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SNAPSHOT PT. 4 GOJO SATORU

synopsis. nobara can’t find the dvd anywhere and gojo has a decision to make

wc. 4k

tags. fluff, angst (kinda), reader is described as fem, possibly ooc gojo (my bad), cliffhanger-ish, any spelling mistakes blame on my cats, possible plotholes

a/n. several things to address: firstly my description of dvds and how they work ARE SO FLAWED IK DON'T JUDGE. secondly, look I get how rct works so not everything I say is accurate but like this is also about 2d men so who's to judge. finally I'm not too sure about this chapter so if its shit lmk BUT I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE IT THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT <333 ily all but I do have upcoming exams so the ending(s), won't be posted till possibly early February as I have to get back to studying :(

previous part / ending a / ending b

“guys we’ve lost it.” nobara pushed up her mattress, phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she peered beneath the wooden slats. all there was was her suitcase and a bag from an expensive shop she’d convinced gojo to buy for her. “it’s gone. poof. here once and now it’s not.” the ‘it’ in question being the dvd they’d treasured for the last few weeks (well, yuuji and nobara anyways).

after gojo had taken the dvd – unbeknownst to the first years – nobara had ended up sleeping for the next fourty eight hours, and then afterwards spending several days catching up on the classwork she’d missed. she hadn’t had the time or energy to force her classmates into another movie night so now here they were, almost a week since it was last touched, finally realising its disappearance.

“do you want me and megumi to come help?” yuuji asked tentatively as he heard her curse as she dropped the mattress back down. nobara sighed, glancing around at the chaos she’d created. her room was a mess – drawers half open and half her clothes and books on the floor in case the dvd had slipped into a pile by accident. 

“it’s not in my room,” she said adamantly, pushing her hair back from her face in frustration as she struggled to piece together the final moments she had with the dvd. she could remember sending megumi away, beginning her little day of research and even some of the videos she watched (the arcade and the christmas reunion), but then she fell asleep and everything was hazy from there.

“when was the last time you had it?” megumi asked and nobara felt her eye twitch like she hadn't retraced her steps a million times already.

“the first day i was off sick. i was watching a few–”

“without us?” the pink haired sorcerer cut in with a gasp.

“what else was there to do?” nobara argued back with no bite but he quietened down nonetheless. 

a moment of silence settled between the three as each tried to figure out where it could have been misplaced or who could’ve accidentally picked it up. if nobara had dropped it somewhere outside of her dorm, could one of the older years taken it?

nobara was brought out of deep thought by yuuji flippantly asking: “did you watch any after sensei came to see you?” she froze at the implication of his words. at no point could she recall their teacher ever coming in to check on her – it had always been either yuuji, megumi or maki. 

“what?” 

several hours later, the three first years found themselves huddled on the benches, nobara in the middle and the boys either side of her. in front of them were the second years and gojo – the latter having said something to annoy maki as yuuta held her back from making a swing at their laughing teacher. the second year teacher was off ill today so the larger class meant that the three had a distraction as they tried to figure out what their next step was – if they even had one at this point.

the assumed facts were as such: the first years were no longer in possession of the dvd, and gojo had it. though there was little doubt that this was true, it didn’t stop them questioning the possibility – after all, megumi had pointed out, there’d been no alter in his behaviour whatsoever since the minute he’d checked on nobara. surely, even the strongest would be noticeably affected by a disk that immortalised a happiness and innocence he’d never be able to return to.

but then again, maybe this was just another thing that separated gojo from the rest of society. being the strongest came before all else, he didn’t have the time to mourn resurfaced memories.

“maybe he just doesn’t have it,” yuuji suggested.

“he has to,” nobara reaffirmed. at this point they’d exhausted all other options about where it could possibly be and surely they would have heard if one of the older years found what they had. “would he tell you if he had it?” she asked megumi.

“no,” megumi said quickly, shaking his head and leaning back on the bench as he looked over at gojo, “we… he wouldn’t talk to me about that. about them.”

“could we steal it back?” yuuji offered and nobara debated duct taping his mouth closed.

megumi scoffed, shaking his head, “he has six eyes. even if we tried, he’d know for sure it was us.”

