#he cant replace Wes in my eyes

[confused-wanderer]

It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.

Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.

The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.

No one fucks with Gothamites.

Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*

Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.

Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE

Or

Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*

Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*

Thief: .. what the actual fuck

Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D

Thief:

Dick: I’m from Gotham

Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones

OR

Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*

Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.

Shooter:

Dick:

Shooter:

Dick: .. Hi :)

Shooter: Are you Satan?

AND

In interrogation room

Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection

Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you

Murderer: .. what

Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-

Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you

Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.

Murderer:

Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.

Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.

But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.

Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.

Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven

Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.

Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?

Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!

Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?

Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.

Red Robin: Wait what did he do?

Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.

Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop

Red Hood: Well even I could do that-

Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.

Red robin *growing concerned*

Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!

Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.

*all nodding in agreement*

Red hood:

Red Robin:

Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick

Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.

*villains’ sobbing intensifies*

[mattybsgroupie]

pretty | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); praising; use of “y/n”; sub!matt

- ♡ -

notes: i woke up insanely horny and ive been thinking about matt all week and how much i want to take care of him, praise him, give all the love and care he needs :( it’s a really short one but i hope you enjoy - not proofread as usual, also i made a pinned post so yall might wanna check it out ♡

- ♡ -

“y/n” i heard matt calling, snapping me out of my thoughts. we were laying down on the couch, my head resting on his shoulder as we scrolled mindlessly on our phones “do you think i’m pretty?”

“what?” i said, completely caught off guard. “what do you mean matt?”

“like… i know i’m not the funniest or smartest guy but i always thought i was good looking” he started, locking his phone screen and tossing it away “but you know what i’m talking about, you saw it didn’t you?”

of course i did - and he was right being beyond pissed by it.

“babe, you are the funniest and the smartest guy i know” i moved myself, now being able to fully face him as i cupped his cheeks, a pout appearing on matt’s lips. “you’re also the toughest” i said, kissing him playfully as he giggled.

“the strongest…” i whispered in his ear, my fingertips traveling through his neck “the hottest” i couldn’t help but kissing his jaw as i said it, his growing beard tickling my skin. “you’re the most handsome, babe”

“you want me to show how pretty you are?” i finally stopped the kisses, my left hand pressing on his tummy under the white shirt he was wearing. my digits kept on running down matt’s body, caressing every inch of skin i could get.

“you don’t have to” he smiled, putting a strand of hair behind my ear and fixing the mess my hair was after spending the whole night against the couch. “don’t be silly”

“i’m not!” i frowned my eyebrows and widened my eyes, staring at him before landing by his waistband, tent starting to show on his pants.

“and i dont think this guy think it’s silly, does he?” i joked about how sensitive matt was, getting worked up from the slightest praise. he rolled his eyes, pretending not to notice.

“shall we take this off?” i asked, tugging the cloth away. matt’s attitude broke down in a second, nodding eagerly as he lift his hips, allowing me to pull his pants down. with his half-hard cock exposed, i then touched the hem of his shirt, silently asking for permission.

matt quickly understood and removed his last piece of clothing, totally naked. i smiled before kissing him, matt’s embarrassment completely washing away and being replaced by desperation. his palms met my covered breasts, massaging it before i pulled away from the kiss, my lips focused on marking his neck. i could hear matt’s breathing getting heavier, grip on my boobs getting stronger.

“yes, good boy” i cooed, receiving a muffled groan in response. “huh? what is it baby, you like being my good boy?”

“y-yeah, fuck” matt said, covering his eyes with his forearm, once again getting shy. i gently removed it, making him look at me in the eyes.

“look at this, how pretty you are, hm?” i said, now staring at his full hard-on, matt’s dick almost slapping on his belly “i love your tattoos, have i told you that?” i tried to distract him while my hand brushed over his cock, barely touching it. “makes you look even tougher”

“i’m not tough- ah!” he whined as i cupped his balls, slightly caressing them.

“i can tell, babe” i giggled, “can i?”

“please” he begged, puppy eyes watering “touch me, please”

“how can you say you’re not pretty? i want you to keep looking, babe. be a good boy for me alright?” i commanded, my fingers wrapping around matt’s length, slowly starting to pump him. “look at your cock, i cant barely close my fist, you’re so big” i kissed his collarbones as i praised him, making sure he kept his eyes on my hand jerking him off. matt twitched inside my fist, holding his hips from bucking forward.

“love that huge cock inside of me matt, you stretch me so well” i moved thumb to his tip, pre-cum leaking from his slit as i circled it. “oh, you’re already leaking?” i said, seeing how wet he was just from me fastening my pace.

“shit y/n i’m sorry i-” i shushed him, “shhh, i don’t wanna hear anything other than your moans”. matt gave up on trying to hold his sounds, lower lip finally getting a break after being bitten for the last ten minutes. his free hand went to my thigh, nails digging strong into my skin. his whines turned to whimpers, spasms taking over his body.

“what is it babe? wanna cum?” i asked, “i will only let you if you repeat what i say” he turned his head aside, looking at me eagerly. “i’m pretty”.

