#a new one just came out in fall 2024

[warmhappycat]

Yeah, I really could not stop thinking about the exchange in OP’s post.

There are really only 2 explanations for being an anti-vaxxer, right?

You’re either stupider than a pile of bricks, or you’re a eugenicist, yeah?

If you’re stupid enough not to know or gullible enough to not believe that deadly diseases used to kill a lot of people, that’s one thing.

But I don’t think that’s most people. Most people are actually pretty smart, I think, even if their other traits tend to hide it.

Which leaves eugenics. You know measles kills people, you know Covid kills people, you know mumps and pertussis and whatever else kill people, but you just don’t think it’ll kill you, or your children.

Which is wrong, and dumb, but more importantly - if you know that, and oppose vaccines and other mitigation efforts anyway, then I can only conclude that you’re ok with it killing people who don’t (can’t, can’t afford, don’t have time, can’t access) do whatever the thing is that you think is protecting you and your family.

You feed your kids raw milk or whatever, and you think this will protect them from measles. Lots of children’s, little babies’, parents don’t do this. Are you ok with them dying?

Your kids are vibrant and healthy. You’re sure their natural immune system could fight off Covid. Lots of kids are disabled though. Are you ok with them dying?

Your family says their prayers and goes to services and never sins, and you believe your deity will deliver you from whooping cough. You also believe that it is part of your sacred mission in this life to bring people, who were born as sinners, into the faith, lest they go to hell. Are you ok with them dying and going to hell before you ever even talk to them? Are you ok with their parents dying, just because they didn’t find your deity as compelling as you do?

All of which is to say nothing about how abhorrent it is that all of this nonsense started because people thought it was better for their children to die than to “get” autism.

Unless someone is stupid to a degree that I’m not sure actually exists, then I think the only explanation for this behavior is some degree of eugenicist belief, no? “People who don’t live their lives like I do deserve to die. I don’t owe them anything.” Right?

It took almost a decade to do that too. We're entering year 5 of covid. It's global and airborne. Mask up.

[mononijikayu]

pillowtalk — fushiguro toji.

So one evening, when the house is peaceful and the two of you are sitting together, watching Megumi’s small chest rise and fall as he sleeps, Toji finally lets the words slip out. “Do you think… Megumi’s lonely?” His voice is soft, almost tentative. He’s not used to sounding uncertain, but this feels like new territory for him. “Like, maybe he’d do better with a sibling?” The question hangs in the air, unspoken emotions carried within it, waiting for your response.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, smut, rough sex, breeding kink, overstimulation, body praise, kissing, p-i-v sex, fingering, pet names (baby, babe, wife, mama, etc), profanity, love, humor, light-hearted, married life, being in love, sexual intercourse, slice of life, domestic life, family, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, husband! toji, mamaguro! reader;

WORD COUNT: 7k words

NOTE: i think about how mamaguro was taken too soon from toji and megumi and how maybe they were thinking about wanting another kid and just how domestic their life was. i like to think about toji!househusband too fr. like if there was a character that could be the way of the househusband, it would be fushiguro toji, thank you. thank you for listening to my tedtalk!!! anyway, i love you all <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

if you want to, tip!

══════════════════

HIS LIFE NOW WAS A FAR CRY FROM HIS OLD LIFE. Toji Fushiguro never thought he'd find peace, much less happiness. His life had been a series of battles, betrayals, and constant survival. But then you came along, softening the sharp edges of his world, bringing warmth where there had only been cold.

He remembers the day he first saw you. It was as if the world had found itself in a tailspin and he was in it. His world changed when you came into his life. Everything felt like it was worth finding wonder in.

With how you looked at him with eyes full of understanding, tenderness. There was nothing of pity or grievance. There was always warmth. Warmth he didn't think he would ever deserve. Somehow, you'd seen something in him worth saving, something worth loving. 

You gave him a family, a real family—not just in the blood that runs through his veins but in the small, everyday moments that fill the spaces between. You gave him everything he could ever want. Everything that he thought could only be achieved in dreams.

Mornings over coffee, the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, your laugh echoing softly through the room. The gentle way you cradle your son, Megumi, in your arms, whispering stories to him with a voice so full of love it makes Toji’s chest ache in the best possible way.

Every time he looks at Megumi, he feels a rush of gratitude so overwhelming it almost brings him to his knees. Your son has his eyes, that piercing gaze that cuts through the nonsense of the world, but he has your smile, that Toji was sure of. He was just as much happy about it too.

When he looked at Megumi, he could find that small, quiet curve that seems to promise the universe that all will be well. It was waiting for him on his son's beautiful face as much as it was on your own beautiful lips.

Fushiguro Toji never thought he’d care so much about something so trivial, but here he is, caring more than he ever imagined possible. His son's smile brought him as much joy to see as it does when you too smile at him.d

He watches Megumi toddling around the living room, his tiny hands grasping at the air as he learns to walk, determination etched on his face. Toji's heart swells with a fierce kind of pride.

In moments like these, he understands what people mean when they talk about the best things in life. It’s not the money, the power, or the next fight to win. It’s his son’s first steps, the weight of your hand in his, the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing beside him at night.

You've given him a home—not just a house with walls and a roof but a place where he feels like he belongs, where he isn't running from shadows or haunted by the ghosts of his past. A place where, for the first time in his life, he feels like he deserves to stay.

Toji never thought he’d be here, never thought he’d be the kind of man who could love so deeply, who could feel so much. But you changed that. You changed everything. And as he stands there, watching Megumi, he knows that this right here, right now is the happiest he’s ever been.

Toji’s gaze shifts from Megumi to you, who are quietly watching the two of them with a serene smile. Your presence brings a calm to the chaos that once defined his life. The way you hold Megumi’s tiny hand as he wobbles toward you, the soft encouragement in your voice, it all creates a sanctuary that Toji never thought he’d find.

In the evenings, when the world quiets down and the house is bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, Toji often finds himself reflecting on how far he’s come. He thinks about the days when his future seemed so uncertain, when the idea of a family felt like an impossible dream. Now, every moment spent with you and Megumi feels like a precious gift, a beautiful reality he’d only dared to hope for.

As Megumi eventually collapses into a giggling heap on the floor, Toji chuckles softly. You come over and join them, your laughter mingling with his as you all enjoy the simple joy of being together.

Toji sits back and watches, his heart full. He thinks about the sacrifices he’s made and the battles he fought. Each scar, each hard-earned lesson, has led him to this moment—the sweetest victory of all.

In the quiet moments, when it’s just the three of you, Toji often finds himself lost in thought. He marvels at how you’ve created a life filled with warmth and love, and how Megumi is growing up surrounded by everything he never had.

He realizes that his past, with all its pain and darkness, was worth it for the chance to build this future with you. He feels a profound sense of gratitude, not just for what you’ve given him, but for the strength and resilience you’ve shown in building this family together.

When he tucks Megumi into bed at night, he’s reminded of the importance of the little rituals. The way Megumi’s eyes flutter closed as Toji reads him a bedtime story, the way he clings to the small toy you both picked out together, and the peaceful sigh he gives as he drifts off to sleep. Toji knows that these moments are fleeting, but they are precious.

As he stands by the doorway, watching over his sleeping son, Toji reaches out and takes your hand. You squeeze it gently, a silent promise of the love and support you’ve always given him. He turns to you, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings.

“I never thought I’d have a life like this.” he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. “You’ve given me everything I never knew I needed. I don’t know how to thank you, but I hope you know how much you mean to me.”

You smile, your eyes glistening with love and understanding. “You don’t have to thank me. This our family, our home, its all I ever wanted too. We’ve created something beautiful together, and that’s more than enough.”

Toji wraps his arm around you, pulling you close as he gazes once more at the peaceful scene before him. In that moment, he knows that he has everything he could ever ask for. The life he shares with you and Megumi is his greatest achievement, his greatest joy. And as he holds you close, he realizes that this is exactly where he’s meant to be—home.

The nights are often filled with a gentle stillness, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Megumi’s breathing as he sleeps. Toji finds these quiet moments to be some of the most precious. He cherishes the tranquility that envelops your family, feeling as though he’s finally found his place of peace after years of turmoil.

In the early mornings, when the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, Toji enjoys watching you and Megumi. He loves the way you wake up with a soft smile, the kind that says everything is right in the world.

As you prepare breakfast, Toji often stands by, watching with admiration. You move through the routine with an ease and grace that mesmerize him, the way you hum a soft tune or how you softly chat with Megumi, turning the mundane into something magical.

Mornings are Toji’s favorite time to bond with his son. He takes Megumi in his arms, holding him close as he prepares to start the day. They play together, their laughter filling the room with an infectious joy that makes Toji’s heart swell.

He sees so much of you in Megumi; Everything he loves about you blossomed in your beautiful son. Megumi had the same curious eyes, the same warm smile—and it makes him fall in love with both of you all over again.

On weekends, the family often goes on small adventures. Whether it’s a stroll through the park, a visit to a nearby museum, or a picnic by the river, Toji treasures these outings.

He loves seeing the world through Megumi’s eyes, watching as his son discovers new things and experiences the simple joys of life. He takes pride in being a part of these moments, knowing that he’s helping to create cherished memories for his family.

At night, after Megumi is asleep and the house quiets down, Toji and you find time to connect. These moments of solitude are a chance to share your thoughts and dreams, to reflect on the day and plan for the future.

The conversations are often deep and meaningful, touching on everything from hopes and fears to the little details of daily life. It’s in these conversations that Toji feels most connected to you, realizing how deeply you understand and support him.

Sometimes, Toji thinks back to the days when his life was filled with chaos and uncertainty. He can’t believe how far he’s come, how much he’s changed. And every time he looks at you or Megumi, he’s reminded of just how much he’s gained. The family he’s built with you is a testament to the love and resilience you both share.

As he drifts off to sleep beside you, Toji feels a profound sense of contentment. The days are filled with laughter and love, the nights with peace and connection. He knows that his past is behind him, that he’s finally found the life he was meant to have.

In the quiet darkness, Toji holds you close, grateful for the life you’ve created together. He’s found something he never thought possible—a home, a family, and a love that makes everyday worth living.

And as he whispers a quiet “thank you” into the night, he knows that the greatest gift he’s ever received is the love and happiness you and Megumi have brought into his life.

══��═══════════════

HE REALLY THINKS THIS IS THE BEST LIFE ANYONE CAN ASK FOR. Fushiguro Toji enjoys the life you’ve built together. He really does. But lately, a thought has been lingering in his mind, one that keeps surfacing during the quiet moments.

He wonders if maybe life would be even better, fuller—if you and he were to give Megumi a sibling. It’s not that he doesn’t love the way things are now. Ever since Megumi was born, everything shifted naturally; your priorities changed, and together, you’ve navigated this new life of parenthood seamlessly. 

But still, Toji can’t help but worry. Megumi is growing up fast—already past his first birthday and nearing his second. He’s independent in his own quiet way, rarely showing interest in playing with other kids when given the chance. Toji wonders if maybe it’s because Megumi feels a little lonely, being an only child. 

Toji doesn’t voice these thoughts out loud often, but they weigh on his mind. You’ve both done well to balance your lives, your love, and your responsibilities. But he imagines another child, a little sibling for Megumi—someone to share those quiet afternoons and keep him company.

Maybe it’s time to think about it, he muses. After all, family has always been at the center of his thoughts, and adding to yours feels like the natural next step.

Your husband hasn’t brought it up yet, not directly. It’s hard for him to find the right moment, the right words. He’s not one for long conversations or deep discussions, but you know him well enough to notice when something is on his mind.

Lately, he’s been watching Megumi more closely, observing the way your son plays quietly by himself, content in his little world but lacking the spark of excitement that other kids seem to find when surrounded by their peers.

He’s seen it when you’re both at the park, Megumi clinging to your leg instead of running around with the other children. He doesn’t push it—Megumi is still young, and Toji knows better than anyone that everyone moves at their own pace.

But the nagging thought remains: maybe what Megumi needs isn’t just more playdates or time with other kids. Maybe he needs someone at home, a sibling to grow up with, to bond with. Someone who’ll always be there, someone who’ll understand him in a way only a sibling can.

In those quiet moments when the house is calm, and Megumi is tucked away in bed, Toji imagines what it might be like. The sounds of laughter from another room, two pairs of small feet running down the hallway.

The way you’d smile, holding another little one in your arms. The thought makes him feel warm, something he doesn’t experience often. It’s not just about Megumi anymore, he knows that too well. It’s also about the life you’re building, the family you’ve already started. And deep down, he knows he wants to keep growing it.

Still, he wonders how you’ll feel about it. You’ve both been so focused on Megumi, on making sure he’s happy and cared for. Will you think it’s too soon? Will you worry about the shift it would cause in your lives again, the added responsibility?

These thoughts swirl in his mind as he considers how to approach the subject. He doesn’t want to push, but the desire is there, quietly persistent, tugging at him with each passing day.

So one evening, when the house is peaceful and the two of you are sitting together, watching Megumi’s small chest rise and fall as he sleeps, Toji finally lets the words slip out.

“Do you think… Megumi’s lonely?” His voice is soft, almost tentative. He’s not used to sounding uncertain, but this feels like new territory for him. “Like, maybe he’d do better with a sibling?”

The question hangs in the air, unspoken emotions carried within it, waiting for your response.

You pause for a moment, taking in Toji’s words. It’s not a question you expected, but knowing him, you realize this has been on his mind for a while. His concern for Megumi is clear, and the idea of giving your son a sibling is something you’ve thought about before, though not as seriously. But now, hearing it from Toji, you realize it’s more than just a passing thought—it’s a real possibility. 

You glance over at Megumi, fast asleep in his crib, peaceful and unaware of the weight of this conversation. He’s always been a quiet, introspective child, and it’s true—he doesn’t seem to enjoy the company of other kids all that much.

Your little boy is happy to be around you both, that was true enough. He always loves spending time with you both. But with other kids? It's a tough crowd when it comes to your little boy. 

But you’ve always assumed he’d grow out of it, that he’d find his own way to connect. Still, there’s a small part of you that wonders if Toji is right. Maybe Megumi is lonely, and maybe the best thing for him would be to have a sibling to share his life with.

You shift closer to Toji, resting your head against his shoulder. “I don’t know, baby.” you admit softly. “Maybe. He does seem to keep to himself a lot… but he’s still so young. Do you really think a sibling would make a difference?”

Toji lets out a low sigh, his arm wrapping around you as he considers his words. “I think it could. I mean, I didn’t grow up with much family, and I turned out…” He trails off, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, let’s just say I don’t want that for Megumi. He deserves more.”

You smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, but the thought lingers in your mind. Toji’s childhood was different—lonely in a way that you know he doesn’t talk about often. Maybe that’s why this means so much to him. Maybe he wants Megumi to have something he never did.

“You think we’re ready for that?” you ask, glancing up at him. It’s a big decision, one that would change everything, again. But there’s something comforting about the idea, too. “I mean with how busy we are and Megumi…”

You’ve seen Toji with Megumi, the way he’s softened since becoming a father. And you love it. More than anything, it was what you think that fulfilled your life — making Toji a father and building a family. him.

But you haven’t thought about it just yet. But now that you’re thinking about it….the thought of adding another little one to your family, watching Toji bond with another child, feels right in a way that you hadn’t fully realized until now.

Toji meets your gaze, his expression more serious now. “I think we are. It’s not gonna be easy, but nothing ever is, right? We made it work with Megumi, and we’ll make it work again.”

His confidence reassures you, and the weight of the decision starts to feel less overwhelming. You’re not just thinking about yourselves anymore; you’re thinking about Megumi and the family you’re building together.

You lean into him, letting his warmth and the quiet of the evening wrap around you both. “Okay, okay….” you say softly, the decision settling into your chest. “Let’s think about it. For Megumi. For us.”

Toji presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice full of something deeper than just words. “For all of us.”

But thinking was one thing. Acting on it, especially when the two of you were so deeply drawn to each other—was something entirely different. Whenever the subject of expanding your family surfaced in conversation, it wasn’t long before the connection between you and Toji shifted into something more intense, more immediate.

There was an undeniable pull between you, something that seemed to ignite in the quiet moments when you were alone together, reminding you just how much you desired one another.

It would often happen in the evening, after a long day of work. The two of you would settle into the comfort of your apartment, exhaustion slipping away as you relaxed on the couch after dinner.

Toji would always keep you close, one arm draped over your shoulders, his hand absently tracing patterns on your skin. The world outside would fade as you settled into your quiet bubble, just the two of you in the stillness of the night.

And then, it would happen slowly at first, with a shared glance, a quiet breath, and the unspoken understanding that there was something deeper simmering beneath the surface.

Toji, always so sure in his movements, would gently guide you from the couch to the soft embrace of the bed, laying you down against the pillow with deliberate care, as if you were something precious. His hands would roam, teasing and familiar, as he removed your clothes piece by piece, his fingers gliding over your skin like he’d memorized every inch of you.

By the time his hand slid between your thighs, you were already lost to him, to the way he touched you with a practiced skill that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers worked their way inside you, slow and deliberate at first, drawing out every bit of pleasure as your body responded to him. 

The feeling was electric, the tension between you mounting with each passing second. Toji’s gaze was fixed on you, dark and focused, as if nothing else in the world mattered but the way you were falling apart beneath his touch.

You couldn’t think about anything else in those moments, not about the future or about giving Megumi a sibling. All you could focus on was the sensation of Toji’s fingers moving inside you, the heat of his body pressed against yours, and the sound of your breath hitching in your throat as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Toji knew exactly what he was doing. He always did. The way he touched you, the way he whispered your name in that low, gravelly voice; it drove you wild, leaving you breathless and aching for more. You were wrapped up in him, in the way his fingers curled inside you, his thumb brushing over your most sensitive spot with a precision that made your head spin.

Your back arched, hips instinctively rolling against his hand as the pleasure built, your thoughts scattered in every direction except the present moment. Toji’s lips found your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “You’re all mine,” his voice thick with want.

And in that moment, you were. Completely, entirely his. The rest of the world faded away, and all that mattered was the feeling of being lost in him, your body responding to his touch as you let go of everything except the pure, unadulterated pleasure he gave you.

Toji’s fingers moved with a deliberate intensity, his pace quickening as he watched you unravel beneath him. His focus was sharp, every movement calculated to drive you closer to your limit.

You couldn’t hold back the sounds that escaped you—soft gasps, whispers of his name, every noise pulling him deeper into his need for you. His lips brushed against your skin, kissing along your neck, while his other hand gripped your waist, holding you in place as your body arched against him.

"That's it, baby." he murmured, voice rough and low. The heat between you was almost unbearable, the air thick with the tension that always seemed to surge whenever you were alone together. 

He was lost in you, in the way your body responded to his touch. His fingers curled inside you, hitting just the right spot that made your breath catch, your hips instinctively lifting toward him as the pressure built in your core.

You were so close, the pleasure winding tight within you, and Toji could sense it. His thumb circled your clit with just the right amount of pressure, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through you. 

"You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?" he whispered, his lips grazing your ear, the command in his voice leaving no room for anything else. "Let go. I’ve got you."

And just like that, the tension inside you snapped. Your body tensed, then released in a flood of warmth and sensation, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out, hands clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Toji’s fingers didn’t stop, drawing every last bit of pleasure from you as he held you through it, his lips pressed against your skin, murmuring soft, unintelligible words of praise.

Your body trembled beneath him, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing through you as you tried to catch your breath. Toji slowly withdrew his fingers, but his touch remained gentle, his hand trailing softly along your thigh as he looked down at you, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“You’re perfect like this, baby.” he said quietly, almost to himself. His hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes softening as they met yours. “Always so damn perfect.”

Your body is still coming down from the high when you look at him, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin as he hovers above you, his smirk deepening. There's a glint in his eyes, that unmistakable fire, as if the conversation you’d had earlier is still echoing in the back of his mind. 

You don’t even have to think too hard about it; it’s like an instinct when you tell him, voice breathless, “I want to give you a baby again.”

Toji’s grin widens, his brow arching slightly. “Oh, is that right?” he teases, his hand trailing lazily down your side, lingering on your hip. But then he leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “What’s stopping you then, huh?”

You shake your head vigorously, letting out a soft hum of disagreement, not entirely trusting his intentions. Toji’s always been a dirty fucking liar when it comes to things like this, promising things he knows will make you weak, things you know he’ll never deliver on. 