“he already knows it was us,” nobara countered, not that she agreed with yuuji’s solution by any means. “which is why i don’t get why he hasn’t said anyth–”

“oi, you three!” the first years jumped apart from their circle, hearts pounding as gojo appeared before them with a smirk toying at the corner of his lips and his hands clasped behind his back. “whoever beats maki in hand to hand combat gets the day off tomorrow!”

“yuuji if you win, i’m taking your day off,” nobara called out as she trailed behind the aforementioned boy running to the centre of the field. 

“okay!”

unsurprisingly, all three first years lost against the second year. megumi came closest to winning but when he tried to use his cursed technique, gojo countered it, catching him off guard and giving maki the opportunity to sweep him off his feet with her staff.

gojo found himself still laughing over megumi’s shocked expression as he fell flat on his back as he stepped past the threshold of his office. even after all he’d taught the boy in combat, with no cursed technique it was hard to overcome the zenin girl’s strength and skill she’d mastered to take on her own clan.

he let out a small sigh as the door locked shut and, for the first time that day, he was alone with his own thoughts.

dropping down into his office chair, gojo crossed one leg over the other as he pulled open a drawer. on the top of a pile of unread paperwork for the higher ups was the dvd the first years were so fixated on. 

he wasn’t stupid; he knew eventually they would figure out he had it and, unlike himself, they’d been way less subtle once they’d put two and two together. yuuji’s speech had tripled in speed, nobara was way too keen on being anywhere but where he was and megumi… gojo couldn’t forget the guilt and hurt in the teenage boy’s eyes after telling him you were gone. it was here again, had been for several weeks, and it was only after stumbling upon the disk in nobara’s room that he’d understood why.

gojo gritted his teeth together as he held the disk up between shaky fingers. it was pathetic, he scolded himself, it was just a bit of plastic with memories lasered into divots in a never ending spiral. it wasn’t worth the heartache.

if he looked closely enough, he could see shoko’s name written on the centrepiece in faded black sharpie. after gojo had stumbled upon the old camera several years after graduating from jujutsu high, shoko had taken back the camera to transfer all of the old clips onto dvds and given him, herself, nanami and you your own copies. he couldn’t even remember where his and yours were anymore, in fact he’d pretty much forgotten about their existence until a week ago.

he wasn’t sure where shoko had lost the dvd for the first years to get their hands on it but he hadn’t worked up the courage to speak to her about it. he hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything more than just spin the disk between his fingers, cry about it for a bit, and go back to pretending he didn’t have the last remnants of his youth in his drawer.

gojo glanced between the disk and the laptop on his desk. it was the last step he needed to take to hear your voice again. it had been on repeat for the last week in his mind; you uttering his name and that innocent question, would you last beyond your teenage years?

he missed it, missed you so bad.

raising megumi was a lot harder without you there; you were his favourite after all, bridging the gap between the two when they bumped heads with their contrasting personalities. gojo was all rainbows and giggles and megumi was everything but. you were a happy medium, creating a balance that maintained order in the home you shared. it was a peace that megumi deserved after losing his parents.

gojo clicked his tongue, reaching across to press a button that opened up a space for the disk. slotting it in place, he clicked the device shut and held his breath as he waited. it took several seconds for the files to load and then there he was again, back in those fields under the large weeping willow that was your spot.

the video was paused, exactly where it had been left, except this time gojo could actually see the screen.

your face wasn’t in it, just his. his glasses were off – balanced on your head if he remembered correctly – as he used your lap as a pillow. one of your hands was holding the camera while the other was held over his eyes to block any sort of light. the only thing he could make out was your cursed energy.

you were nearing the end of your first year and whilst gojo was growing more powerful, he was also growing more and more reliant on his glasses to stop himself from becoming so overwhelmed with the constant information he received with his six eyes. he’d overworked himself that day, as he so often did, hence why you’d dragged him away from the school to the seclusion of the tree. 

