut him off.
“It’s not okay, Max,” you say. “This will be harder if you just forgive me at every wrong turn I’ve made.”
“We can figure it out, though,” he says, voice breaking on the last word. “We can, I know it, please don’t-“
He looks terrified, you realize. You don’t see him scared often. He’s small again, like he was that day sitting at the island. And suddenly you realize he thinks you’re here to break up with him. God, you feel sick.
“Max, honey,” you say. He keeps his eyes trained on the couch between the two of you. “I don’t want to break up. Not if you’ll still have me. But you deserve an explanation.”
You watch the tension drain from his face. Watch the weight melt away off his shoulders. He purses his lips, blows out a long breath. His eyes are glassy. You don’t see him cry often, and you hate that you’re the cause, even now. He crawls towards you on the couch and places his head in your lap. He takes your hand and drags it to his hair as he closes his eyes. You choke on a gasp at the feeling of his hand on yours.
“Please,” he says, quietly. “I’ve missed you. Please.”
So you sit on the couch in your shared apartment, and you run your fingers through his hair, and you tell him everything. You tell him about the burnout at work, about the insane schedule you’ve had, about them denying your time off to go to some of the races. You tell him about how much you miss him when he’s gone, how it makes your chest ache to wake up alone. You tell him about the hate you get online, the things people shout at you when you walk through the paddock. You tell him how exhausted you were, how you felt like you were failing him, how being at your worst made you feel like you were dragging him down. How you were afraid you would start being mean to him, how you wanted to get out before that happened. You tell him you thought space would make it better, but it only made it worse. Most of all, you tell him-
“None of it was you. It was me. I thought I was protecting you,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I thought it would be better like this.”
Max is quiet for a few moments after it all spills past your lips. You find yourself holding your breath. There’s a chance you’re too late, that there’s no coming back from this. Then you feel his hand against your jaw.
“I understand,” he says, voice raw and quiet. “And we can fix this. But I swear to god, if you ever pull some shit like that again I’ll-“
You burst into laughter before he finishes his threat, because what else can you do? You muffle the sound into your hands, even as Max keeps his hand on your jaw, even as he starts to laugh too. There’s nothing funny about it, really, but you can’t help it. Max sits up and presses himself against you, his head on your shoulder and his arms around your waist. It’s an awkward angle but it works. And then you’re gasping for air because you haven’t felt the weight of him in weeks, and he’s burying his face in your neck. You feel the tears land on your skin, and you’re not sure if they’re yours or his.
“You should quit your job,” he says, and you’re borderline hyperventilating now. “Take some time. Come with me. It’s not long now, and then it’ll be the break. The rest of it, we can figure out. Together.”
“You’re being too nice,” you tell him. “You should be mad at me. I’ve been-“
Max shushes you and pulls away. Panic claws at your chest at even the smallest loss of touch. He cups your face in his hands, though, and kisses your forehead.
“We have time to talk about all of it,” he says. “But what matters to me most is making sure you’re okay. The rest will come later. We can have the more difficult talks when we’re less tired and more stable.”
He kisses your temple. You nod and rub at your face. You lean over into him, forehead against his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” you say, one more time.
“I am, too,” he says. “For not noticing before it got so bad.”
You feel lighter. The weight isn’t completely gone, but it’s been lifted a bit. Shared, maybe. When you open your eyes, Max drags you into his chest and lays down on the couch with you in his arms. You can finally breathe again. The air feels clean and sweet like strawberries.
Eventually he coaxes you to bed. A fresh wave of tears hits you when you’re brushing your teeth in the bathroom next to him. He just holds you close through it. It should feel strange to crawl into bed next to him, you think, but it just feels like coming home, the way it always has. You think back to the lonely moments when he was away and you laid here alone, and you wonder how you ever gave any nights with him up. But you’re here now, and so is he, so you roll to face him. You press your face to his chest and breathe him in.
…..
In the morning, you’re in the bathroom when you hear him wake up. You hear the panicked noise he makes, the shuffling as he scrambles out of bed. He’s at the bathroom door in seconds, tugging on the handle and opening it. His shoulders heave as he stares at you, your toothbrush in your mouth, eyes wide.
“I thought,” he chokes out, eyes even wider than yours. “I woke up and you were gone and I thought-“
You yank the toothbrush out of your mouth and spit into the sink. “Shit. I didn’t even think- sorry-“
He doesn’t say another word, or leave you the chance to. Instead, he closes the gap between the two of you, takes your face in his hands, and kisses you. It’s been ages since you’ve felt his lips on yours. You’re putty in his hands immediately.
He drags you back into the bedroom, and you trip over his feet. His hands fall to your hips to keep you steady. He walks backwards towards the bed until he runs into it, knees buckling. He hauls you into his lap. When your knees settle on either side of his legs, when you feel the warmth of him underneath you, you swear you could cry.
His hands shove frantically at the hem of your sleep shirt. Yours do the same with his. His skin is hot to the touch- he’s still sleep-warm and soft. When you pull away from his lips, his eyes are half lidded.
“Max?” You ask, pressing your fingers to his side.
“Please,” he says. “Need you.”