Yet somehow, even knowing that, you still find it in yourself to love him. And maybe that's why, despite everything, you still let him have you like this, completely bare, letting him slide into you raw, no barriers between you.

He wastes no time, pushing your legs back, your knees nearly pressed up to your chest as he thrusts into you. The intensity is overwhelming, each deep stroke driving you further into the mattress, making your body shake under his relentless pace. 

Toji's grip is strong, controlling, one hand pinning your thigh back as the other rests on your waist, holding you in place like he owns you. And in these moments, it feels like he does.

He has a hold on you in ways you can’t quite explain, two different kinds of control—one physical, the other something deeper, emotional, binding you to him in a way that’s undeniable.

“You’re really getting into it huh, sweetheart?” His voice drips with mock sweetness, but there’s a dark edge to it, each word paired with a heavy, punishing thrust that knocks the breath out of you. “You want me to fill up that sweet little belly?”

His words are a tease, malicious in the way only Toji can be, his voice laced with cruel affection. His grin matches it, sharp and selfish, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, how every filthy promise pushes you closer to the brink. Your mind is spinning, caught between wanting to resist and wanting to give in completely.

Then, his pace slows slightly, his hand gripping your jaw as he forces you to look up at him, his gaze locking with yours. The teasing drops, replaced with something far more commanding. His eyes burn with an intensity that makes your stomach flip, and his voice, low and rough, sends shivers down your spine.

“Gimme fuckin’ words, baby.” he growls, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. “I need words.”

Your breath hitches, the weight of his command settling heavy in the pit of your stomach. You know what he’s asking for—he needs to hear it from you, needs the affirmation that you’re his, that you want this just as much as he does. His pace haughtily picks up again, a merciless rhythm, every thrust driving deeper as he waits for your response.

“I—” you try to catch your breath, your voice shaky as you struggle to form the words. But the sensation is too much, the way he’s filling you, stretching you, making it hard to think about anything but the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. “I want you,” you finally manage, voice barely above a whisper.

Toji’s dark green eyes narrow slightly, unsatisfied with your answer. He grabs your chin harder, his pace growing even more ruthless. “That’s not enough, baby.” he growls, his voice a dangerous rasp. “Tell me. What do you want?”

Your mind is foggy, body trembling beneath him, and you can feel yourself on the edge again, teetering close to the point of no return. His dominance over you in this moment is absolute, and you can’t fight it, can’t resist the pull of his command. 

“I want you to fill me up, babe.” you finally gasp, your words spilling out in a rush, almost desperate. “I want your baby, Toji.”

His response is immediate, a low, satisfied groan rumbling from his chest as he picks up the pace, driving into you with a newfound intensity.

“That’s my good girl right there, hm?” he growls, his grip tightening as he slams into you with brutal force, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re gonna take all of me, aren’t you? Gonna let me give you exactly what you asked for.”

Your body answers for you, already falling apart beneath him as his words send you spiraling into another wave of pleasure. Every thrust pushes you deeper into the mattress, your legs shaking, your breath ragged as Toji takes what’s his, just like he always does.

And even through the haze of pleasure, you know there’s no escaping him. Toji has you—mind, body, and soul—and there’s nothing you wouldn’t give him, nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

Toji’s grip on you tightens as the intensity between you both heightens. His hips slam into yours with an unrelenting force, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, driving you closer to the edge with every movement.

Your husband was too good at playing this game of pleasure. You were hanging on for dear life, stuck in a pleasurable pandemonium. The rough rhythm of his body against yours, combined with the filthy words spilling from his mouth, sends shockwaves through your entire being.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby.” he growls, his voice dark with possession. “You’re gonna let me fill you up, huh? Make you mine all over again, just like you want.”

You can barely form coherent thoughts as your body responds to him, legs trembling with the sheer force of his thrusts. The sounds of your shared breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and the creak of the mattress fill the room, an unspoken rhythm between you two that’s as primal as it is intimate.

You’re completely at his mercy, pinned beneath him, helpless to do anything but feel. This man occupies everything in you as easily as you breathe. And you wanted him. You wanted more of him.

“Toji—” you gasp, his name leaving your lips like a prayer, your nails digging into his shoulders, holding on to him for dear life. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, the heat of his body on yours, the way he’s completely taken over your senses.

He releases one of your legs, shifting slightly to lean down, his lips brushing against your ear, hot and heavy with every breath. “You’re gonna take all of it, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his tone laced with both a command and a dark kind of affection. “Every last drop.”

His words send a jolt through you, pushing you closer to the edge you’ve been teetering on. The pressure builds inside you, winding tight in your belly, threatening to snap at any second. And Toji knows it. He can feel the way your body clenches around him, the way your breath hitches with every thrust.

“Say it again, baby.” he demands, his pace somehow growing even more brutal, hips pounding into you relentlessly. “Tell me what you want.”

Your heart races, and it takes everything in you to gasp out the words between broken breaths. “I want you to fill me up… I want your baby, Toji, please—” Your voice is desperate, the plea tumbling out before you can stop it.

The satisfaction in his eyes is unmistakable, his lips curving into a wicked grin as he growls in response. “Good girl.”

And with that, he pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing beneath him as the pleasure crashes through you, wave after wave, your voice breaking as you cry out.

Toji doesn’t stop, his thrusts driving deeper, harder, drawing every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re left trembling, barely able to catch your breath.

He’s close too; you can feel it in the way his movements grow more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own release. He lets out a low, guttural moan, his pace faltering for a moment before he slams into you one final time, his hips flush against yours as he fills you completely, the warmth of him spilling deep inside you.

Toji’s body goes tense for a brief second, and then he collapses against you, his breath ragged and heavy as he rides out the last waves of his release. His hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, his eyes softened now, the intense fire in them dimmed into something more tender.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, still holding you close, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. “You’re perfect, perfectttt. Just like that, baby.” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, the raw edge gone. “Every damn time.”

You’re still catching your breath, your body exhausted but sated, the warmth of him pressed against you grounding you in the moment. There’s something comforting in the way he holds you after, a quiet reassurance that, despite his teasing and rough exterior, there’s a deep connection between you both that runs far beyond words.

Toji’s body stays pressed against yours, his breathing still heavy as he recovers from the intensity of what you just shared. The room feels warm, the quiet between you filled with the soft sounds of your breathing, the lingering sensation of him still deep inside you. For a moment, it’s peaceful, like you’re both floating in the afterglow.

But that peace doesn’t last long.

You feel him stir against you, his lips brushing over your skin, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone. His hand slides over your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare skin. There’s a shift in the air, a subtle change in his energy that you recognize immediately. He’s not done—not even close.

Your husband recovers so fast, you couldn't even help but wonder what sort of super human he is. When he gets excited, he won't stop until he makes that excitement have fulfilment. And Fushiguro Toji will take an take. His monster of pleasure demands to be full.

“Toji…” you whisper, your voice already betraying the anticipation that’s starting to build again. You feel his smirk against your skin, the low chuckle that vibrates through his chest as he kisses his way up to your neck, nipping softly at your pulse point.

“You didn’t think I was finished with you, did you? Need for my come to take, baby. Need to give you as much as possible.” he murmurs, voice dark with intent. His hand moves down, fingers grazing the inside of your thigh, teasing, as if testing your readiness for what’s to come. “Besides, baby, Iknow you can take more. You always do.”

Before you can even respond, Toji pulls out of you slowly, the absence of him leaving you aching, only to have him slide back in a moment later—deeper, harder, the sudden stretch drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He groans softly, his hands gripping your hips as he starts moving, this time with a slower, more deliberate rhythm.

His hips roll against yours, each thrust precise, dragging out the sensation with agonizing slowness. You can feel him fully, every inch of him stretching you, filling you up completely as he starts to build up the intensity again. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to take more of you.

“Toji—” you moan, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back as he presses you deeper into the mattress.

“Shh, baby. ” he whispers, leaning down so that his lips are inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m gonna take my time with you, like I always do. You'd let me, won't you, mama?”

And he does. He moves at his own pace, each thrust measured and controlled, as if he’s savoring every second of being inside you. His eyes lock onto yours, that commanding intensity from earlier returning as he watches every reaction you give him.

It’s almost too much, the way he’s making you feel so exposed, so vulnerable beneath him, but you can’t tear your gaze away. You’re completely at his mercy. Perhaps even more than before. It was just the way it was between the two of you. And you can't help but want it.

His hand moves between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, tight circles that send sparks shooting through your core. The combination of his deep, deliberate thrusts and the focused attention on your most sensitive spot is overwhelming, and you can already feel the pressure building again, faster this time.

“You’re such a good baby girl, my little wife, huh?” he groans, his voice gravelly with desire. “You love it, don’t you? Love the way I fuck you, mama.”

You nod, unable to form words, your body reacting to him instinctively. His thick thumb presses harder against your clit, and your hips buck up toward him, chasing the pleasure that’s building so quickly it’s almost dizzying.

“Use your words, my baby. I need your words to be clear, hm?” he orders, his voice sharp and commanding. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“I— I love it, babe. I….Oh–” you gasp, barely able to get the words out as the pleasure coils tight inside you. “I love how you fuck me, Toji.”

“That’s it, baby. Good girl, my pretty wife.” he groans, his pace picking up as he drives into you harder now, more relentlessly. “You’re gonna come for me again, aren’t you? Like the good little wife you are? Gonna make me a daddy again, huh?”

You can feel yourself getting closer, every nerve in your body on fire as he takes you right to the edge again. His hand doesn’t stop, rubbing firm circles against your clit, and the pressure inside you becomes unbearable.

“Toji, please—” you moan, your voice desperate.

“I know, baby, I know.” he whispers, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming rougher, more erratic as he chases his own release. “Come for me. I want to feel you fall apart again.”

His words push you over the edge, and your orgasm crashes through you, harder than before. Your body clenches around him, back arching as your eyes squeeze shut, the pleasure almost too much to handle. Toji groans low in his throat as he feels you tighten around him, his hips slamming into yours as he rides out every wave of your release.

You’re barely coming down from your high when you feel him thrust into you one last time, his grip on your hips bruising as he finally lets go, his own release hitting him hard. He moans your name, the sound of it rough and primal, as he fills you completely, his body going rigid above you.

For a long moment, neither of you move, the room filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, your bodies still tangled together. Toji’s weight is comforting against you, grounding you as you come back down from the intensity of everything that just happened.

Finally, he pulls out slowly, rolling onto his back beside you. His arm reaches out, pulling you close so that you’re curled against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. There’s a soft, satisfied hum in his throat as he presses a kiss to your forehead, his fingers lazily stroking your arm.

“You’re something else, baby.” he murmurs, his voice full of lazy affection, though there’s still that edge of satisfaction in it, like he knows exactly how much control he has over you.

You don’t need to respond—he already knows how deeply he affects you, how much you need him just as much as he needs you. And as you lie there in the quiet, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you can’t help but think about how, despite all of Toji’s roughness and teasing, there’s no place you’d rather be than here, in his arms. And you wish, so desperately, that you could give him another child. 

══════════════════

epilogue

The next morning, you’re still tangled up in the sheets, but it’s not out of luxury. You try to move, but as soon as you shift an inch, your body protests with an aching reminder of exactly what Toji had done to you last night. Every muscle feels like it’s been through a battle, and you can't help but groan as you flop back onto the bed, surrendering to the pain.

From the doorway, you hear the sound of little footsteps padding across the floor. Megumi toddles in, clutching a stuffed animal under his arm, his wide eyes peeking over the edge of the bed. Behind him, Toji strides in, smirking like the smug devil he is.

“Morning, baby.” Toji says, far too chipper for someone who’d spent the entire night wrecking you. He’s holding a tray with what looks like breakfast—eggs, toast, and even a small bowl of fruit—but what stands out is the cup of coffee that you need more than air right now.

“Morning.” you croak, wincing as you try to sit up, only to immediately regret it. “I can’t feel my legs, babe. Pretty sure you broke me.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, clearly proud of himself. “Yeah? Thought you liked it when I went all out.”

“Liking it and being able to walk after are two different things, you know.” you grumble, pulling the blanket up higher as Megumi stares at you with that same curious expression.

Toji sets the tray down on the bedside table, then leans down to kiss your forehead. “Guess I’ll have to carry you everywhere today, huh?” His voice is thick with amusement, and you shoot him a half-hearted glare, but honestly, you’re too tired to fight back.

“Please do, babe. I’m basically a noodle.”

Just then, Megumi climbs up onto the bed, his little hands gripping the edge as he pulls himself up with determination. He plops down beside you, his stuffed animal tucked under his chin. You smile, your heart warming despite the soreness, and Toji hands you the tray, still smirking like he’s king of the world.

“Breakfast in bed, as promised,” he says, crossing his arms like he’s just done you the biggest favor in the world. “Made it with Megumi. Though, uh, you might wanna avoid the toast. He helped with that.”

You glance down at the toast in question, one piece charred to a crisp, the other half-raw in the middle. “I see his culinary skills are coming along nicely.”

Toji laughs, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “Hey, he’s learning. Can’t all be naturals like me.”

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can shoot back a sarcastic remark, Megumi climbs into Toji’s lap, looking between the two of you with that innocent, wide-eyed look only toddlers can pull off. “Hm, hm. I love my good house husband, really.”

“As you should, baby.” He snickers back at you. “No one else will be like this for you but me.”

“I know, I know.” You say as you continue to eat.

He smiles and kisses your head. “Good.”

“Toji, babe….” you say, setting the tray aside and carefully reaching out to ruffle Megumi’s hair. “If I can’t walk today, you're on diaper duty.”

Toji looks genuinely horrified for a split second. "Now, wait a minute—"

"All your fault, Mr. 'let me give you a baby,’" you tease, biting into your eggs while giving him a pointed look. "So, now you get to deal with the consequences."

Megumi looks up at him, blinking with his bright big eyes, and Toji sighs dramatically. "Fine, fine." he says, giving you that classic Toji smirk. “But next time, you’re gettin’ the easy job.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s a playful smile on your face. “Next time, maybe go easy on me so I can still stand.”

Toji grins, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, voice low and teasing. “No promises, baby.”

And with that, the morning unfolds with you lounging in bed, Fushiguro Megumi occasionally wandering over to offer you his stuffed animal, and Toji trying (and failing) to get through diaper duty without swearing under his breath. You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him, the big, tough man reduced to toddler chaos.

But despite everything;

the soreness, the teasing, the burnt toast—you wouldn’t have it any other way.

This is life.

[darkbluekies]

Intruder 2024 ver

Yandere!mafia OC x reader

Summary: finding a mystical USB in your bag leads to more danger you ever could have anticipated. It leads you straight into the arms of a well respected mob boss.

Warnings: gore, kidnapping, breaking in, chains, crime, yandere

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: I thought it could be fun to remake my first one-shot almost 2 years later to see how I have improved! I hope you like the new version♡

Your hands tear through the bag, impatiently looking for the lip balm that is somewhere in the mess of papers, water bottles, wallets and receipts. Your head is pounding, your back is sore and your fucking lips are dry and you can’t think of anything else. You grab the backpack and turn it upside down, shaking it violently until every little thing has fallen out. Receipts dingle down like snowflakes. The lip balm falls out on the wooden floor and when you bend down to take it, you notice that it’s lying beside something that you can swear that you have never seen before. A white USB. Confused, you turn it around, looking for some kind of indication to remind you of what it contains. No tape, no pen, nothing. You sigh and stand up. Before walking over to your computer to figure out what contains on the USB, you smother your lips in lip balm. It gets in your mouth, tasting buttery and putting a greasy layer on your front teeth.

You sit down in front of your computer, boot it up and press the USB into the right port. If you see what is on it, maybe you’ll remember what you have used it for. It takes a few moments before a file pops up at the bottom of your screen. You press on it and are met by multiple folders, all having cryptic titles.

When have I ever done this?

Is this a Friday night drunk act? It would be an answer to why you don’t remember anything about it. You decide to press on one of the folders. Pictures and videos. Hundreds of them. You click on the first picture. What meets your eyes puzzle you. For a few seconds you can’t even process what you are looking at. A mushy red sponge-looking … something. When it hits you that what you are looking at is a dead, mangled body you gasp and shoot your chair away from your desk. A wave of mixed fear, disgust and disbelief washes over you as millions of questions bash into your head. Panicked worries about where the USB came from, who was in the picture, how many more there are like this, why you have the USB and if you would get in trouble and. If you give the USB to the police, would they find you suspicious? Would they think that you had anything to do with this? And will the ones who owns this USB kill you for it?

You find yourself pacing back and forth in your room as your heart beats in your ears. What are you going to do? You have to get rid of it. Quickly.

You turn back to the computer and pull the USB out as quickly as if it was on fire. The grotesque picture disappears. You drop the white stick into your pocket, as if it was really in flames. Just holding it made you feel dirty. You wipe your hands on your shirt, expecting it to smear blood. Nauseous, you run to the bathroom. Despite washing your hands in water and soap until your heads become gnarly and sore, you feel as if you have murdered that poor girl yourself and nothing will clear you of what you have witnessed.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in the bathroom, how long you’ve tried to wash yourself of sin and guilt. Suddenly, the front door’s lock seems to click. You freeze, listen closely. Perhaps it isn’t your door? You quickly find that it is, indeed, your front door creaking open. Quickly, you get into the bathtub and hide behind the curtain. Your entire body trembled.

“Little thing”, a deep voice sing-songs in what can only be interpreted as amusement. “I see that you have something that belongs to me.”

The voice is unfamiliar, which is only for the best. You’re able to locate him in your bedroom.

The click of a gun snapping in place makes you flinch against the ceramic tub. If he finds you, you will die.

“Don’t try to hide from me.” You can hear the evident smile in his voice. “I know that you are here somewhere. I saw you on that low resonate web cam of yours just ten minutes ago! I don’t have time to play hide and seek with you. The longer I have to look for you, the less fun it’ll be for you when I find you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, praying that all of this is a horrible nightmare. Your chest is burning with fear. All you want is to scream and cry, plead and beg for your pitiful little life.

“Little thing, I know that you saw some gruesome stuff on that USB”, he says, his voice now drenched in false pity. “Don’t you want to get rid of that horrible filth, hm? I can take it off your hands. Just come out and give it to me and I will spare your life. What do you say?”

A silence follows. An excruciating silence that makes you want to claw out of your own skin. You prepare yourself to see him ripping the curtain away and putting a bullet through your skull.

“Oh, would you look at that?” His voice appears again, back to the amusement. “A call from your mother? Let’s answer, shall we?”

Panic goes through your entire body as you realize that he has your phone — and, indirectly, your mother, in his hands. You can’t let your family be involved in this! The more people who know, the more people will be in danger and the harder it will be to get out of this mess.

You hurry out of the bathtub, out of the bathroom. You make your way down the corridor and storm into your bedroom. The man is tall with hair as dark as night and when he looks over his shoulder you can tell that his eyes, as well, are as dark as his ruthless soul. He’s standing in front of the same computer you watched the picture on — the same computer he claims he saw you through. He smiles at you, a triumphed ‘i told you so’ smile.

“Please don’t”, you beg. “Don’t answer the call. Please.”

He clicks away the phone call before throwing the phone on the bed. He turns to you. He’s wearing a black suit.

“There you are”, he smirks and tilts his head. “You look much better in person.”

With trembling fingers you fish the USB out of your pocket and throw it at his feet. He looks at it for a few seconds, appearing clueless.

“Take it!” you shriek. “Take it and leave me alone!”

The man scoffs out a surprised laugh and lifts his eyebrows before slowly bending down and picking it up. He looks at it for a few seconds and then at you, meeting your eyes. They’re surprisingly calm.

“Please, just take it and go.” Your voice is barely audible.

The man stays silent for a few seconds before opening his mouth again. “I don’t think I can.”

“W-What? I haven’t done anything, I don’t know how it ended up in my bag, I didn’t steal it. I don’t even know when or how I got it.”

The man seems amused by your rambling. As if he’s hearing a little kid try to reassure their innocence in a sandbox fight.

“I know that you haven’t done anything”, the man calmly answers. “My man’s incompetence of carrying an USB is not your fault. But you have seen what’s on it. You know what it is, don’t you?”

“No”, you lie and shake your head.

He scoffs. “I saw you on your webcam. I know that you understood what was on it. Do you think I can just let you off the hook and walk straight to the police? Now that you’ve seen me too?”

You are going to die. Holy shit.

“I-I won’t tell anyone!” you stutter and start to back away from him. “I will pretend that I have never seen anything. No one will know. Please.”