your questions about the longevity of your relationship weren’t meant to hold deep meaning, you just wanted to take his mind off of the headaches. gojo would choose thinking about you over the searing pain in the back of his head any day. yaga said that once he had a better understanding of his reversed curse technique it wouldn’t be so bad but until then it was just about riding it out.

gojo snorted at the notion. his reversed curse technique only marginally helped. you were what got him through the days when he’d lock himself in his bedroom with blackout blinds pulled down, hiding under his covers till he felt like he could function in society again.

he didn’t unpause the video, however, instead clicking onto the main tab with all of the files stored. 

lifting up his blindfold and dropping it down onto the desk, gojo took a deep breath before he began scrolling. unlike when the first years were simply searching for the ones with their favourite thumbnail, gojo was specifically searching for the ones he knew focused on you.

he needed to hear your voice again, to play it on repeat until it became so ingrained into his skin he could feel your touch.

gojo halted the cursor over the familiar date of your birthday, clicking on it without a second thought as the video filled the screen. it buffered for a moment, giving him a view of the dorm he’d practically spent three years in (despite yaga’s constant complaints and reminders that dorms were segregated on gender).

in the corner of your room was a stack of plushies that he’d won for you at arcades, and your walls were covered in photobooth photos and polaroids of your group of friends. his personal favourite was the polaroid you had pinned just above your desk. it was the two of you on new years eve sharing your first kiss of the year, sparklers in hand and the faint pink of a firework in the background. on the bottom of the polaroid was haibara’s handwriting as he’d scribbled on the date and a small smiley face.

“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!” seventeen year old gojo sung in the video, swaying the camera side to side above a pile of duvet and pillows. you were somewhere in the middle, half asleep and trying to push yourself deeper into the comfort of your bed and further from whatever the screeching was in your room.

you’d never been a morning person whereas he, on the other hand, had a reserve of energy that never depleted. it was what made getting up at the crack of dawn on your birthday so much more entertaining for him. even as an adult, when the two of you lived together in the comfort of your own apartment, he would either force you to stay up until midnight or gently nudge you awake at 4am to tell you he loved you.

“satoru,” you whispered groggily when you gave up trying to ignore his awful singing, lifting your head up just enough to meet his eyes. he would have done anything to see you physically before him instead of watching you through the lens of a camera. to be looked at with love as you did and not a mix of fear and respect. “if yaga catches you–”

“i’m just singing happy birthday to my girl,” his younger self dismissed, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he preferred your bed over his, a softer mattress he used to argue when shoko would complain about him showing up at your shared dorm several nights in a row. that particular birthday, he was pretty sure she’d been sent on a training mission over in kyoto. gojo’s hand came into frame as he ran a gentle hand through your hair, giving it a little pat when you quietly hummed at the contact. “he can’t hate on me for that.”

“yes he can,” you retorted, rolling your eyes with a tired smile. gojo felt his chest tighten – two years without waking up by that very same smile after almost a decade of having it everyday.

“i’ll blame shoko,” gojo shrugged with a grin, kicking his legs up onto your bed, despite your small protest that he was taking up all of your space. like you weren’t just as clingy as he was.

you huffed out a quiet laugh, your elbow digging into your pillow as you rested your head in your hand to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. “shoko forced the strongest sorcerer of the modern day to enter the girls’ dorms? uh huh.”

“woah woah, i’m the strongest of all time baby, i don’t do second best,” he corrected, leaning down to give you a peck on the forehead. you scrunched your nose up at the contact, but even through the viewpoint of the camera, he can see how your eyes dropped down to his lips.

“i know you don’t,” you smiled and gojo dropped the camera down as he moved to give you your first real kiss of seventeen. present day gojo sucked in a breath, willing for himself to get through at least one several minute video of you until he started crying.

the kiss ended all too quickly as gojo shoved the camera back into your face, the flash causing you to squint and squeeze your eyes closed. “now smile and say cheese, you’re seventeen!”

“woo!” you cheered half heartedly, giving in to his infectious excitement. blowing the camera a tired kiss, you shuffled yourself back deep beneath your duvet. “now can i go back to sleep?”

“as long as i can stay.”