“y/n… c’mon, f-fuck” matt rolled his eyes, embarrassment preventing him to speak out loud. i gradually stopped the movements with my hand - matt knew he had to say it if he wanted to cum. “i-im… pretty”

“i’m so strong” i started pumping him once again, tightening my grip around his length.

“i’m so strong” matt repeated, not so shy anymore. “what else are you baby?”

“i’m… handsome” it sounded like a question, as if he wanted me to reassure he was right. “and i’m… a good boy”.

“yes, yes you are, sweetie” i cooed, knowing his aching cock wasn’t gonna let him form any other sentences. “gonna cum for me?”

“can i? please?” i clenched my eyes, letting him speak. “please c-cum for you, need it so bad”. i nodded and heard his whimpers as he finally relaxed his body, white ropes of cum from his release covering my fist and his lower belly, matt’s chest rising as he panted heavily. i finally got back to my former position, head resting on his shoulder as matt came back to his senses and i kept on praising him on how good he was.

“you did so good for me”

“thank you” matt said under his breath, a smiling finally appearing on his blushed face. “am i really everything you said? even the funniest?” he giggled, soon hovering his arm over my shoulder, grabbing me on a hug as i made myself comfortable in his embrace.

“yes you are, matthew!” i rolled my eyes before giving in and laughing with him, relieved that the only thing my boy needed was a reminder on how pretty he was.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler

[youaremysunshine-court]

Accidentally creating second book lore when I've barely written the finstead book

[hon3y-y]

your choso has rewired my brain...literally cant stop thinking about popular reader who has a new bf every week x virgin nerd choso who despite his inexperience has every intention to leave you dumb on the end of his cock. He even lets you slap his books down and talk shit about him with your little girlfriends in public, but behind closed doors you're the one crying and begging him hdjsjs definition of 'send her back to her bf w my handprint on her ass' aaaaa and if its a love story, it turns out chosos had the fattest crush on her bc he knows shes actually a sweetie at heart but loves her toxic side too and gives her the best dick until she stops playing around like THE REVERSAL 😭 he would be so sweet in his own way and so loyal and a fucking dog to her lowkey but covers it up with mean words and pussy slaps 🥺

Nerd!choso has a special place in my pants heart😵‍💫

Cw; nastyy smut, filming, infidelity(👀), choso is a little pervy but that’s why we love him🫶, talks of bodily fluids, reader is a lil mean

Enjoy<3

After the first time you fucked, he was extremely a little mad about you dating someone the next day (especially since it was his first time and you knew that) but quickly forgot about it once he had his head between your legs later that night, your mouth babbling nonsense when he sucked a little too hard.

He would purposefully leave hickies on your chest and thighs, smiling cheekily as he watched your shakey legs try to dress yourself. “Don’t look at me that way," you mumbled, your usual attitude gone and replaced with shyness under his intense gaze. Yeah, he didn’t have to worry.

Choso let's you get away with everything. the laughing, the pushing, and the taunts about how “small” he probably is from your friends (to which he nearly smirks when you stiffen slightly). He goes along with all of it and even watches you tongue-fuck your stupid boyfriend, who’s likely one hard hit to the head away from permanent brain damage. But he can’t stay mad; you look so cute trying to be tough. Eyebrows furrowed and a little hiss in your tone, knowing that the moment everyone disappears, you’re nothing but a sobbing mess, begging for him to touch you.

You’re in his room later, bent into a mating press, gasping for air as his cock clumsily batters your g-spot. “Yes—fuck, cho! "Your skin feels so hot, and your mind is so numb. Choso is nearly just as loud, already cumming two times, but watching you made it impossible to pull out. A sticky mess of both your fluids caused gooey strings to form whenever he moved away, the erotic sight making him pull out and reach for his phone. “W-what are you—"

You tried to sit up when the light of a camera flashed in your eyes, making you gasp before he tilted it down, focusing on your pussy. “Look at how wet she is.” He reaches out to touch, making your hips jerk in sensitivity. He plays with your wetness, making your cheeks hot, showing off the substance to the camera before placing his finger on your hole to tap at the new cream that seeped out.

You went to pull your legs closed. "E-enough, Choso." You sent him a glare, making him laugh before leaning down to kiss your cunt. He pointed the camera up to catch your shocked face, and you glanced at it again. “Why are you filming this? I never said—"

You squeal as he nips your clit, immediately shutting up but sending him a harsh glare. He kisses your thigh at your compliance. “Do you really not want me to?” He stared up at you, putting little pecks on your bud, making your breath hitch. You shook your head, ‘no’, “fuck, I don’t care, just make me cum,” you whine, pushing his head down. You jolt up, your eyes widening, when you feel the stinging slap on your pussy.

You’re about to speak when he does it again and again, each hit harder than the previous one, a yelp of surprise escaping you as he forces the light in your eyes again, making you squint. “You’re such a slut, it’s almost pathetic." His harsh words make you pout, mumbling about how mean he is. “I’m mean? Tell the camera why you came here.” You bite your lip, looking away, causing him to grab your chin and force you to look. “I’m not asking.”