Before you have time to run, he grabs your arm and pulls you back to him. You scream and try to fight back, but he’s bigger, stronger. He slams his hand over your mouth, forces your back against his chest. You sob and shake your head, your pleas getting muffled by his hand.

“Don’t cry, pretty thing”, he says. “It doesn't suit you.”

With that said, he pulls you out of the apartment. You can feel the gun in his pocket poking your back. You have never been this scared before, and have no idea what your body will do when it is this panicked. To your surprise, it decides to black out.

For a few seconds you're sure that you have dreamt the worst nightmare in your life, until you open your eyes and find that you aren't in your bed. You aren't even in your apartment. Quick eyes search around. A bunker or a basement. Those are your best guesses. Blood, both dried and fresh, covers the cement walls. You hurry to look around your body to make sure that none of the blood belongs to you. For the moment you seem to be unharmed. But for how long? You have chains around your wrists, ankles and throat to keep you in place. Like a dog. You repeat your name, your background and family in your head, just to not go completely insane. Will you ever see them again?

You damn that little piece of plastic and metal, wish that it would self-destruct and ruin that man's life. Such a little thing got you in such big trouble.

A door creaks open above you and your man starts to walk down the stairs to the basement. He's wearing a black buttoned shirt. He has something in his hands.

“Awake now?” he says.

You don't answer. He strolls over to where you're sitting and crouches down. He reaches out for you, removing some hair from your forehead. You will bite his fingers off if he doesn't keep them to himself.

You glare at him. You wish that your eyes could penetrate his skin and pierce his ice cold heart.

“What's your name?” he asks.

“Why do you want to know?” you ask carefully.

“It might be so that you'll have to stay here with me for a while. Telling me your name will make it easier for me to talk to you.”

“What's your name, then?” you ask.

He smiles, and the smile is almost soft. He seems amused by your counter question.

“Silas”, he says. “Achilleos.”

The name rings a bell in your brain. You've heard his name before. On the news. He's a mob boss. Your eyes widen. You really have screwed yourself beyond belief.

“My name won't hurt you”, he smiles.

“It's not the name I'm scared of”, you mutter.

“And your name?”

You hesitate. You know better than to give your name to a literal mob boss, but you also know better than to lie to one.

“Y/N”, you whisper, hoping that he won't hear and that you won't have to repeat yourself.

Silas makes himself more comfortable on the cold, hard floor. He leans on his arm.

“I have to say that I am genuinely sorry for this”, he says. “I don't like pulling innocent people into something they don't have anything to do with. Especially this kind of shit. I have more important things to do. My man stupidly dropped the USB into your bag and now that you have seen what's on it and know who I am, I can't let you go.”

Maybe you shouldn't have asked for his name.

“Normally, I would have killed you”, he says. “But I think that I'm going to keep you for a little while. You interest me.”

You lift your heavy, chained hands and cover your face. Sobbing. Silas removes your hands and lifts your chin up with his index finger.

“Let's make a deal, shall we?” he asks. “I will not hurt you … if you do as I say.”

“So I can't go home again?”

“No, because the second you put that USB in your computer, and I got the notification that someone had opened it, you’ve belonged to me.”

Beyond screwed isn't even enough to describe what you are.

“So?” Silas says. “Do we have a deal?”

What choice do you even have? You nod shortly.

“Good”, Silas says.

He reveals what he had in his hands when walking down the stairs. A small yogurt packet and a spoon. The text on the packet isn't in English.

“I used to eat this when I was a kid”, he says and opens the lid, giving it to you. “I guess that you're hungry.”

You shovel it into your mouth. It tastes like strawberry and is smooth in texture. It's first after eating it all that you remember who gave it to you and perhaps that you shouldn't have eaten it.

“No, I haven't poisoned it”, Silas scoffs. “Didn't I just tell you that I have planned to keep you alive?”

“You could have lied”, you whisper.

He scoffs again as he starts to remove the chains. The weight drops off of you like angel light. Silas pulls you up on your feet, buy your knees buckle the second you try to put pressure on them. Silas catches you and lifts you up in his arms. He carries you up the stairs, to a hall, and then up another flight of stairs. Your body aches.

Silas walks into a bedroom, dressed in modern interior design. You're placed down on a king sized bed, tucked in under heavy blankets. The crinkle of chains makes you flinch. Silas lifts an identical cuff to the ones you wore five minutes ago.

“This is just to keep you here”, he explains and places it around your wrist. “Sleep now.”

With that said, he walks out and leaves you alone. The door closes. You tug at the chain, but it's obvious that you'll stay there. Too tired to cry, you sink down on the mattress. Too alert to fall asleep you stare up at the ceiling. A thought crosses your mind, quick and easy, buy loud enough for your heart to ache. You have to get out of here before it's too late.

[verstappen-cult]

Max enjoys cockwarming

content warnings ��� disclaimers. fem!reader. cockwarming. fluff. mentions of anxiety & mentions of sex.

It all started one night after one of his races. You hadn't seen each other for a few weeks due to a triple header and your own work. But you were able to find a weekend to drop by and surprise him.

He was surprised. And excited. You had a particularly hot make out session, with a little dry humping that left you both flustered when one of Red Bull's team members knocked on Max's door to let him know that he was needed for the National Anthem. After that, you didn't see much of him. He won, he looked like an angel on the top step of the podium with the sun shinning his face, and then was carried away by another team member for the interviews and debrief with his team. You didn't see each other again until later that night. Max was tired, barely standing, but a few kisses here and there were enough to have him moaning and whining because "I've missed being inside of you." and so you came up with an idea.

Max loves the feeling of you sitting on his lap, his cock buried deep inside of you, as he sits at his desk to read and answer some e-mails or attend meetings (with the camera turned off). He likes the feeling of connection and intimacy, the closeness that you two share. Max always makes sure you're comfortable by wrapping a blanket over your body and asking from time to time. He also makes sure you know you can stop it at any time you want — that's why you have a non-verbal safeword too. Max learned, after the third time you did it, that sometimes you can get a little lost inside your head, and verbal communication can be hard during those times; so, three taps on his shoulder is the signal for him to pull out or answer every time he asks you if you’re feeling good.

He finds it comforting. It helps him relax or focus when needed.

Most of your cuddling session consist of cuddling on the couch or in bed while one of your favorite movies or a new show plays as he slips inside of you.

And is not just Max that likes it. Sometimes he would be sitting on the couch reading or watching some of the past races while taking notes, and you would sit next to him, unzip his pants and put his cock in your mouth. Feeling the weight of his cock and the unique taste in your tongue helps you calm those anxious feelings you sometime don't know how to handle. Most of the time you fall asleep with his cock in your mouth while he keeps doing what he was doing in the first place. You don't know who enjoys the sensation more, if you or him.

It helps Max with his anxiety too. Some times when you're on your way to an event and Max can't stop fidgeting or tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, all you need to do is exchange a look to know whether he wants it or not. And, more often than not, you end up leaning over to pull the zipper down and slip his cock inside your mouth while he drives, one hand caressing your hair, fingers running through it or resting on your nape, from time to time.

Most times is about intimacy and feeling close than having sex. But there are times when you just can’t contain yourselves any longer. Max would thrust his hips up, taking your breath away, or you would start bobbing up and down, taking as much as you can in your mouth. It isn’t so rare for that to happen.

Max enjoys cockwarming.

He truly, really likes it.

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[fics-lovebot]

satoru gojo fic rec

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs ;)))

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

disclaimer: if you came back looking for that one fire fic and you can´t find it, it´s bc it doesn't exist anymore :( so i deleted it

LAST UPDATED: 08/08/2024

gojo

gojo eating you out - ( @happybird16 )

gojo x dacryphilia - ( @happybird16 )

gojo loves fat pussy - ( @tohokuu )

sending gojo an accidental nude so he sends you a whole video - ( @satoruhour )

gojo tried to give himself a haircut and now wants to go bald - ( @enkvyu ) this is fuNNY ksksks, I love the banter

trying to break up with yandere!gojo - ( @peachsayshi ) yep, we´re talkin about lovesick toxic obsessed type of gojo, break up????? you know better than to tell him that sooo since you´re acting dUMB he has to fucc so sense into you bc, clearly, you forgot who tf ur talking to - LDKJSDFJDJFHLSHFLSHDF but he´s not rough bc he luvss you a lot

insecure bully!gojo - ( @saetoru ) angst, lil fluff, he´s a bully and he´s in love, but its not enough. part 2

the horniest - ( @arminsumi ) smut, ITS SO GOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDD, he´s horny af, pussy drunk, obsessed, borderline crazy for that wap

phone calls - ( @kingkonoha ) slice of life, hubby!gojo, dilf!gojo, his wife and his daughter are his only priority, this is so sdkfjskdjfh :´( i love it

best of the best - ( @saetoru ) smut, fwb! satoru, big sHIT talker omg, he lit asks you to be his gf wHILE he´s making you cum,,,,,best bf ever tho

love struck - ( @xxsabitoxx ) fluffy, ex-fuckboy!satoru, he´s experiencing love for the first time :((((( IT´S SO CUTEEEEEEEEEE

love dumb - ( @arminsumi ) fluff, blurb, you make him lose his composure, can´t even focus bc you´re over there existing, someone should make a longer version of this! so good

too much - ( @risuola ) ANGSTTTYYYY, fluff too, reader and gojo are in a situationship kinda thing where they live together and love each other but nothing has been said yet, they get into an argument bc gojo has a big mouth and says a lot of hurtful things, they´re both just so exhausted

i know you still think about the times we had - ( @saetoru ) angst, fluff, rich bf!gojo, his father makes you break up with him, it´s so angsty omg, they get into this HUGE argument bc gojo´s dad is a controlling mf

sanctuary - ( @arminsumi ) fluff, lowkey angst, weak!reader, bully!gojo, nah he´s just in love but doesn´t know how to say it

the road to falling in love - ( @itadorey ) fluff, strangers to lovers, it´s a collection o moments where keeps falling harder for you, I LOVE ITTTTT, sdkfjhskdjf it´s kinda slow burn but not boring at all

yuji finds out gojo has a family - ( @kingkonoha ) fluff, lowkey angst, hubby!gojo, dad!gojo, so,,, this made me cry, i love yuji sm he deserves the world :( this is part two and it also made me crY MY MF EYES OUT :))))))))

i´ll meet you forever in this memory - ( @gorejo ) fluff, college au, married life au, it´s so good, he lit has this big ass plan to make you fall for him, and i mean big, like planned way ahead lmao, 10 years later he´s still asking you to go out with him,,,,even if you´re already married sdlfkjkdfhlsdjh so so cute

can´t stop drinking - ( @kingkonoha ) ANGST, death, blood, dad!gojo, husband!gojo, mentions of wanting to die, a curse kills you and your son allegedly but in reality the elders had lied to him all these years, part 2 made me fucking cry, PLEASEEE I NEED PART 3

hype man - ( @satoruoo ) crack, fluff, supportive bf!gojo, he´s such an amazing bf :( “damn, my girl ran you over with a bus, reversed, then got out and shot you twice in the foot? what did you do?? sounds like a you issue.” LMAOOOOO this is so cute and funny at the same time, i love it, such a gojo thing to say

flicker of flame - ( @tteokdoroki ) fluff, nervous soon to be dad!gojo, pregnant!reader, he´s going to be the best dad ever

mirror´s pov - ( @teddybeartoji ) smut, "satoru likes jerking off in front of a mirror" YUP, a whole POV of him beating his meat to the thought of you BEAUTIFULLY written, very detailed

missionary - ( @babiexiao ) smut, fluff, THIS IS SO :(((( so beautiful

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Happy New Year.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - may 2025, bring everyone joy and happiness. 🎆🎇, here’s a little something from me to you.

word count - 700.

in which, this new years is the most different one that you and harry have ever spent together, instead of going out to a party, your both cuddled up on the sofa with your newborn fast asleep on there daddies chest.

The living room is quiet except for the soft hum of the television in the corner, where the countdown to midnight ticks away.

The lights are dim, and the Christmas tree in the corner still twinkles faintly, a reminder of how much life has changed in the past two weeks.

Harry sits on the couch, his chest bare, his hair tousled in that effortlessly messy way that makes your heart flutter.

Your baby boy is fast asleep on his chest, his tiny body rising and falling with Harry’s steady breaths.

A soft muslin cloth is draped over Harry’s shoulder—evidence of a just-in-case burp that never came.

You’re curled up beside him, your legs tucked beneath you, watching them both with a soft smile.

"Ten seconds," you whisper, glancing at the screen, the numbers counting down the last moments of 2024.

"Still feels weird, doesn't it?" Harry murmurs, his voice hushed, careful not to wake the baby. His fingers gently stroke the baby’s back, his touch so tender it makes your chest ache. "Not being out f’once, I don’t think we’ve ever stayed in f’new years eve."

You smile, reaching over to run your fingers through his curls. "I don’t think I’d rather be anywhere but here, with you, with him."

Harry looks down at the baby, his lips curving into the softest smile you’ve ever seen. "Neither can I.”

‘Eight…’

"Do you think he’ll be the kind of kid who loves fireworks?" you ask, tilting your head to watch Harry’s expression.

He shrugs, his dimples peeking out as he grins. "Depends. F’he’s like me, probably not. I was always the kid hiding under the kitchen table when they went off."

‘Seven…’

You laugh softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Not me. I loved them. Always wanted to be out in the middle of it all."

Harry tilts his head to rest against yours. "Maybe he’ll take after y’then. Brave little thing."

‘Six…’

The baby stirs slightly, his tiny hand flexing against Harry’s chest, and you both freeze. But he settles again, his soft breaths steady and warm.

"See? Told y’he was brave," Harry whispers, his eyes never leaving the baby.

‘Five…’

You reach out and trace the curve of your son’s cheek, marveling again at how perfect he is. "Can you believe we made him? Like... he’s real."

Harry chuckles softly, his laugh vibrating through the baby’s tiny body. "I know. I keep thinking someone’s gonna knock on the door and tell us s’been a mistake. Like, 'Sorry, y’not allowed to keep him—y’just two kids pretending t’be grown-ups.'"

‘Four…’

"Speak for yourself," you tease. "I’m very mature, thank you."

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, really? Is that why you cried over the last chocolate biscuit yesterday?"

‘Three…’

"That was different," you huff, nudging him gently. "I’m postpartum. I’m allowed to cry over biscuits."

"Fair enough," he concedes, leaning over to kiss the top of your head.

‘Two…’

You both fall quiet, the weight of the moment settling over you.

The new year is seconds away, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel like something you’re rushing toward.

It feels... still.

Peaceful.

Like everything you’ve ever wanted is right here in this room.

‘One…’

Harry looks at you then, his green eyes warm and full of love.

"Happy New Year, m’love."

"Happy New Year," you whisper back, your voice catching slightly.

The television erupts into cheers and fireworks, but it feels distant. Harry leans in, kissing you softly, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The baby snores softly between you, oblivious to the world.

When you pull back, Harry grins. "Best New Year’s ever."

You nod, leaning against him and resting your hand over the baby’s back. "And it’s only just beginning."

[badnewswhatsleft]

rock sound #312 (nov 2024)

transcript below cut:

ROCK SOUND 25 ICON

FALL OUT BOY

A BAND THAT CAPTURED THE HEARTS, MINDS AND HEADPHONES OF A GENERATION OF KIDS WORLDWIDE, FALL OUT BOY UNDOUBTEDLY CHANGED THE LANDSCAPE OF THE ALTERNATIVE SCENE FOREVER, NEVER AFRAID TO EXPERIMENT, TAKE CHANCES AND MAKE BOLD CHOICES AS THEY PUSHED FORWARD. FOLLOWING A SUMMER SPENT EXPLORING THE 'DAYS OF FALL OUT PAST', PATRICK STUMP AND PETE  WENTZ REFLECT ON THEIR PATH FROM POP PUNK, HARDCORE MISFITS TO ALL-CONQUERING, STADIUM-FILLING SONGWRITERS AS THEY ACCEPT THEIR ROCK SOUND 25 ICON AWARD.

WORDS JAMES WILSON-TAYLOR

PHOTOS ELLIOTT INGHAM

Let's begin with your most recent performance which was at When We Were Young festival in Las Vegas. It was such a special weekend, how are you reflecting on that moment?

PATRICK: It's wild, because the band, I think, is going on 23 years now, which really came as a surprise to me. I know it's this thing that old people always say, 'Man, it really goes by so fast', but then it happens to you and you're just taken aback. There were so many times throughout the weekend, every 10 minutes, where I'd turn around and see somebody and be like, 'Holy shit, I haven't seen you in 18 years', or something crazy like that. It was hard not to have a good time. When I was going up to perform with Motion City Soundtrack, which was an exciting thing in itself, I turn around and Bayside is there. And I haven't seen Bayside since we toured with them. God, I don't remember when that was, you know? So there was so much of that. You couldn't help but have a good time.

PETE: I mean, that's an insane festival, right? When they announce it, it looks fake every time. The lineup looks like some kid drew it on their folder at school. For our band, the thing that's a little weird, I think, is that by deciding to change between every album, and then we had the three year break which caused another big time jump, I think that it would be hard for us to focus on one album for that show. We're a band where our fans will debate the best record. So it was amazing that we were able to look backwards and try to build this show that would go through all the eras - nod to Taylor obviously on that one. But it's also an insane idea to take a show that should really be put on for one weekend in a theatre and then try to take it around the world at festivals. The whole time on stage for this particular show production, I'm just like 'Is this thing going to go on time?' Because if the whole thing is working totally flawlessly, it just barely works, you know what I mean? So I give a lot of credit to our crew for doing that, because it's not really a rock show. I know we play rock music and it's a rock festival, but the show itself is not really a rock production, and our crew does a very good job of bending that to fit within the medium.

That show allows you to nod to the past but without falling fully into nostalgia. You are still pushing the band into newer places within it.

PATRICK: That's always been a central thing. We're a weird band, because a lot of bands I know went through a period of rejecting their past, and frankly, I encounter this thing a lot, where people have expected that we stopped interacting with older material. But we always maintained a connection with a lot of the older music. We still close with 'Saturday'. So for us, it was never about letting go of the past. It was about bringing that along with you wherever you go. I'm still the same weird little guy that likes too much music to really pin down. It's just that I've carried that with me through all the different things that I've done and that the band has done. So for us, in terms of going forward and playing new stuff, that's always the thing that's important to me; that there should be new stuff to propel it. I never wanted to be an artist that just gave up on new music and went out and played the hits and collected the check and moved on. It's all got to be creative. That's why I do it. I want to make new music. That's always why I do it. So something like When We Were Young is kind of odd really. It's an odd fit for that, because it's nostalgic, which is not really my vibe all that much. But I found a lot of nostalgia in it. I found a lot of value in looking back and going 'Wow, this was really cool. It was amazing that we did this, that we all did this'. That scene of bands, we're all old now, but it has taken off into such a moment culturally that people can point to.

Let's jump all the way back to the first ever Fall Out Boy show. There is very little evidence of it available online but what are your memories of that performance?

PATRICK: So the very first Fall Out Boy show was at DePaul University in a fancy looking dining hall. I actually applied to DePaul, but I never went there because the band went on tour. I think there were only two or three other bands. One was a band called Stillwell, who were kind of a math rock emo band, and then this heavier, more metallic band. And then we were there, and we had a guitar player, John Flamandan, who I have not seen since that show. He was only in the band for a week or two, and we were still figuring ourselves out. We had three songs and I had never sung before in front of people. I did a talent show at school one time when I was a kid and theatre kind of stuff where you would sing, but it was more in that context. And I was also a kid too. This was the first time ever that I'm the singer for a band and I was fucking terrified. We had a drummer named Ben Rose, really great guy. I haven't seen Ben in a million years, either, but we were still figuring ourselves out. The other thing is that all of us, with me being the exception, were in other bands, and all of our other bands were better than Fall Out Boy was. We were very sloppy and didn't know what we were doing, and so I don't think any of us really took it seriously. But there was a thing that was really funny about it, where even though we kind of thought we sucked, and even though we weren't really focusing on it, we had a lot of fun with each other. We enjoyed trying this other thing, because we were hardcore kids, and we were not the pop punk kids and the pop punk bands in town, that was like 'the thing', and we were not really welcome in that. There was a fun in trying to figure out how to make melodic and pop music when we really didn't have any history with that. It was very obvious that we didn't know what we were doing at the beginning.

So when did it begin to feel like things were finally clicking? When did you find your roles and what you wanted the band to be? 