“fine,” you dragged out, though you both knew you wanted him to just as much. yaga be damned. the video ended several seconds later and an odd silence filled his office. 

he’d only ever watched several of these videos once or twice – back when he still had you to curl up into his side and reminisce with him and laugh at nanami’s old haircut. if he was being honest, he didn’t even remember he’d recorded that (though he was glad he did).

gojo was more confident this time when he scrolled, his hands no longer shaking as much as they had been as he smiled at the life he once had. a life with you and geto.

this time he stopped at a thumbnail with the three of you; gojo holding up the camera high as the three of you posed like it was a photo. it was at one of only a handful clan events you had attended together, with both you and geto as gojo’s plus ones. he and geto were in matching suits and you were in a floor length dress that he’d spent way too much money on (but you looked so pretty when you tried it on he couldn’t not get it for you).

“hi this is mtv,” you clapped your hands together, “and welcome to my crib.” his younger self waved his hands around in the background (geto was recording), showing off the spiralling architecture that cost more money than fathomable. 

gojo quietly laughed in his office. the politics of clans and these events were the last reason he’d ever chosen to attend them. seeing you all dressed up and running around buildings with a million rooms were right at the top. his favourite had to be when both the first years, shoko and utahime had also been in attendance, but after haibara’s death, hanging around with the clans that upheld the institution that killed their friend seemed distasteful.

“this is my in house art museum collection.” you led geto along one of the vast corridors, pointing into a room with dozens of framed canvases of art from all across the globe. “this is where i come in for inspiration and to truly just feel art you know?”

“i wasn’t aware you had skills beyond stickmen,” geto interjected and you raised both your middle fingers at him.

“art is subjective, di–”

“woah, i have standards to uphold here,” gojo cupped a hand over your mouth, stopping any expletive leaving you. you hummed in annoyance and the white haired sorcerer grinned, nodding his head over to a partially opened door. “we don’t need to argue when we have a whole cinema room to ourselves.” gojo remembered the stain of red lipstick you’d left on his hand when he let you go (you’d refused to kiss him all evening because of your makeup).

the cinema room was massive: rows and rows of sleek leather seats that looked out of place when compared to the aesthetic of the building. this was someone’s home, though it looked like anything but.

“this is my cinema room,” geto held onto the back of one of the chairs as he loosened his tie. he lowered his voice as he leant closer to the camera gojo was now holding. “we used to have two but daddy converted the smaller one into a sauna so now we only have this one,” he said with an upturned nose, and you could be heard giggling in the background at his faux disgust.

you nor geto were from the same wealthy background as gojo was and loved to poke fun at his high status background.

“oi!” an official that was supposed to be watching for any curses or curse users that tried to sneak into the event pointed a light into the cinema room. “you kids shouldn’t be back here!”

gojo laughed, throwing the camera to geto as he grabbed your hand and led you quickly down the stairs to another exit at the bottom of the stairs. geto turned off the recording once he’d grabbed a hold of the device in favour of focusing on not being caught. it wasn’t like there would be any real consequence – they were with gojo satoru after all.

the white hair sorcerer smiled as he thought back to the rest of the night. obviously, you’d all managed to get away – though he had suffered your wrath at the fact your legs weren’t as long as their’s were and you were running in heels. two strikes, but he’d made it up to you by taking you out for ice cream instead of going back to hear the speeches.

it wasn’t an exaggeration to say gojo would have done anything for you then. 

gojo swallowed a lump in his throat as your last interaction came to mind. you were arguing, as you had been in the weeks up until megumi’s birthday as he inched closer and closer to being old enough to enrol in jujutsu high.

the only wish he’d ever refused to fulfil: keeping megumi away from jujutsu.

“he’s our responsibility.” you were yelling at him, desperate for him to understand your point of view and he was walking away. dodging your anger by going wherever his legs took him – anywhere but where you were. “we need to protect him. we can’t protect him if he becomes a sorcerer too.” 

“i can,” he insisted, halting in his place to turn and look down at you. his cursed technique was activated, though there was no need for it to be, and all it did was frustrate you further.

