I want a fanfic where reader and vinnie are super super close like bestfriends since highschool and vinnie recently got a gf that hates y/n and makes y/n really uncomfortable and feel unwelcomed to even go near vinnie. So reader starts slowly not answering vinnies texts and calls and stuff. And vinnies super confused and has no idea that his gf is actually a total mean girl.
you've been quiet lately
pairing: vinnie hacker x reader
content: angst with hopeful ending, bestfriends-to-maybe-more undertones
warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, toxic relationship (not with reader), reader feeling left out / unwanted, gaslighting, mentions of crying, miscommunication, slow emotional drift
notes: here it is love, hope you like it and hope this was what you were thinking for this. ty for the support and requests are open 💌
word count: ~1k
the first time you ignored vinnie’s call, you had a reason.
it was late, your phone was dying, and you figured he’d probably just fallen asleep with discord open again anyway.
the second time, there wasn’t much of an excuse. you were just tired — tired of the way his new girlfriend’s eyes would skim over you like you were gum on the bottom of her shoe. tired of the subtle little digs that vinnie somehow never caught.
“oh, you’re here,” she’d say, like you hadn’t been coming over since sophomore year.
like you weren’t the one who drove him to his first tattoo appointment, or sat through every bad haircut phase, or stayed up until sunrise with him after his anxiety got worse.
it wasn’t that you wanted him to choose. you just wanted to stop feeling like an intruder in your own friendship.
so you started answering less. taking longer to text back. the gaps in conversation stretched wider, until vinnie’s name lit up your phone and you felt… dread.
the worst part was that he noticed.
“did i do something?”
“you’ve been quiet lately.”
“i miss you.”
you’d stare at those messages until your vision blurred, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, typing and deleting the truth over and over.
and then one night, he called again.
you didn’t answer.
but he sent you a voice note a minute later, his voice low, rough with something you couldn’t name.
“i don’t know what’s going on, but… if you’re mad at me, just tell me. please. you’re my best friend. i— i can’t lose you too.”
and god, it almost broke you.
you didn’t plan on seeing him.
you’d been doing so good at avoiding the places he might be — skipping the usual hangouts, muting the groupchat whenever his girlfriend started talking.
but tonight, you were just grabbing coffee. that was it.
and then you heard his laugh.
it was muscle memory, the way your head turned toward the sound. vinnie, at a corner table. her, sitting across from him.
you froze, ready to turn around, when she looked up and locked eyes with you.
her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“oh,” she said, loudly enough for vinnie to hear. “you’re still around?”
vinnie’s head whipped toward you, face breaking into something bright. “hey! what are you—”
“i was just leaving,” you cut in, trying to make it sound casual, even as your pulse pounded in your ears.
but then she laughed. soft, fake.
“babe, maybe let her go. she’s been… what’s the word… clingy lately, hasn’t she?”
you swear the room went quiet.
vinnie blinked, once, twice — like his brain was buffering.
“what?”
“it’s fine,” she said, shrugging, like she hadn’t just shoved a knife between your ribs. “we all know she’s had this, like, weird thing for you since high school.”
you couldn’t even look at him.
“i should go.”
but his chair scraped against the floor before you could take a step.
“no, you’re not going anywhere,” vinnie’s voice was sharp now, cutting through the café noise.
he turned to her, jaw clenched. “you’ve been saying shit like that to her? that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asked you, softer now.
you hated how your throat burned when you nodded.
“unbelievable,” he muttered, standing up fully. “we’re done.”
her face twisted. “seriously? over her?”
“over you being a shitty person,” he shot back, grabbing his hoodie off the chair.
and then he was next to you, hand on your shoulder, steering you toward the door like you were the only person in the world who mattered.
outside, you couldn’t even meet his eyes, but he stopped you on the sidewalk anyway.
“you should’ve told me,” he said, voice quieter now, almost breaking.
“i didn’t want to make you choose,” you whispered.
“you’re my best friend,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “there’s no choice.”
you don’t even remember how you ended up in his car.
one second you were outside the café, heart pounding from the adrenaline, and the next you were in the passenger seat, streetlights sliding across your lap.
vinnie didn’t say much at first. just drove. the windows were cracked, the cool air tangling your hair, and you realized his playlist hadn’t changed since high school — same old songs you used to scream-sing with your feet on the dashboard.
he pulled into the drive-thru without asking, ordered your drink before you could even open your mouth.
you hated how your chest ached at that.
you sat in silence for a bit, straw between your lips, watching the condensation bead on the plastic cup.
“i keep thinking about all the calls you didn’t answer,” vinnie said finally, eyes on the road. “how many times you probably needed me, and you didn’t feel like you could.”
you swallowed. “it wasn’t about—”
“no, i get it now.” his fingers tapped the steering wheel, restless. “i just… it kills me that you were dealing with her alone. i should’ve noticed.”
“she made it really easy for you not to,” you muttered, then immediately regretted it.
but vinnie just let out this frustrated sigh. “yeah. and i let her.”
you turned your head, studying his profile in the dim glow from the dashboard. the way his jaw tightened, like he was holding back more words than he could say.
“you’re not gonna lose me, y’know,” you said quietly.
that got him to look at you — really look, like he was trying to memorize your face.
“promise?”
you nodded, feeling his gaze linger like the sun on bare skin. “promise.”
he smiled then, soft and crooked, before reaching across the console to ruffle your hair like he used to when you were sixteen.
“good,” he said. “because i’m never letting you ghost me again.”
the rest of the night was easy — like muscle memory. you talked about dumb stuff, drove around aimlessly, ended up parked outside your house two hours later with empty cups in the cupholder.
when you got out, he leaned across the seat and called your name.
“i don’t care who i’m dating,” he said, a little too seriously for 2:37 a.m. “you’re it for me, okay? my person.”
and it was ridiculous, but you had to bite back the urge to tell him you wished that meant more than just best friend.