PETE: In regards to the music, I liked Fall Out boy, way before I probably should have. I remember playing the early demos and it giving me a feeling that I hadn't felt with any of the other bands that I had been in. Now, looking back on it, I might have been a tad early on that. Then as far as the roles, I think that they've been carving themselves out over time. We've always allowed ourselves to gravitate to our strengths. Between me and Patrick, we'd probably make one great, atypical rock artist if we were one person. Because our strengths are things that the other doesn't love as much. But I think that what has happened more is it's less of a fight now and there's more trust. We have a trust with each other. There's things that Patrick will play for me or explain to me, and I don't even really need him to explain it, because I trust him. I may not totally understand it, but I trust him as an artist. On the other side of that, it's also very nice to have someone who can veto your idea, you know what I mean? It's nice to have those kind of checks and balances.

PATRICK: I had been in this band called Patterson, and all three of the other guys sang in kind of a gravelly, Hot Water Music vibe. I was not intending to be a singer, but I would try and sing backups and, it wasn't a criticism, but there was this vibe that, while I could do the gravelly thing, my voice was coming through and it didn't fit. It was too pretty and that became a thing I was kind of embarrassed of. So when Fall Out Boy started, I was actively trying to disguise that and mute it and hide behind affectation. Pete would really push me to stretch my vowels because that was in vogue in pop punk at the time. There were all these different ways that we were trying to suppress me, musically, because we were just trying to figure out how to do the things that the bands we liked did. But that wasn't really us, you know? It's really funny, because 'Take This To Your Grave' was recorded in three sections, about six months apart. Over the course of that time, I can hear us figuring it out. I think a really defining moment for me was 'Saturday', because I am not brave, I am not a bold person, and I do not put myself out there. When I was showing the band 'Saturday', we were jamming on the bit after the second chorus, and I was mumbling around, just mucking my way through it, and I did the falsetto thing. I didn't think anyone could hear me over us bashing around in Joe's parents house in this tiny little room. But Pete stopped, and he goes, 'Do that again'. I was so terrified of doing that in front of these guys, because you gotta remember, I was incredibly shy, but also a drummer. I'd never sung in front of anyone before, and now I'm singing in a band and I'm certainly not going to take chances. So I thought the falsetto thing was really not going to happen, but when I did it, there was this really funny thing. Somehow that song clicked, and it opened up this door for us where we do something different than everybody else. We were aiming to be a pop punk or hardcore band, but we found this thing that felt more natural to me.

As you embarked on Warped Tour, simultaneously you were finding this huge level of pop and mainstream success. How was it navigating and finding your way through those two very different spaces?

PATRICK: I used to work at a used record store and what shows up is all the records after their success. So I got really acquainted and really comfortable with and prepared for the idea of musical failure. I just wanted to do it because I enjoyed doing it. But in terms of planning one's life, I was certain that I would, at most, get to put out a record and then have to go to school when it didn't work out. My parents were very cautious. I said to them after 'Take This To Your Grave' came out that I'm gonna see where this goes, because I didn't expect to be on a label and get to tour. I'm gonna give it a semester, and then it will almost certainly fail, and then after it fails, I'll go to school. And then it didn't fail. Warped Tour was very crazy too, I was talking about this at When We Were Young with My Chem. Both of us were these little shit bands that no one cared about when we booked the tour. Then we got to the tour, and all these people were showing up for us, way more than we expected, way more than Warped Tour expected. So Warped Tour was putting both of us on these little side stages, and the stages would collapse because people were so excited. It was this moment that came out of nowhere all of a sudden. Then we go to Island Records, and I had another conversation with my parents, because every band that I had known up to that point, even the biggest bands in town, they would have their big indie record and then they would go to the major label and drop off the face of the planet forever. So I was certain that was going to happen. I told them again, I'm going to put out this record, and then I'll go to school when this fails. 

PETE: I think that if you really wanted someone to feel like an alien, you would put them on TRL while they were on Warped Tour. You know what I mean? Because it is just bananas. On our bus, the air conditioning didn't work, so we were basically blowing out heat in the summer, but we were just so happy to be on a bus and so happy to be playing shows. You go from that to, two days later, stepping off the bus to brush your teeth and there's a line of people wanting to watch you brush your teeth. In some ways, it was super cool that it was happening with My Chemical Romance too because it didn't feel as random, right? It feels more meant to be. It feels like something is happening. To be on Warped Tour at that time - and if you weren't there, it would be probably hard to imagine, because it's like if Cirque Du Soleil had none of the acrobatics and ran on Monster energy drink. It was a traveling circus, but for it to reach critical mass while we were there, in some ways, was great, because you're not just sitting at home. In between touring, I would come home and I'd be sitting in my bedroom at my parents house. I would think about mortality and the edge of the whole thing and all these existential thoughts you feel when you're by yourself. But on Warped Tour, you go to the signing, you play laser tag, you go to the radio station. So in some ways, it's like you're in this little boot camp, and you don't really even think about anything too much. I guess it was a little bit of a blur.

Pete, when you introduced 'Bang The Doldrums' at When We Were Young, you encouraged the crowd to 'keep making weird shit'. That could almost be a mantra for the band as a whole. Your weirder moments are the ones that made you. Even a song like 'Dance Dance' has a rhythm section you never would have expected to hear on a rock track at that time.

PETE: You know, I just watched 'Joker 2' and I loved it. I do understand why people wouldn't because it subverts the whole thing. It subverts everything about the first one. That's something I've always really loved, when I watch artists who could keep making the same thing, and instead they make something that's challenging to them or challenging to their audience. Sometimes you miss, sometimes you do a big thing and you miss, and we've definitely done that. But I gotta say, all the things that I've really loved about art and music, and that has enriched my life, is when people take chances. You don't get the invention of anything new without that. To not make weird stuff would feel odd, and I personally would much rather lose and miss doing our own thing. To play it safe and cut yourself off around the edges and sand it down and then miss also, those are the worst misses, because you didn't even go big as yourself. This is where we connect with each other, we connect by our flaws and the little weird neuroses that we have. I rarely look at something and go 'Wow, that safe little idea really moved me'. I guess it happens, but I think about this with something like 'Joker 2' where this director was given the keys and you can just do anything. I think a lot of times somebody would just make an expected follow up but some people turn right when they're supposed to turn left. That's always been interesting on an artistic level, but at the same time, I think you're more likely to miss big when you do that.

PATRICK: Going into 'From Under The Cork Tree', I had this sense that this is my only shot. It has already outperformed what I expected. I don't want to be locked into doing the same thing forever, because I know me. I know I'm not Mr. Pop Punk, that's just one of many things I like. So I would be so bummed if for the rest of my life, I had to impersonate myself from when I was 17 and have to live in that forever. So I consciously wanted to put a lot of weird stuff on that record because I thought it was probably my only moment. 'Sugar, We're Goin Down' was a fairly straight ahead pop punk song but even that was weird for us, because it was slow. I remember being really scared about how slow it was, because it's almost mosh tempo for the whole song, which was not anything we had done up to that point. But in every direction, in every song, I was actively trying to push the boundaries as much as I could. 'Dance, Dance' was one of those ones where I was seeing what I can get away with, because I might never get this chance again. We were on tour with a friend's band, and I remember playing the record for them. I remember specifically playing 'Our Lawyer…' that opens the record, which has that 6/8 time feel, and they kind of look at me, like 'What?'. Then I played 'Dance, Dance', and they're like, 'Hey man, you know, whatever works for you. It's been nice knowing you'. But I just knew that, on the off chance that I ended up still being a musician in my 40s, I wanted to still love the music that we made. I didn't want to ever resent it. It's ironic because people say that bands sell out when they don't make the same thing over and over again. But wait a second. Say that again. Think about that.

That attitude seemed to carry directly into 'Infinity On High'. If you may never end up doing this again then let's make sure we bring in the orchestra while we still can... 

PATRICK: That was literally something that I did say to myself this might be the last time, the likelihood is we're going to fail because that's what happens, so this might be the last time that I ever get a chance to have somebody pay for an orchestra and a choir. I always think of The Who when they did 'A Quick One, While He's Away' and there's a part where they go 'cello, cello', because they couldn't afford real cellos, they couldn't afford players. That's what I thought would happen for me in life. So I went in and thought, let's do it all. Let's throw everything at the wall, because there's no chance that it's going to happen again. So many things came together on that record, but I didn't expect it. 'Arms Race' was a very weird song, and I was shocked when management went along with it and had kind of decided that would be the single. I was in disbelief. It did not feel like a single but it worked for us. It was a pretty big song and then 'Thnks Fr Th Mmrs' was easily the big hit off that record. So then we have two hit songs off of an album that I didn't even know would come out at that point. But again, it was very much just about taking the risks and seeing what the hell happened.

As you went on hiatus for a few years, you worked on a number of other creative projects. How did those end up influencing your approach to the band when you returned?

PETE: On the areas of the band where I led, I wanted to be a better leader. When you're younger and you're fighting for your ideas, I don't think that I was the greatest listener. I just wanted to be a better cog in the machine. When you're in a band originally, no one gives you the little band handbook and says 'these are the things you should do', you know? I just wanted to be a better version of who I was in the band. 

PATRICK: There's a combination of things. 'Soul Punk' is a weird record. I love that record but I kind of resent that record for so many things. It's my solo record, but it's also not very me in a lot of ways. I had started with a very odd little art rock record, and then I had some personal tragedies happen. My EP that I put out far out sold expectations so then all of a sudden, Island Records goes, 'Oh, we think this could actually be something we want singles for'. I think we had all expected that I would be putting out a smaller indie record but then all of a sudden they were like 'oh, you could be a pop star'. So then I have to retrofit this art rock record into pop star hit music, and also channel personal tragedy through it. I hadn't ever really been a front man - I'd been a singer, but I hadn't really been a front man, and I hadn't really written lyrics, certainly not introspective, personal lyrics. So that whole record is so strange and muted to me. So I went from that album, which also failed so fucking hard - I should have gone to school after that one. But Pete had reached out to me just as a friend, and said 'I know you're in your own thing right now, and I know that you're not the kind of person that is going to be in my fantasy football league, so I'm not going to see you unless we make music. But you're my buddy, and that kind of bums me out that I don't see you at all, so I guess we have to make music'. I thought that was a fairly convincing pitch. It's true, that was what we do when we hang out - we make music. So we reconvene, and going into it, I had all these lessons that really made me understand Pete better, because Pete is the natural front end person. So many of our arguments and frustrations and the things that we didn't see eye to eye on, I grew to understand having now been in the position of the point man that had to make all the decisions for my solo thing. It really flipped my understanding of why he said the things he would say, or why he did things he would do. I remember early on thinking he was so pushy, but then, in retrospect, you realise he was doing it for a reason. There's so many little things that really changed for me doing 'Soul Punk' that were not musical but were more about how you run a band and how you run a business, that made me understand and respect him a lot more.

What are memories of that initial return and, specifically, that tiny first show back at the Metro venue in Chicago?

PETE: Those first shows were definitely magical because I really wasn't sure that we would be on a stage again together. I don't have as many memories of some of our other first things. We were just talking about Warped Tour, I don't have many memories of those because it is almost wasted on you when it's a blur and there's so many things happening. But with this, I really wanted to not take it for granted and wanted to take in all the moments and have snapshots in our own heads of that show. I did a lot of other art during the time when we were off, everybody did, but there's a magic between the four of us and it was nice to know that it was real. When we got on that stage again at the Metro for the first time, there was something that's just a little different. I can't really put my finger on it, but it makes that art that we were making separately different than all the other stuff.

Musically, as you moved forward, everything sounded much bigger, almost ready for arenas and stadiums. Was that a conscious decision on your part?

PETE: Patrick felt like he was bursting with these ideas. It felt like these had been lying in wait, and they were big, and they were out there, and whether he'd saved them for those records, I don't really know. That's what it felt like to me. With 'Save Rock And Roll', we knew we had basically one shot. There were really three options; you'll have this other period in your career, no one will care or this will be the torch that burns the whole thing down. So we wanted to have it be at least on our terms. Then I think with 'American Beauty...' it was slightly different, because we made that record as fast as we could. We were in a pop sphere. Is there a way for a band to be competitive with DJs and rappers in terms of response time? Are we able to be on the scene and have it happen as quickly? I think it kind of made us insane a little bit. With 'American Beauty…', we really realised that we were not going to walk that same path in pop culture and that we would need to 'Trojan horse' our way into the conversation in some way. So we thought these songs could be played in stadiums, that these songs could be end titles. What are other avenues? Because radio didn't want this right now, so what are other avenues to make it to that conversation? Maybe this is just in my head but I thought 'Uma Thurman' could be a sister song to 'Dance, Dance' or maybe even 'Arms Race' where it is weird but it has pop elements to it.

PATRICK: I had a feeling on 'Save Rock And Roll' that it was kind of disjointed. It was a lot of good songs, but they were all over the place. So when we went into 'American Beauty…', I really wanted to make something cohesive. I do think that record is very coherent and very succinct - you either like it or you don't, and that's pretty much it all the way through. By the time we got to 'MANIA', I had done all this production and I'd started to get into scoring. The band had done so many things and taken so many weird chances that I just felt free to do whatever. At that point, no one's going to disown me if I try something really strange so let's see what happens. 'Young And Menace' was a big part of that experiment. People hate that song, and that's okay. It was meant to be challenging, it's obviously not supposed to be a pop song. It's an abrasive song, it should not have been a single. However, I do think that record should have been more like that. Towards the end of the production, there was this scramble of like, 'Oh, fuck, we have no pop music on this and we need to have singles' and things like that. That took over that record and became the last minute push. I think the last half of that record was recorded in the span of two weeks towards the end of the recording to try and pad it with more pop related songs. I look at that record and think it should have all been 'Young And Menace'. That should have been our 'Kid A' or something. It should have really challenged people.

But we have spoken before about how 'Folie à Deux' found its audience much later. It does feel like something similar is already beginning to happen with 'MANIA'...

PETE: I agree with you, and I think that's a great question, because I always thought like that. There's things that you're not there for, but you wish you were there. I always thought about it when we put out 'MANIA', because I don't know if it's for everyone, but this is your moment where you could change the course of history, you know, this could be your next 'Folie à Deux', which is bizarre because they're completely different records. But it also seems, and I think I have this with films and bands and stuff as well, that while one thing ascends, you see people grab onto the thing that other people wouldn't know, right? It's like me talking about 'Joker 2' - why not talk about the first one? That's the one that everybody likes. Maybe it's contrarian, I don't really know. I just purely like it. I'm sure that's what people say about 'Folie à Deux' and 'MANIA' as well. But there's something in the ascent where people begin to diverge, you are able to separate them and go 'Well, maybe this one's just for me and people like me. I like these other ones that other people talk about, but this one speaks to me'. I think over time, as they separate, the more people are able to say that. And then I can say this, because Patrick does music, I think that sometimes he's early on ideas, and time catches up with it a little bit as well. The ideas, and the guest on the record, they all make a little bit more sense as time goes on.

'MANIA' is almost the first of your albums designed for the streaming era. Everything is so different so people could almost pick and choose their own playlist.

PETE: Of course, you can curate it yourself. That's a great point. I think that the other point that you just made me think of is this was the first time where we realised, well, there's not really gatekeepers. The song will raise its hand, just like exactly what you're saying. So we should have probably just had 'The Last Of The Real Ones' be an early single, because that song was the one that people reacted to. But I think that there was still the old way of thinking in terms of picking the song that we think has the best chance, or whatever. But since then, we've just allowed the songs to dictate what path they take. I think that that's brilliant. If I'd had a chance to do that, curate my own record and pick the Metallica songs or whatever,that would be fantastic. So it was truly a learning experience in the way you release art to me.

PATRICK: After 'MANIA', I realised Fall Out Boy can't be the place for me to try everything. It's just not. We've been around for too long. We've been doing things for too long. It can't be my place to throw everything at the wall. There's too much that I've learned from scoring and from production now to put it all into it. So the scoring thing really became even more necessary. I needed it, emotionally. I needed a place to do everything, to have tubas and learn how to write jazz and how to write for the first trumpet. So then going into 'So Much (For) Stardust', it had the effect of making me more excited about rock music again, because I didn't feel the weight of all of this musical experimentation so I could just enjoy writing a rock song. It's funny, because I think it really grew into that towards the end of writing the record. I'd bet you, if we waited another month, it would probably be all more rock, because I had a rediscovered interest in it.

It's interesting you talk about the enjoyment of rock music again because that joy comes through on 'So Much (For) Stardust' in a major way, particularly on something like the title track. When the four of you all hit those closing harmonies together, especially live, that's a moment where everything feels fully cohesive and together and you can really enjoy yourselves. There's still experimental moments on the album but you guys are in a very confident and comfortable space right now and it definitely shows in the music. 

PATRICK: Yeah, I think that's a great point. When you talk about experimentation too and comfort, that's really the thing isn't it? This is always a thing that bugged me, because I never liked to jam when I was a kid. I really wanted to learn the part, memorise it and play it. Miles Davis was a side man for 20 years before he started doing his thing. You need to learn the shit out of your music theory and your instrument - you need to learn all the rules before you break them. I always had that mindset. But at this point, we as a band have worked with each other so much that now we can fuck around musically in ways that we didn't used to be able to and it's really exciting. There's just so much I notice now. There are ways that we all play that are really hard to describe. I think if you were to pull any one of the four of us out of it, I would really miss it. I would really miss that. It is this kind of alchemy of the way everyone works together. It's confidence, it's also comfort. It's like there's a home to it that I feel works so well. It's how I'm able to sing the way I sing, or it's how Andy's able to play the way he plays. There's something to it. We unlock stuff for each other.

Before we close, we must mention the other big live moment you had this year. You had played at Download Festival before but taking the headline slot, especially given the history of Donington, must have felt extra special. 

PETE: It felt insane. We always have a little bit of nerves about Download, wondering are we heavy enough? To the credit of the fans and the other bands playing, we have always felt so welcomed when we're there. There's very few times where you can look back on a time when... so, if I was a professional baseball player, and I'm throwing a ball against the wall in my parents garage as a kid, I could draw a direct link from the feeling of wanting to do that. I remember watching Metallica videos at Donington and thinking 'I want to be in Metallica at Donington'. That's not exactly how it turned out, but in some ways there is that direct link. On just a personal level, my family came over and got to see the festival. They were wearing the boots and we were in the mud. All this stuff that I would describe to them sounds insane when you tell your family in America - 'It's raining, but people love it'. For them to get to experience that was super special for me as well. We played the biggest production we've ever had and to get to do that there, the whole thing really made my summer.

PATRICK: There's not really words for it. It feels so improbable and so unlikely. Something hit me this last year, this last tour, where I would get out on stage and I'd be like, 'Wait, fucking seriously? People still want to see us and want to hear us?' It feels so strange and surreal. I go home and I'm just some schlubby Dad and I have to take out the compost and I have to remember to run the dishwasher. I live this not very exciting life, and then I get out there at Download and it's all these people. Because I'm naturally kind of shy, for years, I would look down when I played because I was so stressed about what was happening. Confidence and all these have given me a different posture so when I go out there, I can really see it, and it really hits you. Download, like you said, we've done before, but there's something very different about where I am now as a person. So I can really be there. And when you walk out on that stage, it is astounding. It forces you to play better and work harder, because these people waited for us. The show is the audience and your interaction with it. In the same way that the band has this alchemy to it, we can't play a show like that without that audience.

[kooktrash]

⋆.˚✮ kooktrash masterlist ✮˚.⋆

-`✮´-

latest work: infrunami | jeon jungkook [ nov 2024 ]

welcome to my new and improved masterlist!

join my taglist? fill out this form

-`✮´- navigation -`✮´-

──★ … coming soon

──★ … coming soon

──★ … coming soon

──★ … coming soon

──★ … coming soon

──★ the eros project

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ [ s | a ] dating show ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you didn’t expect to actually fall for someone in a reality dating show. Then Kim Taehyung came along and you had to battle between your feelings and what this show was actually about.

──★ rewriting love

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ [ s | a ] webtoon ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

when a mysterious blackout traps you inside the world of a webtoon you certainly believe it’s one big cruel joke.

──★ lover’s revenge

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 13.4k | s | a | rockstar ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you dated Taehyung before he made it big, so it was easy to assume he’d forgotten all about you. but for the past two years you’ve been his muse even after your split. a forbidden love that never faded.