“i nearly died today!” you countered, pointing to your neck with a faint scar. shoko’s reversed cursed technique was almost perfect, but not even that could fully erase the deep lacerations that had almost taken your life. “where were you? you can’t be everywhere and help everyone at the same time. it’s just not possible.”

“i can try.” his jaw was tight as he responded through gritted teeth.

“and if that’s not enough?” you didn’t need to see his eyes to know his were locked directly onto yours, daring you to continue. he wouldn’t hurt you, would never dream of it, angry or not, but how could you of all people doubt him? “what then gojo satoru?” you uttered his full name like it was an insult, “you may be the strongest but he’s not. i’m not. we’re mortals compared to you.”

“you’re my family,” his voice broke.

“yu and suguru were family once too.”

gojo clenched his fists at the memory, at the reminder he walked out after that. you were trying to get him to see your concerns, and he’d taken that as you blaming him for the outcome of your close friends. that was the last time he ever saw you; tears welling up in the corner of your eyes at his insensitivity, at his inability to admit that maybe, just maybe, he too was just a mortal. 

everything you said was logical and made sense – he had almost lost you that day, having not initially received the message that you had needed backup as he was preoccupied with his own mission. by the time he had arrived, the curse had its claws dug deep into your skin and it had taken everything in him not to use hollow purple and bring the entire infrastructure down in seconds.

despite all he’d done to save you that day, he’d still lost you. he’d only delayed the seemingly inevitable by mere hours.

megumi sat up in bed at the sound of two knocks on the door. he highly doubted it would be yuuji since the pink haired sorcerer had only left several minutes prior, saying something about needing to meet panda. 

to his surprise, gojo stood before him, hands in the pockets of his pants as he half smiled at the younger boy. 

“is itadori here?” megumi hesitated before shaking his head. “good,” gojo held up the missing dvd, “we need to talk.”

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen @kimvmarvel @ieathairs @janbannan @ja-zz @vangoes @starringz @ciscob1tes @theoriginaluzisimp @thirtykiwis @vivienne2000 @whydohumansss @purpleguk @simeon-lovergirl @missesgojosatoru @loveroftheoldestdream @mkaiiserr

if ive missed anyone im so sorry send me a little reminder <3

I say have a type (men with dark curly hair, big eyes, heavy accent who can cook) and then nico rosberg blesses my eyes and everything is out the window

PICTURES IF GOJO THAT MAKE ME FALL TO MY KNEES. IN FRONT OF HIM…🩵🩵

the glossy lips,the undercut,the jawline,floofy hair,pretty blue eyes,manspreading…got it all.

F1 GRID | being caught together

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, & charles leclerc (click here for part two) ୨ৎ : synopsis : being caught together after telling everyone you guys weren't even dating...

୨ৎ : genre : comedic romance ୨ৎ : tws : cursing ୨ৎ : word count : 1695

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : part one will always include: verstappen, hamilton, russell, sainz, and leclerc. part two will always include: lando norris, oscar piastri, kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, and yuki tsunoda! <3 (every f1 grid story is released on saturdays @ 8pm and @ 10pm est)

ʚ・max verstappen

for weeks, max had been insistent, borderline aggressive, in denying any and all accusations that he and you were together.

"you guys are basically dating," lando said, arms crossed.

max scoffed. "we are not together."

"really?"

"yes," max snapped. "i do not like them that way!"

silence.

lando’s smirk was immediate. "dude. you’re blushing."

max’s jaw clenched. "no, i’m not."

"yeah, you so are."

"it’s just warm in here."

"we’re outside."

max stormed off, fuming, but later that night, he hesitated before texting you:

max: dinner tomorrow? just us?

you: yeah, of course.

it was fine. totally normal.

until you were at dinner, mid-conversation, and max followed your gaze—straight to lando, charles, and liam, all staring, lando already pulling out his phone.

a notification popped up immediately.

lando norris tagged you in a story.

max groaned before he even opened it.

"‘we’re not dating’ – max verstappen, 24 hours ago."

you bit your lip, trying not to laugh. max shot you a glare.

"this is your fault."

"my fault?"

"you said yes to dinner!"