You press a line of soft kisses to his jaw. He shudders underneath you. His hands pull at your hips, pulling you closer. You draw one hand up his spine, taking the shirt with you. He pulls it over his head. Yours follows his to the floor quickly after that. His hands fall to your waist, thumbs pressing into your ribs. You want to tell him everything. Want to tell him how sorry you are, how much you’ve missed him, how you could never live without him. How it tore you apart to try.
“I need you more,” you whisper into his ear, hoping it’ll be enough.
When you fall apart underneath and around and into him, he wraps his hand with yours and does the same. I love you tumbles over your lips and melts into his, the lips that repeat the same words back to you. You swear you taste strawberries.
…..
Max wakes up two months later to cold sheets and an empty bed, but he doesn’t panic. He can hear the whir of the coffee maker, can hear you humming in the kitchen and talking to the cats. There’s a sense of calm somewhere deep in his chest, one that hasn’t been there for a while, even after you came back to him. It’s the humming, he realizes drowsily. You used to hum all the time. You’d gone quiet for a while, but it’s back now. You’re back now. Piece by piece.
He rolls over, opens the bedside drawer. There’s the tray of corks, his watch, loose change and batteries and a faded post it note with something scrawled on it in your handwriting. And in the back corner, under a loose piece of paper, there’s a little black box. Inside, there’s a ring.
You’re not ready yet. You’re still healing. So is he. But you’re humming in the kitchen, making coffee, and he knows someday you both will be. For now, that’s enough.
You pop your head in through the doorway just after he shuts the drawer. “I have coffee for you.”
“Can’t we have it in bed?” He asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.
You laugh. “We have things to do today, Max. If I get back in bed with you we’ll never get any of them done.”
Max laughs, raises his eyebrows as he stretches his arms above his head. “Sounds like a good day to me.”
You roll your eyes affectionately and disappear again.
When he eventually joins you in the living room, his coffee is sitting on the table. You’re curled up under a blanket. He sits down and pulls you into his chest, wraps his arms around your waist from behind. He reads your book over your shoulder and takes a deep breath.
Any day with you is a good day.
Read the next part, On The Horizon, here!
a/n: sorrrryyyyyy! but I did promise a happy ending told you they’d be okay! thanks for reading!! title from the song that was definitely in the back of my head when I wrote Always Walk Me Home, which is probably how they ended up loving strawberry wine 🍓 & the song is sad so the angst had to happen. pls come talk to me ab this universe or any of my fics my ask box is open!!
Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen angst#max verstappen fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1#max verstappen#mv33#honeywrites#how did I write this so fast? insomnia#I proofread this maybe once#baby’s first angst#baby’s first anything but fluff really#what better Lewis bday present than max angst#just kiddinggggg#if ur still reading the tags send me a 🍓
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synopsis. you were once gojo’s girlfriend but left due to the pressures of jujutsu. now you’re back as a teacher at tokyo.
wc. 490
series link !
"blue looks good on you."
gojo knew you were there, he'd recognise your cursed energy anywhere. still, the sound of your voice after several years without startled him more than he would've cared to admit.
it looks better on you, is what he wanted to say. instead he gave you a grin, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at you. "everything looks good on me."
you laughed, and god did he miss that - the way your eyes crinkled and the way you covered your mouth with your hand. the sound of your voice was honey and it soothed his ache of being apart from you for so long.
"glad to know you're still humble, oh honoured one," you teased and gojo felt his cheeks heat up. it was an unfamiliar sensation - the feeling of embarrassment. yes, he may have once declared himself as such, but as he stood in the presence of you, he only felt honoured to be so close to you. if you moved any closer, your shoulders could've brushed against one another and he would've allowed that. infinity off.
"you're back just for an exchange event?" gojo asked with brows furrowed. his students were training for such in the field in front of you, only megumi vaguely aware of the significance you being there held.
it was the same field the two of you would sneak out to a decade prior just to watch the stars.
"didn't yaga tell you? i'm a teacher now," you quirked a brow as you watched his jaw drop, mouth slightly agape. "yeah believe me i'm just as shocked as you."
it took a moment for him to compose himself as he struggled to find the right words. "jujutsu was killing you," gojo's tone softened to just above a whisper. he was wearing glasses that had by now tipped to the edge of his nose as he studied you with those ocean blue eyes swirling with a formidable power.
your smile dropped slightly. there was no point in avoiding the elephant in the room forever. "losing you killed me."
you cleared your throat and took a step back. three and a half years of unspoken words created a wall stronger than his infinity and gojo wanted nothing more than to personally crush every brick.
nodding your head over to the practicing students, you changed the subject, "i've been assigned to help you out with the first years as i get used to being back so try to go easy on me." gojo managed to muster up a small chuckle at your jab at your different grade levels. he didn't respond, however, and turned his attention back to the students.
if he spoke, he'd be on his knees, promising you that he'd never hurt you or allow anyone else to harm you now that you were here again.
he'd lost you once and he'd be damned if he did that again.
#lovers to strangers to lovers?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!#idk if it's clear but yn left jujutsu because of the pressures and she was making mistakes on missions and just spiralling into a depressio#she came back for gojo tho <3 (don't blame her id never leave)#i just lovesick gojo#he has one love and one love only#idc what gege says hes loyal to one person for life#gojo#satoru#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo drabbles#gojo angst#gojo fluff
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