──★ tunnel vision

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 13.4k | s | f | college/barista ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you’ve just gotten yourself a job working with the campus crush, kim taehyung. he’s quiet and brooding but everyone is obsessed with him including your best friend. what do you when she asks for your help in dating him when he’s catching feelings for you instead? he’s supposed to notice her but he’s got tunnel vision when it comes to you.

──★ electra heart

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 13k | s | f | fake dating ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

♡ just dumped by his cheating ex girlfriend, taehyung seeks help from the campus primadonna to make his ex jealous. y/n is spoiled, mean and filthy rich—everything his ex loathed. what happens when the two form a pretend relationship that leaves their hearts in great turmoil? welcome to the life of electra heart ♡

──★ love and rivalry

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 17.3k | s | f | e2l/college ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

kim taehyung is neither friend or foe, he’s more of an annoying fly always near creating chaos in your life. now he’s buzzing on about his new crush and begging for your help in exchange for his help with yours. like an idiot you agree though you signed up more than you can chew. just great.

──★ all you want

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 13.1k |s | a | arranged dating/high society ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

in the world of high society finding your future partner took a lot of preparation. kim taehyung is one of the most sought out bachelors and he’s been roped on a blind date with Y/n, a spoiled rich girl not used to being told no. what happens when the two clash?

──★ his special secret

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆12.5k | s | a | college professor ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you’re an art student who has recently broken up with your cheating ex boyfriend. he’s your art professor recovering from a divorce just a year ago. what happens when your relationship goes beyond that of a professor and his college student?

his special secret ||

──★ something about him

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 16.6k | s | a | yandere coworker ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

kim taehyung is nothing more than a man who works in the same office as you. he’s kind, charming, and unbelievably attractive but there’s just one downside to him. something feels off about the way he acts toward you and you’re not sure what but you know it has something to do with his little obsession with you. he acts strange at times, sometimes a little too lost in his own world, and changes his mood so fast you get whiplash trying to keep up.

you should feel scared or concerned but there’s just something about him that makes you ignore all the warning bells that go off in your head.

──★ the art of obsession

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 17.4K | s | a | dark academia ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.

──★ lace and luxury

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 13.6k | s | sugar daddy ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

Money, Money, Money, must be funny in the rich man’s world. At least that’s how you feel working day and night to make end’s meet and still never having enough. Out of nowhere you get roped into a give and take relationship with a very powerful fashion designer who shows you the way into a life of luxury and lingerie. You’ve become his muse and in exchange he’s become your source of pleasure and riches. It’s a rich man’s world and you’re living in it.

──★ between roommates

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ s | a | roommates ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you’ve got a crush on kim namjoon. Namjoon being jungkook’s friend, jungkook being your roommate. things get complicated somewhere down the line that leaves him regretting pushing you toward his own friend when he wants you just as bad. as roommates he knows you shouldn’t, but damn did he really want you.

──★ your power

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ s | a | ceo ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

the new boss at your company is hot, tatted, young, and you seem to be just his type

──★ bunny adventures

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ s | a | hybrid ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you had absolutely no intentions of ever owning a hybrid until jungkook came along. a mistreated, misunderstood rabbit hybrid who’d only ever wanted was to be treated like an equal.

──★ my dear friend

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ s | f | f2l ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

just friends? keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.

──★ depend on me

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 13.1k | s | a | hybrid ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you’re so used to letting Jungkook do everything for you. he babies you almost and you’re both constantly reminded of the strangeness in your friendship. you’ve always loved him but he can’t see you as anything but the little bunny girl he used to protect. you change his mind

──★ never again

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 14.8k | s | a | neighbors ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

jeon jungkook is just your nosy neighbor who can’t seem to be anything less than a selfish, heart breaking, prick in your eyes. yet somehow he manages to wiggle his way into your life but is it enough for him to change your mind or will he prove your judgements right?

──★ the act of falling

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 14.4k | s | a | fwb ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

what was supposed to be a meaningless fling has turned into much more before you both realized you were falling. now all you can do is hope that all the challenges you’ve faced are worth something.

──★ campus affairs

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 11.9k | f | s | f2l ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you transferred to a new college during second semester and you didn’t expect much excitement out for. that’s until jungkook came along and what had struggled to be a friendship was becoming so much more.

──★ fighting heart

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 15k | a | f | s ] boxer jk ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

never living a life of luxury, Jungkook does what he has to do to make ends-meet. right now that means fighting in underground clubs, getting beat black and blue until he wins. he knows there’s a better life out there for him but he never let himself think about it. until you came along and suddenly a weight is being lifted off his shoulders letting you through his guarded walls. you’re everything he needed and you make him want to fight for more.

──★ guys my age

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 9.5k | s | dilf jk ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.

──★ ditto

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 12.9k | s | a | established relationship ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you’ve got everything you need right now, amazing boyfriend, amazing job, amazing friends, but when you receive life changing news you’re not sure how to bring it up to your boyfriend. your indecisiveness and failure to be open with him puts a huge toll on your relationship and he just wants to know that if he continues to love and walk the same path as you, you’ll do the same and ditto.

──★ romantic dreams

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 23.9k | s | a | yandere jk ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

he’s always dreamt of finding his soulmate in some romantic way, bells ringing, birds chirping, maybe even a shine of light over their head. he never imagined to find them living next door to him with absolutely no clue to the extent of the growing infatuation he has toward you until it’s a little too late. hypnotized by your entire existence he finds his dreams and delusions of love to be a little too intense for anyone to bare.

──★ seven days to love

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 14.2k | s | f | coworker jk ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

jeon jungkook is nothing but your obnoxious new coworker who can’t seem to get the hint that you’re not interested. he’s loud, clumsy, and a bit of a player who knows his way with girls. what started off as an immediate physical attraction toward you quickly changed to a full blown crush that jungkook just can’t seem to let go. for seven days the two of you must work together alone at the store and each day jungkook takes as a chance to get you to notice him.

──★ cool with you

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 14.6k | s | f | neighbor jk ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

your break up from kim taehyung sent you spiraling into what felt like a midlife crisis of tear stained cheeks and tubs of half eaten ice cream with a broken heart. after finding out that your neighbor, jeon jungkook, was eavesdropping on your meltdowns and came to find out that your ex was his old friend, he found himself wanting to comfort you. he knew the kind of guy Taehyung was and he didn’t want to see you beat yourself up over a guy who wasn’t worth it so in the end he helped you through it and was unable to ignore the growing attraction you felt toward each other.

──★ limerence

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 17.8k | s | a | ex!jk ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back

──★ million dollar darling

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆19.7k | s | rich!jk ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.

──★ lost and found

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 18.7k | s | friend’s ex boyfriend ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

──★ tempest

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 31.2k | s | yandere boyfriend ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

──★ ukiyo

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 17.7k | s | f | summer romance ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

it’s the start of summer and there’s nothing better than dipping your toes in the sand and falling for a local boy who plays beach volleyball in his free time. he’s charming in a way you’ve never seen and you seem to understand each other better than one could imagine. both stuck in an awkward time of self discovery, you try to live in the moment and forget about your worries till they become too hard to ignore.

──★ effortlessly yours

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 16.9k | s | f | ceo x part timer ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

in an effort to catch a break from the people around him, jungkook stumbles into a bar on the other side of town and meets you—the one serving his drinks. things happen quite effortlessly between you and before you knew it, you’ve welcomed him to change your life for the better.

──★ infrunami

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ 18.7k | s | f | friends to lovers ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

you’ve made great friends throughout the years but none like jeon jungkook. he’s there for you when you need him and although at times when things get complicated between your feelings and thoughts… there’s one thing for certain. you both have been wasting time acting like there’s nothing between you.

SERIES

──★ summer bummer baby

HIATUS

──★ love lies

HIATUS

[fromgoy2joy]

What irks me so so much about the Pro Palestine movement and how it took place on my college campus was just how it... fizzled out.

In fall 2024, we've entered the new school year, and knock-on-wood, harassing Jews is not the go-to activism now.

Which I am elated about- we no longer have to hide the locations of events so stringently or keep our heads down in classes, fearing someone will catch us and know. And demand for us to answer for our supposed crimes.

But what stands out to me is that this activism only came from a place of anger they wanted to let out like a rabid animal. Teenagers and twenty-somethings wearing keffiyehs they bought from Amazon screamed about the evils of Zionism. They rattled their signs and beat their drums. They vandalized and attacked. There was nothing held back.

And you know what I never saw? I never saw a bake sale, or any sort of fundraising for Gazans. I never saw food drives for local refugees. There was nothing tangible. There was only a vehement rage for a cause they didn't seem to really care about.

Because they didn't care about the people suffering and dying- they just wanted an excuse to be angry at someone and that "someone" was Jews.

But they got their encampments with machine gun doodles and "glory to the resistance" on their posters. They got their yelling out and their pretty pictures they'll save for their children one day- "Look, Mommy was an activist!"

But you know what sustained me, just a bit? I tried to believe that my peers were in the end well intentioned. That they didn't mean to hurt us. That this was all an awful trick being played and that their goal at the end of the day was a more equal world and end to tangible suffering.

But now- their keffiyehs are abandoned and only taken out for a little progressive fashion statement, paired with pink go-go boots. They are so painfully apathetic, it hurts me.

And I think- I really think- the next time they'll pick up their picket signs again is when Jews get hurt, either in Israel or the diaspora. And they'll line up once more to cheer for it.

[thelovehypothesis]

Between the Pit Walls and the Heartbreak

(part 2.1) (part 2.2)

Franco Colapinto x fem-engineer!reader

+3k words

a/n’s: full credit to @afterglowsainz go read their fic “don't smile” its amazingggg and so this is my take on the fic because I loved the concept and have two versions of part 2 for this! hope you like it.

warnings: angst!

Summary: Two hearts, one racetrack, and a love that no team principal can control. When love collides with ambition, can they find a way back to each other?

You stood at the other edge of the Williams garage, watching as Franco climbed out of his FW46 for what felt like the hundredth time that week. Every step he took felt heavier than the last, every glance between the two of you loaded with words left unsaid. It was different now, and both of you knew it. 

When Franco signed with Williams to finish the 2024 season, your heart became a battlefield of excitement and dread. You were his race engineer, the one who knew him better than anyone else on the grid, the one who stayed up late going over data with him, strategizing, and pushing him to be the best. You had been with him since F3, a time when your paths crossed because of your families. They had been friends for years, and your parents had pulled some strings to give you a chance to prove yourself as a young race engineer, even funding the early stages of your career.

At first, people doubted you. They thought you were only there because of your family’s connections, but you quickly silenced those voices. You stayed up late, crunching data, analysing telemetry, and refining strategies for Franco’s races. You weren’t just there by luck; you were good—really good. Your talent quickly shone through, and soon enough, bigger teams were offering you positions. You could have taken those offers, stepped into a more high-profile role, but you never did. You stayed with Franco.

Because you loved him. You had fallen in love with him.

It had started subtly—a glance here, a shared laugh there. You weren’t just his engineer; you became his confidante, his friend, and eventually, you found yourself falling for him. He looked at you after each race win like you were part of his victory, not just a cog in the machine. Your bond deepened as you moved with him from F3 to F2, and every time a team came knocking with an offer, you turned them down. They could offer you prestige, money, and opportunities, but they couldn’t offer you Franco.

He was the reason you stayed. Every lap he completed felt like your own heartbeat; every podium, every victory was something you shared with him. It was more than just work—it was love. 

But everything changed when he signed with Williams.

-The Call 

The moment Williams confirmed Franco as their new driver for the remainder of the 2024 season, everything changed. You had been publicly by his side for over two years, a relationship that everyone in the paddock knew about. Your love story wasn’t a secret—far from it. Fans followed your every move, your Instagram was full of pictures of you two at races, on vacations, and even behind the scenes in the paddock. You had been his race engineer since F3, and people saw your partnership as an unbreakable duo both on and off the track.

When you were reassigned to Alex Albon’s car, it wasn’t just a professional shift; it felt personal. The move should have been a tremendous opportunity in its own right—working with a driver as talented and respected as Alex was no small feat—but it was hard to see it as a win when it meant being separated from Franco. The paddock was buzzing with speculation about how the change would affect your relationship.

But the hardest blow came in a private meeting with James Vowles, the team principal. He sat the two of you down, his tone serious, and made it clear in no uncertain terms: there could be no personal distractions. He acknowledged the public nature of your relationship, but made it clear that professionalism first, always. There was no room for messy relationships that could compromise team integrity, that moving forward, there needed to be boundaries. Williams was entering a critical phase, and the last thing they wanted was for emotions to compromise performance.

James’s words echoed in your mind long after the meeting ended. “It’s nothing personal, it’s about keeping the team focused. We’ve all seen how relationships can become distractions in this sport. We need to keep things professional, especially now that Franco is in F1.”

You had expected some tension when the move was announced, but not like this. You weren’t just any race engineer—you had stood beside Franco for years, helped him rise through the ranks. Your love had grown through the late-night data reviews, the shared victories, the quiet moments after race weekends when it was just the two of you. To be told that this love, something that had been a part of your lives for over two years, was now considered a “distraction” was gut-wrenching.

Franco was the one who made the call, though. “It’s for the best,” he’d said, voice breaking just a little. You could see how much it hurt him to say it, how his voice faltered for just a second, but you also knew he was trying to protect both of your careers. He couldn’t afford to let emotions get in the way now, not when he was on the brink of making a name for himself in Formula 1. And you didn’t want to be the one to hold him back, either. So you agreed, even though it felt like your heart was being torn in two. You could see the conflict in his eyes, but the weight of the moment crushed any objections you might’ve had. You didn’t want to be the reason he failed to thrive in F1. And so, with a single nod, you agreed to end it.

It was a quiet breakup—no big fights, no yelling, just an excruciating silence that followed you like a cloud for weeks. You’d kept things under wraps so well that even the fans didn’t catch on immediately. But they were observant; they always were. It wasn’t long before they noticed the subtle changes. Your Instagram went private, the photos of you two celebrating F2 podiums together disappeared, and though you still posted about the races, the personal connection that had once been there was gone.

Speculation began to swirl in the background, but you never confirmed or denied anything. You let the fans talk, let the rumours grow, because addressing them would only bring more pain. And in the paddock, Franco became just another driver. Professional, distant, and cold in a way you hadn’t expected. You couldn’t stand it.

You threw yourself into your work with Alex, who was a consummate professional, always supportive, but even he noticed the toll it was taking on you. “You don’t have to pretend, you know,” Alex had said one evening after a particularly long debrief session. “It’s okay to feel hurt.”

But admitting that hurt felt like a betrayal of everything you’d tried to hold together. So you buried it deeper.

As the season progressed, the distance between you and Franco only grew. He was focused on his races, and you were determined to be the best engineer you could be for Alex. But no matter how hard you tried to push Franco out of your mind, he was always there. You saw him every day, heard his voice over the radio, watched him in the garage. It was torture, and you couldn’t escape it.

There were moments when he would catch your eye from across the paddock, and for a split second, it felt like old times. But then reality would crash down, and you would remind yourself that things were different now. You weren’t his engineer anymore. You weren’t his anymore.

And yet, despite everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to move on. You still loved him. The offers from other teams continued to pour in—teams that saw your potential, that recognized your talent. Mclaren, Aston Martin, even Mercedes reached out, but you turned them all down. How could you leave when Franco was still here? You had built your career with him by your side, and even though your relationship was over, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

But you knew it couldn’t last. Eventually, you would have to make a choice.

—The Wall Comes Down

It wasn’t until Suzuka, late in the season, that Franco finally broke the silence between you two. The garage was quiet, most of the crew gone, but Franco lingered by his car, his eyes darting toward you as if summoning the courage to speak.

“Can we talk?” His voice was low, tentative, and you wanted to say no, 1you didn’t want to have this conversation. You had spent the last few months trying to bury your feelings, to focus on your work and pretend that everything was fine. But the look in Franco’s eyes told you that he wasn’t going to let you walk away this time.

“We shouldn’t,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Please” he pleaded and you found yourself nodding while he guided you to his driver's room.

He didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I hate this. I hate that we don’t talk anymore.”

You crossed your arms, trying to guard yourself against the emotions surging within. “We don’t talk because you made that choice, Franco.”

His jaw clenched, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “It wasn’t my choice—it was the team’s.”

You shook your head, feeling the sting of unshed tears. “But you agreed to it. You agreed to break up with me like it was just another strategy call. Like we were something you could let go of as easily as a bad qualifying lap.”

“I did it for us,” he said, voice rising. “For our future. You know how cutthroat this world is—how many careers get destroyed because of personal issues. I didn’t want that for you, or for me.”

You stepped closer, lowering your voice. “Don’t lie to yourself. You did it for you. You were scared, Franco. Scared that if things went wrong between us, it would ruin your big shot in F1.”

He looked away, the weight of your words hanging between you like a wall neither of you could cross. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice softer now, broken. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I was scared. But that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“And how’s that, exactly?” you asked, unable to stop the bitterness from creeping into your tone.

“Look I know I messed up,” Franco said, his hands shaking as he spoke. “I thought breaking up was the right thing to do. I thought it would keep us both focused, but… I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend anymore.” He paused for a moment. “I still love you,” he said, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had been waiting for them, hoping to hear them for months, but now they only made you angry.

“You can’t just say that and expect everything to go back to normal,” you said, shaking your head. “It doesn’t work that way.” You looked away, the pain of his words hitting you harder than you expected. “You made your choice, Franco. You chose your career over me. You can’t just come back now and expect everything to go back to the way it was.”

“I didn’t choose my career over you,” he said, stepping closer. “I thought I was protecting us both. I thought I was doing what was best for you. I know I hurt you. I know I made the wrong call, but I’m trying to fix it now. We can still be friends.”

“No,” you said firmly, taking a step back. “I didn’t need protecting,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes. “I needed you to trust me. To trust us. But you didn’t. And I..I…I can’t just be your friend, Franco. Not when I’m still in love with you.”

The silence between you stretched out, the weight of your confession settling in. Franco’s face fell, and for the first time, you saw genuine regret in his eyes.

“I didn’t realise…”

“You didn’t want to realise,” you corrected. “You thought it would be easier to just put distance between us, to make things ‘professional,’ but that’s not how feelings work. You can’t compartmentalise everything.”

He reached for your hand, but you pulled away. “I need space, Franco. I can’t do this anymore.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, Franco nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He looked at you, his eyes full of regret, and for the first time, you saw how much this had been hurting him too. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

He turned around and you watched as he walked away, your heart breaking all over again, but you knew it was for the best. Some things just couldn’t be fixed with a pit stop.

-The Offer By the time the season neared its end, you received the call you’d been avoiding for months. Red bull was offering you a position. They wanted you to join their engineering team, and the offer was too good to ignore. Prestige, a hefty pay raise, and the chance to work with another driver—a new start.

You took the job. You had to. Staying with Williams, staying near Franco, was suffocating you. And the moment Franco found out you were leaving for Red Bull? It broke him in a way you hadn’t expected.

-The End of the Season

The season wrapped up in Abu Dhabi, and the celebration felt hollow without Franco by your side. You watched from a distance as he soaked in the cheers from the crowd, the flashes of cameras capturing the culmination of a year of hard work. He had grown into a formidable driver in F1, and you couldn’t help but feel pride for him, even if you had been reduced to just another observer.

You had kept your distance for months, determined to stay professional despite how much it hurt. But as the night went on and the paddock grew quiet, you found yourself lingering. The afterparty was in full swing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to join in. Instead, you found a secluded spot near the pit garages, letting the sound of the distant laughter and music wash over you as you replayed the season in your mind—every moment you had spent avoiding Franco, pretending like your heart wasn’t breaking every time you saw him.

“Hey.” His voice startled you, pulling you from your thoughts.

You turned around, and there he was—Franco, standing there, his eyes filled with something you hadn’t seen in a long time. Regret. Pain. Love.

“I’ve been looking for you all night,” he said softly, stepping closer. He was still in his race suit, unzipped to his waist, a reminder of everything that had changed, and yet, everything that still felt the same.

“You found me,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You hadn’t seen him this close in what felt like forever. His presence stirred up emotions you had tried so hard to bury, but here they were, bubbling up to the surface.

“I didn’t think you’d stay.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking uncertain, a far cry from the confident driver everyone saw on the grid. “I thought you’d already be gone.”

You shook your head, unable to find the words. There was so much you wanted to say, but where would you even begin?

Franco took another step toward you, his eyes searching yours. “I miss you,” he said, his voice breaking just a little. “I know I messed up. I thought I was doing the right thing, for both of us, for our careers. But I was wrong. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay without you. It’s not. I’m not.”