"you asked me!"

max exhaled sharply, shaking his head. then, after a pause, he stole a fry off your plate like it was second nature.

like he hadn’t just unknowingly confirmed to himself, and everyone else, that yeah, maybe you were dating after all.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

it wasn’t supposed to be this complicated.

a simple group trip, a well-planned itinerary, and a definite understanding that you and lewis were just friends—despite what everyone seemed to think.

but then, as everyone was checking into the hotel, things took an unexpected turn.

"alright," george said, skimming the room assignments. "charles, max and liam, me and kimi…"

he paused, eyes narrowing slightly as he read the last booking.

"and…" he cleared his throat, "lewis and y/n?"

a beat of silence.

then, simultaneously:

"what?" you and lewis both said.

lando’s grin was immediate. "oh, that’s interesting."

max raised an eyebrow. "you guys booked a single room?"

lewis frowned, already pulling out his phone to check the reservation. "i didn’t book it—"

"wait," you interrupted, looking at him. "i thought you booked it?"

lewis looked at you. "i thought you booked it."

you both stared at each other for a second, realization slowly dawning.

"oh my god," liam muttered, "you two are ridiculous."

lando was practically buzzing at this point. "so just to clarify," he said, barely containing his laughter, "you guys accidentally booked one room… together?"

george exhaled dramatically. "this is a logistical nightmare."

kimi, on the other hand, looked entirely amused. "or it’s fate."

you groaned, rubbing your temples. "we’ll just get another room—"

the front desk staff chose that moment to appear. "ah, mr. hamilton, ms. y/n, i assume you’re checking into the honeymoon suite?"

silence.

max choked.

lando wheeled away in laughter.

lewis ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. "brilliant."

you wanted to die.

"we are not together," you tried to explain, but no one was listening.

the damage was done.

and the worst part? the hotel was fully booked.

you and lewis exchanged glances, his lips twitching like he was already preparing to tease you about this later.

"guess we’re sharing," he murmured, shaking his head.

you sighed, dragging a hand down your face.

"of course we are."

ʚ・george russell

you and george had worked very hard to convince everyone that you weren’t dating.

the teasing from the grid? unbearable. the constant speculation online? exhausting. the smug looks from lewis every time you were together? infuriating.

so, you both stuck to the same script: we’re just friends. we spend a lot of time together, but we’re just friends.

it had worked.

until his parents completely ruined it.

you were visiting george’s family for a quiet weekend—just a casual trip, nothing suspicious at all. at least, that’s what you thought.

it was all going fine—dinner, stories, light conversation—until his mum suddenly sighed in relief, setting down her wine glass with a content smile.

"oh, finally!"

you blinked. "finally?"

george frowned. "finally what?"

his mum waved a hand between the two of you. "you two finally told everyone! we’ve been waiting for ages!"

silence.

you turned to george. george turned to you.

"told everyone what?" he asked, very, very slowly.

his dad chuckled. "that you’re dating, of course."

george nearly choked on his drink. "we’re not dating!"

his mum gave him a knowing look. "oh, come on, george. you told us months ago!"

your stomach dropped.

george froze. "i—what?"

"you called your father and me and said, and i quote—" she cleared her throat, lowering her voice to mimic his, "'mum, dad, i think i’m in love with y/n, and i don’t know what to do about it.'"

you gasped. george gasped.

his dad nodded. "you definitely said that."

lewis, who had been listening via facetime with his front-row seat to the chaos, wheezed.

"george?" you asked, still processing. "is there something you’d like to share with the class?"

george, fully malfunctioning, pushed his chair back abruptly. "i—uh—excuse me for a moment."

and with that, he got up and walked out of his own house.

you watched him leave, blinking in disbelief.

his mum sighed. "oh dear, i hope we didn’t fluster him too much."

lewis, still on facetime, cackled. "flustered? mate just ran away."

you were still stunned, heart racing.

because as shocking as that revelation was, the part that stuck with you the most was that george never denied it.

ʚ・carlos sainz

the plan had been simple—just a casual dinner with friends, nothing that would feed into the ridiculous rumors that you and carlos were anything more than that.

you had spent months dodging questions, brushing off teasing comments, and maintaining the perfectly crafted narrative: we’re just friends.

and it had been working.

until charles completely ruined it.

you didn’t even notice when he took the picture—probably because you were too busy laughing at something carlos had said, leaning into him like it was second nature, his hand resting lightly on your knee under the table.

it was a good picture. a great picture, actually.

unfortunately, it was also a terrible picture because charles, in his infinite wisdom, posted it with zero context and tagged you both.

and then? the comment section exploded.

f1updates: nah this is so soft??? sainzstan99: tell me why they look more coupley than actual couples 😭 carlosfangirl: so we’re all just accepting that they’ve been dating this whole time, right? charles_leclerc: 😊👍🏼 you saw the post at the exact same time carlos did.

your stomach dropped. "oh. my. god."

carlos ran a hand down his face. "you have got to be kidding me."

you immediately went to untag yourself, only to realize that it was too late—the internet had already run with it, edits were being made, tiktoks were going viral, and worst of all, carlos’s own family members were commenting.

reyes.sainz: 🤔 carlossainz55: …interesting. you turned to carlos in horror. "your dad just commented."

carlos sighed deeply. "of course he did."

you both sat there, staring at the screen, knowing there was zero chance of talking your way out of this one.

then, finally, carlos turned to you, a slow smirk creeping onto his face. "well," he said, amusement lacing his voice, "i guess there are worse people to be fake dating."

you scoffed. "oh, shut up."

carlos chuckled, casually throwing an arm around the back of your chair. "should we at least give them something to talk about?"

and the worst part?

you didn’t exactly hate the idea.

ʚ・charles leclerc

you and charles had perfected the art of denial.

the teasing from friends? ignored. the way charles always sat next to you, no matter how many other seats were available? totally normal. the lingering stares, the soft smiles, the fact that he always found an excuse to touch you? just friendly behavior.

it was fine. everything was under control.

until it wasn’t.

it happened in the ferrari garage, where you were waiting for charles after a media session. he walked in, still slightly damp from the post-session shower, running a towel through his hair before spotting you.

his face lit up instantly. "hey," he greeted, walking over. without hesitation, he reached for your hand—like it was second nature, like it was something he did all the time—and laced his fingers through yours as he leaned against the counter next to you.

and the problem wasn’t that he grabbed your hand.

the problem was that he didn’t let go.

neither did you.

it wasn’t intentional. it wasn’t anything, really. just a comfortable, absentminded habit, his thumb gently brushing against your skin, your fingers loosely intertwined as you talked about his session.

at least, until lewis walked in.

lewis, who stopped dead in his tracks, staring at your joined hands like he had just caught you both committing an actual crime.

you immediately froze. charles did too.

then, realization hit.

lewis tilted his head, looking far too amused. "am i interrupting something?"

you and charles immediately pulled away, but it was too late—the damage was done.

lewis’s smirk was instant. "ohhh, so this is what’s been going on?"

"it was nothing," you tried.

lewis crossed his arms. "that’s funny, because it looked like something."

charles, traitor, just ran a hand through his hair, biting back a smile.

lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "mate, i knew ferrari was full of surprises, but i didn’t think this was one of them."

you groaned, covering your face. "lewis."

he held up his hands, stepping back. "don’t worry, i won’t say anything."

you peeked through your fingers. "really?"

lewis grinned. "no. of course not. i’m telling everyone."

and with that, he disappeared.

you sighed, turning to charles, who looked way too entertained. "this is your fault."

he raised an eyebrow. "my fault?"

"you were the one holding my hand!"

charles smirked. "and you didn’t let go."

you opened your mouth to argue, then closed it.

charles leaned in slightly, green eyes flickering down to your lips for just a second before murmuring, "maybe we should give them something real to talk about."

and that was when you realized, maybe getting caught wasn’t so bad after all.

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look at charles losing his spark as the australian race weekend goes on:

thursday ☺️

friday 😁

saturday 🤔

sunday 😑

a new year without you

(happy new year everyone!! 🥳)

☆Art by lillilllxpeg214 on twitter!☆