Your heart clenched at his words, but you had been carrying the weight of this heartbreak for so long that it felt almost impossible to let it go. “Franco, we—” You paused, trying to gather yourself. “We made a choice. You made a choice.”

“I know,” he said quickly, his voice desperate. “I know I made the choice, but it was the wrong one. I thought we could just focus on our careers and put everything else aside, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t pretend like you’re not the most important thing in my life.”

You swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “I thought I could handle it too,” you admitted. “I tried to be professional. I tried to focus on my work with Alex and push everything else away, but it’s been… it’s been hell.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he stepped even closer, so close you could feel the warmth of his body next to yours. “I thought I was doing what was best for us, for you. I thought if we stayed apart, we could avoid all the complications, but I didn’t realise that losing you was the biggest mistake I could make.”

Tears blurred your vision, and before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance between you and wrapped your arms around him. He pulled you into his chest, holding you tight as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, steady and strong, and for the first time in months, you felt like you could finally breathe.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered into his chest, your tears soaking into his race suit.

He held you tighter, his hand gently stroking the back of your head. “I missed you too,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “Every day, I missed you.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, and in that moment, all the walls you had built up around yourself came crumbling down. The hurt, the anger, the distance—it all melted away, leaving just the two of you standing there, raw and vulnerable.

And then he kissed you.

It was soft at first, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if it was okay. But then, as you kissed him back, it deepened, all the months of pain and longing pouring into that one kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of everything you had been through together, everything you had survived. It was a kiss that reminded you why you had fallen in love with him in the first place.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were crying. His forehead rested against yours, his hands still holding you as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

“I love you,” he whispered, his breath shaky. “I never stopped loving you.”

You let out a soft sob, nodding as you wiped the tears from your cheeks. “I love you too, Franco. I never stopped. But we can’t just pick up where we left off. It’s been months. We’ve both changed, and... I’m still so hurt.”

Franco's face crumpled with regret, his eyes filled with desperation. “I know I messed up. I don’t want to rush anything. I just want to be with you again, even if it takes time. We can take it slow. I’m willing to do whatever it takes, just—please. I can’t lose you again.”

You shook your head, your heart breaking all over again, but this time, for a different reason. “Franco, I don’t think you understand. It’s not just about time or taking it slow. I’ve been trying to heal, trying to move on from everything. You hurt me, and I can’t go back to that place.”

He swallowed, his voice shaky. “But we can try—can’t we? We can figure it out together. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

You looked down, your hands trembling as you tried to steady yourself. “It’s not that simple. I’ve accepted an offer, Franco.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “An offer?”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the next words. “Red Bull offered me a position, and I took it. I’m going to be Max Verstappen’s new race engineer.”

The shock on Franco’s face was immediate, his body stiffening as he processed what you said. “Red Bull? Max’s engineer?” His voice was barely above a whisper, disbelief clouding his expression.

You nodded, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over again. “This is my chance, Franco. My career—this is everything I’ve worked for, and I can’t let it slip away because of what we used to be.”

His lips parted, but no words came out. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable, but so was the understanding. He took a step back, realising that he had already lost you, not because you didn’t love him, but because too much had changed.

“I… I didn’t know,” he finally whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight as you spoke. “I didn’t plan for it to happen like this. But this is what I need to do, for me. I need to move forward.”

Franco stood there, silent, his eyes fixed on the ground as he tried to absorb the reality of your words. “So… this is it?”

You wiped away the last of your tears, your heart heavy but resolute. “I think it has to be. I’ll always care about you, but I can’t keep holding on to something that’s hurting me. You have your future, and I have mine.”

He looked up, his gaze searching yours one last time, as if hoping for a miracle. But when he saw the finality in your eyes, he nodded, defeated. “I understand.”

It was the hardest thing you’d ever done—walking away from Franco when you still loved him. But this wasn’t just about love anymore. It was about you, your dreams, and your future. And for the first time in a long time, you were choosing yourself.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, the sounds of the paddock fading into the background as you stepped into the unknown, leaving behind the man who had once meant everything.

But you didn’t look back. Not this time.

--- THE END ---

hope you liked it, part two is on its way.

Lots of love, Em!

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 25/10/2024 Charles Leclerc - Double Penetration

Plot: Charles loved back shots but when he finds your dildo he can’t help but want to see how you cope.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, fingering, p in v, dildo use, anal etc 18+ Minors DNI

You and Charles were insatiable. Your relationship had been built up around your guys sex life. You guys hooked up one night in a club after he won and race in Italy and you were out clubbing with all your uni friends the same night the race concluded.

You both agreed that the night was like no other and kept coming back to each out. Just causal sex, nothing more nothing less.

But the more you saw one another and had that intimacy the more you guys became like a couple.

You went from leaving pretty much straight after you both reach your high, to cuddling with him and falling alseep together.

You went from keeping it private and low-key at his home, to walking around the streets on dates even though for the longest time you both refused to acknowledge them as dates.

And you both were too stubborn to admit that 5 months in and you were definitely not casual anymore.

As your relationship progressed and you guys fell more in love with each other the sex just got better. There was something quite tame and almost vanilla about hooking up with Charles however, with the stability and confidence of a relationship with you backing him he started to get more experimental with things he did.

The latest was anal, something you’d never done before and arguably something Charles had never done before either. But he loved back shots, even before he’d tried your back doors he loved having you in your hands and knees in doggy style and just being able to push and pull you into the desired position. So once he’d pushed his dick in your ass there was a whole new obsession that had started.

However today, you were in a university class having spent the whole day in Italy where you attended at Sanremo University which was only an hour drive from Monaco.

While you were in your classes learning about anatomy Charles was having a spring clean of your shared apartment. It was normally you that did the big cleans as you just seemed to have more time than him naturally.

He was sat on the floor, an old pair of custom sunglasses with his name and the Ferrari logo on, his Alfa Romeo hat on his head and a feather boa of yours from the night he met you at the club, his old Harry Potter cloak as he was looking through stuff under the bed and in the bedside cabinet.

He hadn’t meant to get distracted with all the random junk but he had which led him on to find your box. It was a box he didn’t even know you had but he could tell it was yours from your name and the do not open on top of it.

“Do not open?” He muttered to himself with a smirk.

And with all due respect he only thought he’d find really bad old school pictures of you, not the brightest largest sparkly red dildo he had ever put his eyes on.

He waited for you to come home, excitement bubbling in his chest the whole time. He couldn’t even stay in the bedroom, he was pacing round the house on the balls of his feet.

The minute he heard your keys in the door he was running over to it quicker than him in the car.

“Hey princess” he grins and immediately you look up at him in shock. Usually he’d be on the sofa or in the kitchen pottering about as you came home but he was right on the door this time!

“Erm hi baby?” You chuckle putting your keys on the side and leaving your bag of school bits by the door.

“Come with me” he says grabbing your hand and you follow him, he takes you into the bedroom where you see the absolute state of it and everything from under the bed now on the floor unboxed.

“What on .. Charles I thought you said you were cleaning, not messing the house up more” you groan looking at the clothes all on the floor in the corner and the random keyboard Charles had got for Christmas and the old tea towels from your mum that had never been put to use.

“Mmmm well mon ange I started to clean and then I got distracted by this” he says holding up your dildo that you haven’t used in god knows how long. It’s been tucked away in your ‘first year uni’ box when you were living in student accommodation.

“I- I haven’t seen that in so long” you say taking it in your own hand in shock.

“Mmmm and we’re using it right now, get on the bed mon petite dame” he says, and when you don’t make any moves he lifts you up himself spinning you round and pushing you to the bed.

“Need to get you all wet if you gonna take both” he groans as he pulls your jeans off and then your panties with it. He didn’t take note that they were his favourite lace ones, he just chucked them in one of the various piles of things that have built up in the room.

“Both?” You question unsure of what he means. He traces a fingers along your folds before lightly rubbing your clit.

“Mmmm that” he points to the dildo in your hand “will go in this hole” he says pushing a finger in.

“And then I’ll stuff myself into my favourite hole” he grins lightly pinching the flesh or your ass.

“Oh fuck” you moan at his words and how he’s putting pressure on you clit while two of his fingers move in and out. The minute he can hear the squelching he’s knows there’s enough natural lubrication for him.

“On your knees for me baby, ass up” he says and this time you don’t need him to do it for you as your taking the command in your stride and obeying immediately.

You hold yourself up on your elbows while Charles positions himself behind you. He slips into your vagina with ease, making sure to thrust in and out at an agonisingly slow pace. He always found it better and easier for him to lube himself up with your juices first from the front before he delved into the back.

He held you by your hips, rubbing up and down whispering sweet words about how good your going to feel for him. When he feels like your getting too close and he’s teases you enough. He grabs the flexible dildo, one hand coming round.

He pulls himself out before switching round and pushing the dildo into you. A moan and the cold sensation compared to him warm dick has your moaning into the pillow that’s infront of you.

“C-Charlie fuck” you moan, your hips stuttering forward as he makes the dildo touch the furthest point in your walls and bottoming out.

“You gonna be a good girl and hold it there for me while I get all snug in this tight hole?” He asks, with a small smack to your left cheek making you lurch forward and quickly grab the end of the dildo keeping it in place despite your hole clenching around it.

He spreads your cheeks apart, before slipping in. You’d done this so many times now that it didn’t effect you as much as the first few times did, but it still felt a little uncomfortable and painful for the first few seconds that he pushed himself in.

A little whimpers comes from your mouth, the feeling of being so full as Charles pushes himself all the way in.

“You’re so beautiful. Holy shit. You are everything” he moans into you. One of his hands comes down on the bed grabbing your hand and holding himself up while the other reaches round your body to take over holding the dildo.

And god, you were ever so thankful your boyfriend had the intense brain of an F1 driver in these moments. Being able to push and pull the dildo in and out of one place while thrusting in and out of another.

Your eyes blaze wide at the feeling and your mouth drops open. You feel like you could throw up the feeling is so good, so good that you start rocking back to meet his thrusts.

It’s also over whelming, one hand is gripping the sheets while the other is squeezing your interlocked fingers with Charles.

“Fuck fuck fuck I - what I” you can hardly speak as Charles builds up his momentum making sure your never without some kind of stimulation.

“I-I’m gonna I f-fu-fuck oh my god oh my fuckinh god charlieeeeeee” you cry out with pants as your clench around him and the dildo, a blinding white covering your eyes as your orgasm washes over you. Your soaking the bed with how your squirting and an impressive amount that has Charles shortly following you in suit his hips stuttering as he cums inside you.

“Oh fuck, baby I” he tries to breath but your just as bad, panting shaking and your arms swiftly give out as you faceplant the bed with a soft whimper and groan.

Charles slips out and pulls the dildo out making you gasp at how empty you now feel.

“I” you start but Charles shushes you with a kiss.

“I love you. You did do well for me”

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[azrielslittleslut]

Azriel x F!Reader

Thigh Fucking with Azriel

Warnings: smut, NSFW, 18+, thigh fucking, cum shot, slight breeding kink

Word Count: 847

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

a/n: the plan for this one changed. idk. i guess i was daydreaming about azriel fucking my thighs.

You squealed as Azriel threw you over his broad shoulders, the world turning topsy-turvy as the two of you entered your home on the other side of the Sidra.

"Az!" you said through relentless giggles. "Put me down! I can walk!"

Azriel lightly smacked you on the ass, practically running to the bedroom. "I know. But my legs are longer, so I can get you here faster," he said, promptly throwing you down onto the massive bed.

You gasped as your short dress rode up your thighs, revealing your bare pussy to your mate. You smiled at the look of pure hunger in his eyes as he noticed that little fact.

"No panties?" he asked lowly, his voice barely more than a growl. He ran scarred hands up and down your thighs, massaging your flesh with his long fingers. "You've been driving me crazy all night. You know that, right?"

You bit your lip as you nodded, knowing that you had been teasing your mate all evening. First, it was the short, lacy dress that you wore to dinner, the material stopping just below the curve of your ass. Next, it was the running your hands up and down his thighs, stopping just below his cock. It was the fluttering of your eyelashes, giving him that innocent look that you knew would drive him wild.

By the look of things, you had teased him extremely well.

Azriel palmed his hard cock through his leathers, his eyes on your pussy. "You think it's funny, hm? Making your mate so horny and then not letting me bring you home to fuck you until dinner was over." He undid the laces of his pants, his long fingers making quick work of the job. "Well, then. Since you're so unbothered, you won't mind if I use you to make myself feel good first?"

Desire washed through you, your core clenching on nothing as you saw and heard the dominance radiating off of him. "Use me, Az. I'm yours."

Azriel groaned, his hand wrapping around his large cock as soon as it was free. You licked your lips at the sight of it, expecting him to fuck you with it, using you as nothing more than his personal sex toy.

So, you were surprised when he took your thighs in his broad hands, closing them tightly together as he forced his cock through the middle of them. His precum coated your inner thighs as he moved, covering you in his scent. He began to fuck your thighs, his hips moving at a rough but steady pace.

"Azriel," you whined, not expecting this... new experience. It was no secret that your mate was kinky as hell, but he had never fucked your thighs before. "Do my thighs feel good to you, love?"

Azriel hummed, his lips parting just enough to let him spit onto his cock, a string of his saliva falling onto your thighs. "Fuck yes, baby," he whined. "Love your thighs. So soft. So pretty. Mine."

You smiled, running your hands along any part of his body you could reach. You laced your fingers with his as he fucked your thighs, holding him close to you. You loved when he got like this, when his pleasure was so great that he turned into nothing more than a babbling mess.

He could be dominant and commanding, but at the end of it all, he was your good boy. Your good little mate.

Your teasing must have really driven Azriel wild, because it didn't take long for his thrusts to grow sloppy, and you could feel his cock throbbing against your thighs.

"Gonna cum, baby," he breathed, his eyes closed, his head thrown back. Gods, he was so beautiful like this, with sweat running down his face, his breath coming out in ragged pants as his mind was overtaken with pleasure.

"Cum for me, Az," you said, encouraging him to not hold back.

With a groan, Azriel came, spurt after spurt of his cock painting your pretty little dress with white. He stopped thrusting once he rode out his orgasm, his pupils blown out with lust. He glanced down at the mess he made on you, a male smile gracing his features.

"Fuck, I love the sight of that," he said, running a finger through his cum, his hand moving to gently grip your waist. "So beautiful. So perfect, all covered in my cum."

You smiled at him as he pressed a gentle kiss to your knee, but that smile turned almost vicious as you looked at him. He had his pleasure, but your pussy was still aching.

"I do love being covered in you, my love," you said, sitting up to grip his shoulder. "But I love being filled with you even more."

The words hit home, and you could feel Azriel's cock harden again from where it was nestled between your thighs.

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, stopping only to bite at your lower lip. "On your stomach, baby," he commanded. "I'm just getting started."

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @book-obsessed124

@scorpioriesling @olive-main @scarsandallaz

Kinktober tag list: @littlest-w01f @fourthwing4ever

@huff-le-puff-puff-pass @halo-hanging @velarisnightsky444 @whyshouldihaveanam3

[thatsthat24]

Sanderstober 2024

SANDERSTOBER IS HERE! Once again, my friends and I are creating art prompts for you all to try your hand at for every day of this month, if you'd like! Try one, try some, try all! If you miss a day but still want to do a prompt from a day you missed, please go ahead! This is all just for fun. If you'd like to share your creations, you can use #Sanderstober2024. I'd love to see! Hope you enjoy them! 🍁

October 1: Always gotta start out this day with the traditional prompt! take a character from media or OC and draw how they look on September 30th vs. how they look on October 1st!

October 2: Create a sheet ghost, but featuring the pattern of a sheet/blanket you own or maybe used to own when you were younger. - This idea came from my friend, Andrea!

October 3: A quick Google search of “keyblade designs” (the weapon from Kingdom Hearts) would show you how the weapon changes based off the property the character goes to! Design a keyblade based around any piece of media, as if the main character from Kingdom Hearts traveled there… - This idea came from my friend, Rene!

October 4: There’s a lot of fast food and cereal mascots out there… I think you know where I’m going with this. Take any of those mascots and turn them into a MONSTER or KILLER.

October 5: This one’s a play off a prompt from last year AND it’s a writing prompt! Take any famous character from a horror film, and create a nursery rhyme about them. You can make it completely innocent, or, like many nursery rhymes, remain dark but disguised in pretty language.

October 6: Take your favorite animal… and dress it as your dream profession. - This idea came from my friend, Talyn!

October 7: Take one of your favorite movies and reimagine if it had been marketed as a different genre (e.g. Hellraiser as a family comedy, Goodfellas as a romance, etc.) - This idea came from my friend, Joan!

October 8: Turning things into Pokemon tends to be a favorite prompt of mine, and this year, the category is… fast food! Take any fast food of your choice, create a Pokemon, and name it!

October 9: Take any foreign animation cartoon and draw them in the style of a western animation! - This idea from my friend, Dominic!

October 10: Definitely a sucker for fall fashion and aesthetic, so take any character or group of characters from one of your favorite pieces of content and give them a fall aesthetic makeover.

October 11: Crows collect shiny things… what things might the nest of a crow contain from one of your favorite fictional universes? - This idea came from my friend, Lev!

October 12: Take any color and ONLY use that color in order to depict a Halloween, horror movie, or fall scene.

October 13: A very expressionistic vibe for this prompt: draw the aura which you hope to be walking in during fall or Halloween. - This idea came from my friend, Valerie!

October 14: There’s LOTS of new words and sayings out there (skibidi, rizz, Ohio, ick, etc.). Google some, you’ll learn a couple new ones. I want you to create a Halloween monster/creature/cryptid based off one of these new words, as if they were the names of the creatures themself (Oh my gosh… it’s the legendary Los Angeles Ick…)

October 15: Sure, people are scared of Halloween monsters… but are there things that would be scary to those monsters? Get creative and depict some things/scenarios that would be terrifying to a typical Halloween creature! - This idea came from my friend, Jackie!

October 16: Those new horror-fied versions of fast food/cereal monsters from October 4 need weapons… take a meal or the cereal from the brand you got your mascot from, and create a weapon inspired by it!

October 17: There has been lots of theorizing in the fields of science on how the human body may evolve in order to either perform modern tasks better or survive… SO, imagine up a human evolution that has adapted to survive some environment (fire, spider bites, rejection), or one that has adapted to perform a certain task (tennis, gaming, folding clothes). - This idea comes from my friend, Joan!

October 18: So, Toy Story 5 has been announced… draw the next toy that’s gonna be introduced as a character in it.

October 19: Returning to an annual favorite of mine… take any character(s) from a piece of media and depict them in the style of a Tim Burton character.

October 20: As a play off of Dominic’s suggestion from an earlier day, take any western animation’s characters and depict them in the style of a foreign animation!

October 21: Taking inspiration from the movie, Hocus Pocus, take any character from a piece of media and depict them riding what *they* would probably bewitch into a broomstick if they had to in a pinch!

October 22: They’re giving your favorite background character a spin-off series. What does the poster for it look like? - This idea is from my friend, Dominic!

October 23: Ok… that monster/killer mascot you made on October 4th? The movie has to have a setting. Maybe an appropriate building? Maybe an entire town… Depict that setting…

October24: Take a character from your favorite movie/tv show and depict them as if they were a character in a fighting game like Smash Bros. or Street Fighter! What does their special/ultimate move look like? - This idea came from my friend, David!

October 25: Take any fun/special memory from your life and create a children’s book cover inspired by it. - This idea came from my friend, Stephanie!

October 26: Take your favorite classic Halloween monster and use them as inspiration for a new species of insect… - This idea came from my friend, Dahlia!

October 27: This feels like a classic for any time of year: take any favorite piece of media and cast the Sanders Sides in it.

October 28: [Any of your favorite pieces of media] … and Zombies

October 29: Think of a very important key object from one of your favorite movies or tv shows that the protagonist(s) finds. Now imagine they never stumbled upon it. What would it look like 100 years later? What else may have happened to it if the protagonist never found it? - This idea came from my friend, Chantz!

October 30: Now… we combine the ideas together to make the ultimate new Halloween villain! Take your creations from October 4th, 8th, 16th, and 23rd, and place them all together to create a scene of them terrorizing the main protagonists!

October 31: And, as a classic end-of-the-month tradition, today’s prompt is about celebrating the reason for the season, Halloween! Imagine if Halloween was like New Year’s Eve for Halloween creatures/characters. What would they look like, dressed all fancy for the occasion and celebrating?

Got the list fully completed! Looking forward to whatever you all create! 

[heartshapedmisery]

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 | cooper adams

summary ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ in which cooper adams is your next-door neighbor you've always had doubts about, but once you stumble into his trap, you're caught in the dilemma of becoming his next victim. but who's to say you didn't mind being his prey? . . .

warnings ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ | THIS FIC IS DARKER THAN MY NORMAL CONTENT, DNI IF YOU AREN'T COMFORTABLE!) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), rough sex, bit of a blood kink?, knife kink, choking/suffocation, dacryphilia, m!receiving oral, daddy kink, breeding kink, hair pulling, degradation kink/name calling (whore), heavy age gap (reader is in early 20s and cooper is in mid 40s), let me know if i missed anything!

word count ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ 3.3k +

pairing ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ neighbor!cooper adams x fem!reader

author’s note ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  haven't seen trap yet but i'm still a slut for josh hartnett so do with that what you will :p i hope you enjoy! i had so much fun writing this, let me know what you think! :)

publishing date ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  august 21st, 2024 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY

When you first moved into your new house in Philadelphia, Cooper and Rachel Adams had been the first to welcome you into the neighborhood. They lived right next door, eager to get to know the new girl who had just moved into their subdivision.

You were fresh out of college and already swimming in debt (they honestly didn't know how you could even afford your house), so they had been kind enough to invite you over for dinner—which you happily accepted so you didn't have to spend any money on carry out. Plus, you figured getting to know new people would be nice so you didn't feel so alone in such a new place.

They had a nice home from what you could tell; it was warm and inviting as you walked through the living room, taking in the well lived-in space. You quickly learned they had a daughter, due to the family pictures scattered around the mantle above the fireplace, who had just gone off to summer camp the morning before. They spoke a lot about her at dinner. Well, Rachel did, her husband just nodded along to what she was saying as he quietly ate.

He didn't speak much; His eyes did most of his talking for him. God, his eyes. There was something about them that struck you so deeply, that you couldn't help but quickly look away every time you made eye contact with him. And he knew it too. He initially thought you were just shy, but after he caught your gaze lingering on his veiny hands and muscular forearms, he soon wondered if it was something else that made you react so heavily.

You couldn't deny that he was attractive. From his broad shoulders to his charming smile, he lit something ablaze deep in your gut that got harder and harder to ignore as the night went on.

After dinner, you migrated your way to the living room for a few drinks, continuing to listen to the story Rachel told about how her and Cooper met.

"Honey, could you get another bottle of wine from the cellar? This one's just about out," Mrs. Adams turned to her husband as she topped off her glass, rubbing his shoulder softly before he stood.

He quietly excused himself to the basement, leaving the two of you to retrieve another bottle. He returned moments later with an unopened bottle from 2007, which Mrs. Adams seemed elated about.

"Here, sweetheart. Let me get a corkscrew," he told her, setting the bottle on the coffee table and making his way towards the kitchen. Your eyes followed him for a moment, before falling to his feet to see the small red splotches his left shoe was leaving behind on the hardwood with each step.

Your eyes widened slightly, your mind jumping to conclusions to what that could possibly be. You carefully look at the basement door that he had left cracked open, a weird feeling suddenly washing over your senses.

"What is that on the bottom of your shoe?" Mrs. Adams asked the question you had been too afraid to, your eyes snapping to him as he came to a sudden halt and turned around.

"I dropped one by accident, I guess I stepped in some of it," he played stupid as he looked at the bottom of his shoe, grabbing a dish towel and wiping it clean.

For some reason, you didn't completely believe him.

"I didn't hear any glass shatter," you countered, meeting his gaze as it slowly turned cold.

"It was a case of box wine," he said condescendingly. "Probably better off spilled anyways, am I right?"

Rachel laughed in agreement, a smile cracking across his face once he realized he had her fooled. But he hadn't completely fooled you, your eyes narrowing before you let the whole thing go.

You didn't get up to leave until well after dark and were slightly buzzed, giving Rachel a hug and thanking her and Cooper both for inviting you into their home.

"Of course! We're so glad to have you in the neighborhood! The last guy who was at your place was a bit of a grump so it's refreshing to see a young and new face!" she told you sweetly, her husband still only nodding in agreement.

"Thank you again," you smiled, Cooper turning to open the front door for you. You waved back to Rachel one last time before making your way out the door. The sudden feeling of Cooper's hand on the middle of your back made your breath hitch in your throat, but you made sure to play it off with a smile.

"Have a good night, sweetheart," his tone was nice and friendly, but the way the nickname made you feel inside was the complete opposite. Surely, he meant nothing by it. His wife paid no mind to it, still smiling as you walked out.

So why did it make a sudden rush of heat pool in your lower abdomen?

"Goodnight," you said one final time before you heard the door close behind you, and you could finally release the uneven breath you had been holding.

You leisurely made your way back over to your house, drunk on the 3 glasses of wine you had and the smell of Cooper's cologne that still waivered around your nostrils.

As you got ready for bed, you wondered if you had just been overthinking everything. Was that really just wine on the bottom of his shoe? The thought ate away at you as you replayed the entire night through your head, yet all that was clear in your mind was his stone-cold gaze.

There was no life behind his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, no matter how happy he seemed. There was a darkness. A darkness that you could feel when he spoke to you. When he placed his hand on your back. You shuddered as you remembered it, a white-hot warmth spreading between your thighs. It alarmed you how unsettled you were by him, but you felt even more concerned with how much you liked it.

The following week was quiet.

Your house was belatedly furnished to your liking, the last of your boxes had arrived Thursday afternoon, and you were finally starting to feel comfortable in your new home by the time Saturday rolled around.

You decided to treat yourself to a day out, shopping around downtown until you felt like you were going to drop. When you got home, you decided it would be nice to return the favor of hospitality to your new neighbors by giving them a basket full of little things you had bought while you were out.

As you made your way over to their front porch, you noticed there was only one car parked in the driveway. Deep down, you hoped it was Rachel's since you weren't completely sure if you could handle talking to Mr. Adams alone.

Once you stood before the door, you raised you hand to knock, hesitating before doing so, only to find that the door was cracked open. Carefully, you opened the door enough to peek your head in and peer around. All the lights were off as if no one was home.

"Mrs. Adams? Mr. Adams?" you called out, hoping for a response so you didn't feel so creepy intruding on someone's home.

Nothing.

You walked in further, shutting the door behind you and slowly making your way through the house. Gently, you set the basket on the kitchen table, your eyes falling on the basement door.

You knew you shouldn't be snooping around like this, but you had to know what was behind that door. You needed to know you weren't crazy.

Your steps were light as you tiptoed across the hardwood, your hand gripping the doorknob and slowly turning it as anticipation coursed through your veins. You flicked on the lights to see a desolate staircase—seemingly normal enough.

You cautiously took the risk of walking down the steps, getting about halfway down before you could see the full basement. A sudden horror washed over your body as you took in the sight before you.

A large red stain sat in the middle of the concrete floor, the grungy discoloration making you realize a cheap case of box wine wouldn't make such a prominent stain. It was something else—something thicker.

The next thing that stood out was two chains drilled into the back wall with cuffs hooked to their ends, the mere sight making your stomach churn as you thought about what those were used for. Below them, sat an old mattress that had too many stains on it to count. Some of which were a deep red that matched the one on the floor, sending a chill down your spine.

"What do you think you're doing down here, sweetheart? "

Your entire body went rigid as you looked over your shoulder to see Cooper standing at the top of the steps. His eyes were dark as he watched you intently, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he watched you back up in fear when he began to descend the steps.

As he came into the light, a sudden buzz overcame your senses as you took in his edged appearance. He wore nothing but a white t-shirt that exposed his toned arms and a dark pair of jeans. He exhibited the same lifeless expression behind his unsettling smile, each step he took making you take one back until he had you pushed up against the wall.

"Answer me," he practically growled. His fist was in your hair before you could think twice, pulling your head back roughly to make you look him in the eye. He was so close you could smell his cologne, the same one that had you in a daze only a week prior. It made a low whine sound at the back of your throat as your watery eyes met his.

You knew this was all wrong, but you couldn't deny the fire that blazed through your stomach as you could feel his hot breath against your cheek, making it harder and harder to keep your morals.

"I wanted to do something nice for you," you croaked. Arousal swirled between your legs as his grip tightened on your hair, a grunt of frustration blowing past his lips.

"What with that gift basket you left upstairs? You're gonna have to do a lot more than that to win me over, baby."

You whined in fear, but that's what fueled your rapture. The terror that coursed through your body heightened the pleasure you were feeling as he manhandled you.

"I'll do whatever you want me to," you told him, your fingers moving to dance across his lower stomach and down his crotch, teasing him as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. You hesitated slightly before letting the next word tumble out of your mouth.

"Daddy."

The name seemed to flip a switch in his brain, his large hands grabbing you and throwing you down onto the mattress and beginning to undo his belt. The clinking noise of his buckle made a surge of excitement jolt through your chest, propping yourself up on your elbows as he got a good look at you.

You looked helpless below him as he pulled his belt from his pants, his eyes not leaving your as he unzipped his jeans.

"Get on your knees," he told you sharply, his tone low and graveled. You were quick to do as he said, sitting up to kneel on the mattress with your feet tucked underneath you.

A rush of arousal went straight to his lower half as he looked down on you, the power to corrupt you to no end eating away at his brain. It felt almost as good as a kill; the feeling of you putting your life in his hands, unaware of what he intended to do with it. Your obedience astounded him and he couldn't wait any longer to dip into you.

With one hand, he pulled himself from his boxers while the other cupped the back of your head, guiding you towards his already hard member.

"Open," he muttered sternly, his fingers raking through the hair at the nape of your neck as he eased his dick into your mouth, halting his movements once his tip reached the back of your throat. "Good girl, take it all for me."

Your lips closed around him, moaning as he began a steady pace of thrusting into your mouth. Both of his hands were tangled into your locks now, using them as leverage while he fucked your throat. Your palm grasped at his jean-clad thigh, your nails digging into the rough denim as he shoved his dick farther and farther. As much as you would allow.

"Fucking take it," he said through gritted teeth, harsh grunts ripping through his throat as your eyes began to water. You continued to look up at him, watching his face contort with pleasure while he used you like a fuckdoll, strings of saliva pooling out of the corners of your mouth.

You were practically soaked through your panties by the time he came down your throat with an aggressive tug on your hair, shoving you down so far on his cock that your nose brushed with the small tuft of hair along his pubic bone.

You pulled off of him with a gasp. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath and wipe away the streaks of mascara from your cheeks stained from tears. He couldn't get enough of how you were like putty in his hands, abiding by whatever he told you with such compliance.

"Good job, sweetheart,' he said in a softer manner. "Might not have to kill you after all."

Your stomach felt like it had caved in at his words, your eyes widening as he tugged the t-shirt over his head. But the threat still made your core throb, your thighs clenching together in response.

"Take your clothes off," he demanded, watching you carefully as you slowly unbuttoned your shirt. Your fingers trembled as you tugged your shorts down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments as he finally crouched down to your level.

You lay back on the dirty mattress, watching his hand as it reached into his back pocket to reveal a large pocket knife. It flipped open, glinting sharply in the light as he brought the blade to the supple skin of your neck. The metal was cool against your warm skin, making a shiver run down your spine.

His eyes danced across your lustful expression, his heart pounding from the thrill that surged through his body. He had you right where he wanted you, the blade slowly running down your chest before stopping at your sternum and hooking under the band of your bra.

You couldn't take your eyes away from him, eager to see what he would do next. With one swift movement, he ripped the knife right through the lacy fabric, tearing your bra at the front to reveal your chest. You watched his eyes dilate at the sight of your breasts, a low groan falling from his lips.

The blade trailed down your stomach, Cooper dragging the sharp point against your skin as it moved lower to your hips. His eyes were dark as he did the same with your panties as he did your bra, cutting them off of you with such aggression that you couldn't help but moan.

"Please, fuck me," you gasped, impatience taking over you as Cooper took in your naked appearance. You didn't realize he had nicked you in the process of removing your underwear, the crimson blood running down your hip thickly.

"You want me to fuck you?" he taunted, expressionless. His thumb smeared the blood around on your smooth skin, satisfied with the way it stained you. His large hand then gripped the back of your knee, pulling you closer to him and making you slide all the way down onto your back with your thighs on either side of his hips.

You only whined, needy for his touch. You didn't care how pathetic you seemed.

"I'll fuck you," he said with an aggravated tone. He quickly gripped your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach so you were trapped face down between his large body and the mattress. "I'll fuck you like the whore you are and you're gonna take it like a good girl, understand?"

His hand was in your hair once more, pulling your head back for you to look at him.

"Yes!" you sobbed, tears falling from your eyes as you ground your ass back against his crotch to get some sort of friction, which only angered him further. He shoved your head back down against the mattress, his free hand grasping his dick to line himself up with your entrance before shoving himself into you without warning.

"Yes, what?" he pried, his lips right at your ear as he pinned your body down with his.

"Yes, Daddy! I'll be your good girl I promise!" you cried, a raspy moan ripping from your throat once he finally thrust into you again, his hips beginning a slow but hard rhythm of fucking you. You reeled with pleasure, ecstatic with the feeling of his thick cock pounding your slick cunt over and over again.

With each brush of his tip against your cervix you thought you were done for, your thighs beginning to tremble as his pace quickened.

"That's it," he groaned, pulling you up from your vulnerable position by your hair, your back tight against his toned chest. "Taking all of me so good."

His arm snaked around your neck, locking your head in the crook of his elbow and tightening it. Your hands grasped at his forearm, your nails digging into his skin as he took the air right out of your lungs with each flex of his muscle.

"P-Please," you gasped, becoming scared as your mind went fuzzy and your vision blurred. He still continued his hard thrusts but ultimately loosened his grip on you after a few moments of torture.

You tiredly flopped back down to the mattress once he let go of you, his hands gripping your hips to gain more leverage as his thrusts became quicker and more sporadic. You could tell he was getting close to his release, but still had a few more tricks up his sleeve.

"You're not giving up on me yet, are you, baby?" he rasped, stilling his movements to flip you over onto your back one final time, before regaining his harsh pace.

You shook your head in response as you were unable to form coherent words—only disgruntled moans and pants that were music to his ears.

His rough hands gripped your leg and threw it over his shoulder to pound into you at a deeper angle, which had the coil in your stomach unraveling by the second. You were nearly there as well, your core clenching around him desperately. His hands moved to their rightful spot on your neck, restricting your airflow once again.

"Fuck me, Daddy," you moaned, making intense eye contact with him as he continued to drill into you. "Fuck me full of your cum!"

Your words made him shudder, his hips stuttering as he ultimately tipped over the edge of pleasure and came deep inside of you.

You let yourself succumb to your orgasm at the sound of his deep, guttural groan as he came, clawing at his muscular back (which was sure to leave marks) to bring yourself back to reality.

You lay limp on the mattress as he pulled himself from your used cunt with a hiss. You felt brain-dead, overwhelmed with the memory of his cock using you to no end. Your teary eyes met his, and all he could do was smile down at your fucked-out expression.

"Don't look at me like that, baby. We're only getting started."

tags ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ @one-of-thewalkingdead @acidqueensstuff @dirtylittlefairytales @rosaleelovesdilfs @lickit-up @prozacwhorehouse @lilly3434 @hereforthehitsbaby @redpillbluepill @iloveanthonyramos @littlered0000 @rubyfruitjungle @katyushakoschenka @queenofgotham2316 @pastelpinkflowerlife @angelsgalore @strangererotica @lustkitty69 @ajs-222 @coopers-bunny @a-movie-that-youve-never-seen @cattt777

[darknight3904]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘈 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘵 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘐𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024). 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯 𝘝, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦.

𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥/𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 30𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3.1𝘬

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 / 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

The next two weeks following your rooftop conversation with Logan were odd ones. The apartment is calmer than normal as the two of you fall into a rhythm with each other. Usually, that rhythm was in silence, but it was still a rhythm.

Logan, like the freak of nature he was, always got up before anyone else and would start a pot of coffee. Eventually, you'd show up, still groggy and clad in pajamas for him to hand you a piping hot mug with just the right amount of sugar and milk. It had taken him two days to figure out exactly how you liked your coffee.

The two of you would usually then eat breakfast, and then depending on the day, you'd go off to work, or on your days off, you'd eat breakfast with him while the TV ran in the background.

During this time, you learned a few things about this new version of Logan the universe has gifted you. For example, if he was reading a book, every few pages, he'd lick the tip of his finger to turn a page. Another would be how he tapped his foot to the beat of a song if he liked it. You presumed Logan was also picking up on the little ticks that you performed as you lived your life. Of course, you didn't ask him if he was.

Sure, these weeks had been peaceful, but at the same time wildly aggravating. It was as though nearly all of your anger for the man that was currently loudly slurping cereal from his bowl, had disappeared in a puff of smoke. You had stolen so many glances at him over the past few days, hoping you might find some anger lingering in your soul for the bearded hunk of muscle yet, you always came up empty.

It was Wade who first pointed out to you that you were running low on hatred.

"You two are totally best buds, or should I say best bubs now?"

"We are not." You rolled your eyes as you handed him his lunch that he had forgotten at the apartment.

"Sure ya are. Let me know when the wedding bells chime, and I'll dust off my flower girl dress.

Wade was so full of shit it was practically leaking out of his ears.

Logan was a mystery to you. To outsiders (Wade) he was like a mean old barn cat. Quick to give a rebuttal and swat whatever kind words the annoying man had to say. Then, as if his brain was surgically removed and recalibrated, he'd turn into the biggest softie and start flirting with you.

You weren't dumb. You could see that he was into you from a million miles away. It made sense, considering the positive relationship he had with you in his universe. Well, before he fucked it up that is. What you didn't get is why he was so invested after all these months. You had been so cold and rude to him, hell, you had blown off his leg once in an argument. Yet, the past two weeks had been a whirlwind of boyish charm and little glances he probably thought you didn't notice. It was downright annoying how deep he was under your skin.

The worst part of it all was the fear that was eating you alive. Sure, the daylight chased it away and you rarely thought about it when you were actually with him. But late at night, when Laura was fast asleep, fear was all you felt. You were terrified of it, falling in love with him again. You couldn't do it again. And yet, here you sat, staring at that handsome face again like none of it had even happened in the first place.

"What're you doing today?" Logan asks

"I was thinking about starting Gilmore Girls. Or maybe Gossip Girl..." You say, "I need a new show to watch."

"Gossip Girl for sure." Wade says, standing at the microwave, watching his breakfast burrito heat up, "That Serena is the hottest person I've ever seen."

"Aren't you and Vanessa back together?" You ask

"Am I not allowed to appreciate other hot people in this world? Don't worry about it, I'll tell Blake about this later. Clearly, you don't find her attractive."

You scoff, only a moron would think Blake Lively wasn't attractive.

"Anyway, you two are not allowed to camp in the living room and binge-watch whatever show you had your eyes set on." Wade declares

"And why is that?" Logan asks, "Thought this was a free country?"

"Oh, it is. And that's why we are taking a trip to Coney Island today. Vanessa got free tickets from her work and we are all invited." Wade grins

You glance at Logan who already is looking at you, his eyes practically asking what your opinions were on this.

"Alright, fine. But you're not allowed to peer pressure me into any rides I don't want to go on." You point at Wade

"Deal." He grins, "Now go wake up Laura. I'd do it, but last time I woke her she stabbed both my eyeballs in and took that little foot knife of hers to my balls."

"Sounds like someone I know." You tease, gently kicking Logan's shin under the table

"I've never done that to you." He says looking at you confused.

"Um hello, what about me? Do I not have feelings? Did the night in the Honda Oddessy mean nothing to you?" Wade gasps dramatically

"No, It didn't."

"You insensitive bastard! I'm telling my therapist about you!"

Coney Island's boardwalk is crowded despite the cooler fall weather. You walk along in between Laura and Logan, observing the many different kinds of people that flock to the tourist trap. In front of you, Wade's toupee is shiner than normal as he walks hand in hand with Vanessa.

"Do you think he shampooed that thing before seeing her today?" Laura asked on your left

"Oh definitely." You reply

"Probably deep conditioned too. A hair mask or two." Logan chimed in from your right

"How do you know what a deep condition is? Or a hair mask?" You ask, bewildered

"When you've been alive for two hundred years, you pick up on things, bub." He says

"You've done a hair mask before, haven't you?" Laura eyed him suspiciously

"No," Logan said sheepishly

"You're so full of shit." She laughed

You lean over to whisper in her ear, "Bet he's gotten a blowout before too."

"You two know I can hear you, right?" Logan scowls

"You're too easy to pick on." You point out, patting his back

"Can you two stop eye fucking and hurry it up? I want to get in line for the Cyclone before it gets too long!" Wade groans

"Do you think we're being rude by leaving Al at home?" You ask as you stand next to Logan in line

"I'm pretty sure Wade left some cocaine out and put Jeopardy on for her. Besides, what would she even do here?" Logan says looking around at the games and rides.

"True. She's probably eating chips on the couch getting crumbs all over the cushions again." You sigh, thinking of all the times you've vacuumed the couch.

The line goes by surprisingly quick and before you know it, the loud clicking of the coaster's tracks fills your ears as you glance over the side of the cart at the people that looked like ants from so high up. Beside you, you're surprised to see Logan looking rather light-headed.

"Are you okay?" You ask, surprised at his obvious fear.

"Fine." He says, in a short tone you're not used to hearing.

You glance down at the lap bar, which he seems to be holding onto like it's going to unlatch at any second.

"You seem tense." You say

"I'm fine." He growls

"Peanut, don't tell me you're scared back there!" Wade calls over his shoulder from the cart in front of you, "This coaster is a piece of history! I bet Cap rode this when he was still skinny!"

"Shut up." Logan commands

The loud click, signifying you have reached the top of the drop has Logan silent. The loud screams of strangers reach your ears as the coaster drops. You can hear Wade and Vanessa, laughing and yelling in joy as the 85 foot drop commences.

"Holy shit!"

Logan's loud curse beside you has you looking over at him. He truly looked terrified. The ride continues and you try to keep yourself from laughing at Logan, whose knuckles are turning white as he grips the restraint.

A fast turn has you lifting slightly out of your seat, and the sound of screeching metal reaches your ears. On your right, Logan's claws have come out, his eyes still squeezed shut.

The ride begins to slow and you slowly reach out, placing your hand over Logan's

"It's over." You say to him

His eyes blink open and he looks over at you and then down to your hand that rests carefully ontop of his. As you roll back into the loading dock, his claws retract, out of sight before someone can point and stare.

"You survived." You joke as you unbuckle yourself

"Barely." He huffs as he steps out of the cart

"See? It wasn't that bad." Wade smiles, hooking Vanessa's arm in his. "Fun right?"

"That's not the word I'm thinking of," Logan says as he sticks close to you

"We should go again," Laura says as you exit the ride

You can't help but notice that Logan looks a bit green as you walk the boardwalk so when Wade suggests the next high-thrill coaster, you decide to stay on the ground with him.

"You don't have to sit with me," Logan says as the two of you get comfortable on a wooden bench

"Just between you and me, that ride Wade is waiting for is insane. I'd never step foot on it." You admit with a smile

"If he goes flying out of the restraints, I hope someone gets it on camera," Logan says

You nod in agreement, deciding it would indeed be a funny image.

Logan still seems rather distant so You glance around your surroundings wondering if there's any way to distract from his recent "near death" experience. Your eyes land on a soft pretzel cart.

"Wait here." You say, gently tapping his thigh with your hand

Two soft pretzels and a couple of overpriced sodas later. you're doing your best to cheer up The Wolverine, who apparently hates thrill rides.

"Want to walk around some more? They're gonna be waiting for at least another hour." He asks

"How'd you eat so quickly?" You ask, men it was like they inhaled their food. Who was he? Kirby?

"Not my fault you're slow." He shrugs

You polish off your food and suggest a walk along the beach, tired of hearing screaming children and the loud noise of rides.

The sun is beginning to set as you kick off your shoes and let the cold water of the Atlantic wash over your feet.

"Kind of cold," Logan comments as he watches the water lap over his feet

"Don't be a baby." You brush him off as the two of you walk along where the waves meet the sand.

Pale orange paints the sky beautifully as you walk in silence, listening to the waves crash and the seagulls squawk. Cool wind messes with your hair as you steal glances at Logan. At one point, you catch him doing the same and you feel your face heat up, turning your gaze to your sandy feet.

You can't say it, or rather won't, but he's pretty like this. Dark blue jeans, paired with a flannel and black leather jacket. You can even see a bit of his chest hair peaking out from the top button of the flannel being undone.

"This is the longest you've gone without insulting me." He points out

"You want me to insult you?" You ask

"No." He says, "Just pointing it out."

You roll your eyes but can't help finding it a bit endearing that he picked up on that.

"You like the beach?" He asks, surveying the picturesque scenery.

"I do." You sigh, "I think I like the forest more though. A rainy day in a house with the woods in my backyard? The way the snow lines the trees in the winter? Those are my favorite."

Logan nods and his hand brushes yours. You pretend not to notice it, the way his skin sends tingles up your spine as the two of you walk along.

"What about you? You like the beach?" You ask

"It's alright. I don't like all the flying rats that steal your food." He says, motioning to the orange sky.

"You mean seagulls?" You ask

"Isn't that what I just said?"

You snort an unladylike laugh and slap your hand over your mouth, fully mortified that just happened.

Logan gives you a mischievous look as you open your mouth to apologize.

"Ever play tag?" He grins

You're not sure if he's two hundred or two as he taps your arm and dashes off, declaring that you're "it". You follow him with a groan, forcing your legs to run after him.

"Logan!" You yell as he puts distance between the two of you, the orange from the last bits of today's sun illuminating him.

There was no way you were catching him like this so, you focus your mind on him. Your brain easily becomes in tune he way his heart quickly beat to pump blood to his legs and arms as he ran. Got him.

Logan lets out a groan of frustration as you approach him, frozen to the sand under your command.

"Looks like you're it now." You say, tapping his shoulder

"This is cheating." He says, "You can't use your powers for this."

"No one is stopping you from using yours." You say

"What would I do? Cut you in half?" He asks

He never gets his answer as you jog off, putting some distance between the two of you before letting him move again. You think you might have a bit of a chance to run further as you move along. Perhaps he isn't as fast as you thought he was,

Big arms startle you when they wrap around your waist, lifting you up. Ocean water splashes onto your pants as you shriek in fear while Logan laughs.

"Looks like you're it again, hon." He says into your ear, spinning you around

"Put me down." You laugh

"I think we should go further into the water, actually." Logan declares

You push at his arms which are like steel as he takes a few steps forward so the water is up to his shins.

"Logan these are new jeans!" You gasp, lying to see if he'll let you go That ocean water was freezing, no way was he going to dunk you in there.

"We have a washer."

His deep voice sends a shot of electricity down your spine as his beard tickles your neck from behind.

"Yeah! Drown her!"

Wade's loud voice carries across the beach as Logan's grip loosens. You push yourself away from him, breathless and dizzy with excitement. The cold water comes up and splashes onto your pants anyway and you grumble a bit, thinking of how cold they'll be on the trip home.

Your foul mood is chased away as Logan leans down to your ear and whispers, "We should drown him, get some peace and quiet back home."

"I'll hold him down." You joke

"Don't give me ideas." Logan grins

As the two of you walk up the beach, you don't miss the way Laura is whispering to Vanessa, no doubt about you and Logan.

The rest of the night is spent with laughter and some of the unhealthiest food you've had in a while. You drag Logan onto the Tilt-a-Whirl, and then the Scrambler, and somehow pull him onto the Teacups, spinning the cup until both of you are dizzy beyond compare. Despite his negative attitude about it all, you can tell he enjoyed the rides, he was just too proud to admit it in front of Wade.

As for Wade, in his words, he was ascending to God level, and someone needed to call Thor and Loki because Asgard needed him. The source of his new ego? He had somehow managed to win three prizes from one of those usually rigged games and now he, Vanessa, and Laura all had matching stuffed dinosaurs.

Unfortunately for Logan, tonight was not his night for the games and he had just lost another five bucks to some rigged ring toss.

"You should probably forget it, Peanut. I'm on a whole different level than you."

Wade's words were certainly under the gruff man's skin as he slapped another five onto the counter, clearly not interested in being outdone.

"Is this their version of comparing dick sizes?" Vanessa asked, tossing an arm around your shoulders as Laura snickered at her joke.

"I'm pretty sure they've already done that." You laugh

You watch as Wade dances around Logan, saying things to him to get him to screw up. If this was your living room, Wade would've been missing a few limbs by now.

One loud shut the fuck up from Logan and a few lucky tosses as well, the worker is unenthusiastically proclaiming his win. Before you know it, a stuffed dolphin is being handed to you by Logan who seems overly smug about his win.

You don't want to admit that he probably spent triple what the toy was worth, so instead you thank him earnestly and ask him for an idea for a name.

"I dunno...what about...Frank?" He says

"You just spent like 30 bucks and you want to name him Frank?" You laugh

"I'm not good at naming shit," Logan grumbles, staring at his feet

"I'm joking." You smile, nudging him with your elbow so he looks at you again," Frank is perfect."

"Frank Howlett." Wade sighs shoving himself in the middle of you and Logan and tossing his arms around both of you, "What a cute family you are! Call me when the baptism planning starts! I want to be the Godfather."

Logan shrugs Wade's arm off his shoulders and pushes him away from the both of you.

"You're an annoying prick."

"Keep degrading me, it's my favorite form of foreplay."

"Ignore him, let's go on the bumper cars." You advise, pointing at the ride that's a few yards away.

You swallow back that fear that often plagues your mind and heart and daringly link your arm around Logan's. He quickly looks down at you and smiles a bit as you pull him off in the direction of the ride.

"Don't take it personally, buddy." Vanessa says, rubbing a hand up and down Wade's back, "You're just not his type."

"First of all, I'm everyone's type," Wade said, turning to catch Laura off guard with a boop to the nose,

"Secondly, when are these two motherfuckers going to kiss? Seriously it's been like five chapters and they're still dancing around like it's the fucking homecoming dance in freshman year!"

"C'mon, let's go ride the bumper cars," Vanessa says, pulling him along, Laura close behind.

"I'm serious! This slow burn can't slow burn much longer, I'll light my toupee on fire and toss it at this writer's fucking cat if something doesn't happen soon!"

Chapter Six

I've never been to Coney Island. So no one is allowed to clock me if I got stuff wrong.

here are some pics of my cat. Don't worry I'm going to keep her safe from Wade and his flaming toupee:

Tags:

@kellyxo1 @mystiquesvendetta @gingerplague

@veru-boom @qardasngan @fandomsunited @reidsworld

@arrozconpepitoria @iamm3 @gigabitemyass @wordacadabra

@e-ak @khaylin27  @eternallyfrustratedwriter @chaimshelii

@badbishsblog @britttzy267 @lilly4639 @delicateholland

@cherrypieyourface @scrumptiousroadpalaceturkey

@one-of-castiels @littlemissoblivious @littledebbieinabigworld

@kbear8863 @one-of-castiels @jeysbae @moonixlity @spktrlvr

@chronicallybubbly @fearlessxlaurin @m1cky-y-y @loserbaby66

@commanderawkward  @mega-kittyglitter-1 @oidloid @mariaxman

@mariaxman @c3liaaaaa @midcenturymanhattan-blog @flamingbisexual08 @batrensworld

@fallout-girl219

@mrs-ephemeral @halepack2011 @insanesosciopath @venusindelusion @wolverines-tits

[steviewashere]

I want to write something sort of meta, hear me out on it. Sorry, if this hits too close to home. The idea came to me and I needed to get it out of my system. And...would you look at that, another half-written fic.

Steve ends up getting really into Star Wars after Dustin shows him to it. Like, so much that he gets himself involved with conventions, cosplay, collecting anything and everything he can. He's involved in a fandom space. Learns the world of fan fiction. And let's say that maybe, during his time figuring out where he wants to go with life, he picks up writing fanfic as a hobby.

It encourages him to get an English degree. Encourages him to lean more into that hobby, but then expanding upon it to write original short stories and small novels that go published. But he holds strong to Star Wars and fandom and finding his spot cemented in it. He's been a fan for...nearly forty years at this point (set in 2024, ugh I know).

And maybe he dabbles in online spaces here and there. He ignores the insufferable adults in the Star Wars fandom (the "um, actually..." guys, btw). Indulges the effort of typing out his handwritten fan fiction, ones he used to bring and pass around at conventions, ones he'd let Eddie read with a shy look in his eyes. And he posts them online, has a Tumblr account, maybe does a few short things on Twitter, definitely is on AO3 (albeit newer, having never attempted online fan work before).

But then...then he gets his first little bit of hate. Vicious, gross comments on his work. Sometimes in private messages. Even publicly, once, on Twitter. It irks him. He holds strong, he does. But then it gets worse and worse and somehow, worse. Younger people claiming he's too old, others claiming that he can't write for certain characters because they're out of his age range, that he can't ship certain people, he can't say that a character would do this or that, that Star Wars is media for a younger audience (despite being somebody who saw it "back in the day"). But that he...That he's not supposed to be there.

And that last little comment sticks with him for a long time. It makes his effort and his attention and his love for writing fanworks falter. He stops. Thinks about the characters he loves, of Leia and Han or even Luke and Han or Lando and Han (listen he loves writing Han). But then he wonders if it's even worth it, to indulge this interest anymore. Yeah, maybe he's older than the source material. Sure, maybe he was introduced to it a little later than most, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. Yet, his attention towards Star Wars completely falls away.

He stops watching it. His DVDs going dusty and unused. Starts putting away all his action figures, because what if he posts a photo one day and somebody sees them and claims that that's not for him and—

Then, he goes completely offline from fandom. Even if he still gets the emails from users who actually enjoy his stuff, ignoring them completely. Focuses on using the internet for work. For his novels, for the little stories he actually gets paid to write. But his work just isn't the same. The passion, despite being an original story and original source material, is completely dwindled.

His hobby has been stripped from him. His interest has been knocked straight out of his hands. And he just...moves on.

Even if it hurts to go down into the basement of he and Eddie's home, eyes catching on the see-through bins of original action figures, Lego sets, comic books. Even if it makes something strangle in his chest when he opens up the browser on his phone and it immediately opens to a new ship he'd been getting into: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker—because he finally picked up The Mandalorian, because he was finally talked into watching it when he had the free time.

And then it all bursts over when Eddie finally approaches him about it, when they're enjoying a night-in, sitting around lazily on their sofa.

"There's a convention coming into town," he comments, "supposedly, Hayden Christensen is going to be there. We should go, try and meet him."

Steve just grunts in response.

"Oh-kay...or we could just stay home and watch the movie?" Eddie suggests. "Been a while since I've seen Darth on screen, telling Luke about"—

"I don't want to," Steve cuts in quietly, "isn't really my thing anymore."

Silence then follows. For a beat. Then two. A third.

"Not your thing?" Eddie asks him incredulously. "Not too long ago you were raving all about that new show that's coming out! That you saw they were doing lightsaber whips and you were excited to see how they worked! What do you mean it's 'not your thing'?"

Steve shrugs. "Grew out of it or whatever. Got more important things to focus on now." He sniffs, trying to keep himself held together, grumpy and firm in his decision.

Eddie's stare drills into the side of his face. Scalding, just like that lava was in Revenge of The Sith. "Baby," he speaks softly, "did something happen? You haven't even...you don't read your beautiful little stories to me anymore. In fact, now that I think about it, I haven't even seen your lightsabers around here. What's goin' on?"

He fiddles with the hem of his shirt. A ratty plain white t-shirt that he wears now when he's lounging around the house. It used to be one with the Millennium Falcon on it, but that's tucked down far in his dresser. Not for him anymore.

"Steve," Eddie presses, "did something happen?"

His stare stays down at his lap, still fiddling with his shirt. Fingers flexing unfamiliarly in the strings, unlike the loose ones on his Star Wars shirts. "I just"—Steve heaves a deep sigh—"it's time I grow up. It's...not for me anymore. Too old for it now, I guess."

"You guess or you know? Because nobody's too old for anything. Unless, y'know, you're like eighty-nine and in terrible health and trying to hike Everest, then..."

Despite everything, Steve finds himself chuckling. A giddy little sound here and gone in a breath. He shrugs again, albeit smaller this time. Crumbling within himself. Quietly, honestly, he admits, "People were being mean to me about it online. About my writing. That I'm doing it wrong, that I—that I'm too old for it. That I don't belong because of my age." He finally brings himself to look at Eddie, blearily because his eyes are aching and wet. "I got to thinking and I...maybe I've just been too caught up in my own bliss to realize that those people are right. They're right and I shouldn't be into kids stuff anymore."

Eddie makes a soft, sad cooing noise in the back of his throat. "Oh, baby," he breathes. "Baby, those people don't know a single damn thing about your love. But...but I do. I know that you've seen every single Star Wars movie more times than I've probably eaten in my entire life. And what about all those Halloween costumes over the years? I didn't dress up like Leia for nothing, Mr. Solo."

Steve scoffs wetly. Goes to protest, but—

"And...and that handshake! The one with Dustin? You guys have had that for nearly forty fucking years! So, why bother indulging any of these...these hardasses on the internet? Did they sit next to you on the sofa as you fucking curled yourself like a shrimp and wrote every little intricate detail of a kiss between Luke and Han? Have they read your work while you blushed all shy, while you tucked your hair behind your ear and asked for the most earnest of feedback, to make sure you spelt things correctly or put a comma in the right place? These people, did they get to see you blossom and grow like a fucking bushel of roses over your hobby?

"Because I know I did. And even though you were nervous about your words on the paper, you still came to me. You still wrote and wrote and wrote until I had to bully you into breaks, just so you wouldn't ruin your poor wrists. If they had even an ounce of the passion that you do, they could write their own stories. They can make their own endings and make the characters the way they imagine them.

"They choose, instead, to—what—make fun of you because you have a space to express yourself? Because you found passion and turned it into something so beautiful, even I—a dungeon master, someone supposed to be amazing at storytelling—can't put into words? You found a way to do that, Steve. And you do that with kindness. You do it for free, mind you. If their only passion sits within sending you vitriol over people who aren't even remotely close to real, then they're the ones who don't belong.

"If I've learned anything, fandom is a space to share and bounce off each other's words. It's community and it's belonging and it's sharing what you love because you just love it. Fandom isn't bullying. Bullying is just bullying, Steve.

"And everything you've ever done in your life, in regards to fandom and outside of it, is so much better than hate. You may be a nerd or...or a little bit overzealous or whatever, but at least you aren't hateful. I think being hateful, that's worse—don't you think?"

Steve can only stare in response, fast tears down his cheeks, hands shaking in his shirt. Mind reeling. Because, yes, Eddie's right. And he maybe should've talked about it initially, but the hurt festered and festered and tangled and grew until he was nothing but an unhealed scab. And Eddie, he's the antiseptic to his uncovered cuts—the ones deep on his heart, where all his love is—even for things considered mundane, like movies, like TV shows.

"Steve," Eddie carefully murmurs, wrapping Steve's hands with his own, "you don't have to do something right to love it. You don't have to be a certain way to be happy. If Star Wars made you happy, then why give it up?"

He sniffles and chokes back on a sob. Because, again—damnit—Eddie's right. "I miss it," he admits quietly, "all I've done is miss it."

Eddie gives him a small smile. Something achingly soft that reaches deep within Steve. "Then open your arms and welcome it back, baby," he whispers, "even if you can't be online anymore, do it for yourself."

"I...I want to try it again, I'm just...scared. What if people hate it all over again? What if they're just nasty to me and shut me down and push me to the side and"—

"But what if they love it? What if your readers have missed you just as much?"

"You think?" he meekly asks.

Eddie's eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "I know, actually. Your emails keep coming in on the computer's desktop because I keep forgetting to log you out. And, baby, you would not believe how many people have been eager for updates, for your return." His thumbs work into the backs of Steve's hands, warm and sure. "And, if it helps, maybe I can moderate your comments before you look at 'em? I'll read them to myself and if they're mean, I'll delete them."

Steve blows out a breathy little chuckle. "You'll just get mad at them," he gently teases. "But that doesn't sound too bad. Maybe I should try again. Not yet, though. I'm not ready."

"That's okay," Eddie assures, "take things slow. Maybe we start with watching the movies again? Getting your lightsabers back on display?"

"Can we go to the convention, too?"

"We can do whatever you want, Stevie."

For the first time in a long while, Steve finds himself smiling. "I love you," he whispers.

"I know."