It feels humiliating: “He couldn’t make me cum.” Your voice is quiet, but you could practically feel the cocky smile on Choso's face. “Who’s he?” You want to die, shaking your head. He rolled his eyes, tapping on your cheek to signal you to talk. With a sigh, you repeat yourself, “My boyfriend couldn’t make me cum.” Choso mockingly coos behind the camera, his thumb going to rub your swollen bud. “And how many times have you cum since getting here?”

He pans the camera back and forth between your needy pussy and pretty face, your sweaty skin glistening under the intense lighting making his cock impossibly harder. You look so delicate, just helplessly taking the pleasure he gives you because your body needs him so bad. Tears gather in your waterline whenever he applies more pressure, eyes zeroing in on the slick that starts to drip down your ass.

You can’t answer, your jaw hanging open when he quickened his pace. Your chest is heaving as you chanted out ‘please!’ hips thrusting up to meet him until you quickly cum with a shutter, choso slowing but not stopping as you relax again. You look up to the camera with a tired smile, holding up your hands to signal four, your eyes could barely remain open, head flopping back into the pillow. your eyes are getting heavy, nearly having you succumb to sleep when you feel his tip align with your cunt. “Flip over, slut.”

He forces you to film yourself as he pounds into you from behind, crying when he leans down to tug at your sore nipples. He forces your back to arch more, pathetically taking his cock into your swollen pussy. If you drop the camera, he’ll wait until you pick it up again. Or, he’ll snatch it from your hand to catch you desperately rutting against him, begging him to let you cum and “fuck you right." He does just that, leaving you with a fried brain and a puddle of your own drool, tears, and juices from how intensely he made you squirt.

Honestly, he’s so horny and has so much stamina he’ll just keep going until he’s shooting blanks, making sure to point the camera at the cum that leaks out of your puffy cunt, spreading your lips so it can closely get your gaping hole. Of course, after he’s had his fun, he’ll gently take care of you. You’re practically sleeping already, barely being able to speak as he nods along to your near incoherent praise, “S'good t’me. Luv you so much."He smiles, a giddy feeling in his tummy, as he holds a water bottle to your lips, which you gulp down quickly, not realizing how dehydrated you really were. He tucks you in, cuddling as you grip onto him tightly.

It’s not long after that you stop seeing the guy you were with, or any for that matter (at least, according to your friends' knowledge). When they ask what happened, you just shrug, making up some excuse, trying not to stutter as the vibrations in your panties speed up. Choso watches closely, smiling happily as you try to discreetly roll your hips<3

A/n: I need him so bad it’s getting to me. Also, send request bc writers block is a btch. Mwah💋

[warnersister]

“The silent treatment” Alfie Solomons x Reader

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader

You can’t stay mad and quiet at him forever, at least not if he can help it.

You looked Alfie in the eyes before you shook your head and turned around, walking away from your husband. “Where are you going?” You stayed silent, walking up the stairs to get yourself ready for bed. He creased his brows and followed closely behind you. “You can’t just stop an argument by not talking.” You didn’t even acknowledge him, just undoing the back to your dress and allowing it to fall to the floor; unclipping your hair from your updo and letting it fall.

Alfie felt offended: that was his job; you always let him take down your hair.

“Ziskeit, the silent treatment isn’t the way to go about this.” He told you, but you just wandered off to put your slip dress and slide into bed. Alfie was still stood in the doorway in disbelief, watching as you went on about your day as if you didn’t live with your husband of three years.

“Poppet-” click the lamp beside your bed turned off and Alfie’s jaw was on the floor, tutting at you. How dare you? He went about his own nightly routine, trying not to seem wounded by his lack of goodnight kisses and giggles as he’d tickle your neck with his beard. Eventually, he laid beside you and put an arm around your waist but it was shrugged off. “Look treacle I don’t care how fucked off you are with me, right. But I should be able to sleep comfortably with my wife.” He said, gruffly into your ear; moving again to replace his hand.

Again, you’d pushed it off. “Fucking unbelievable. Cant touch my own wife.” He’s grumbled, turning over and crossing his arms to try to force himself to sleep angrily when all he really wanted was your embrace on a cold night.

The next morning, he’d woken up to you doing your hair at the vanity he’d bought you for your last birthday. He’d walked over and pecked your cheek. “Morning ziskeit” he said and you said nothing, didn’t even look at him. He sighed exasperatedly. “Still doing that are we.”

He put his hands on the back of your chair and leant down to look at you in the mirror. “Real mature of you this, poppet.” He told you, taking the hair in the pony tail and wrapping it around his hand. “Knew I’d married a younger woman when we said our vows but didn’t realise I’d married a little girl.” He tugged the hair sharply. “Perhaps you need daddy to reeducate you, hmm?” You looked back at him in the mirror and shivered, and for a moment he’d thought he’d won. You just picked up the nice little expensive perfume bottle he’d bought you and sprayed it twice on your neck, getting him straight in the face. He just huffed and let you be. You couldn’t continue this forever.

He trudged down the stairs and went to make you both some breakfast, simultaneously tightening jars and putting cans higher than he knew you could reach, placing a plate in front of you when you’d arrived downstairs. But before you could even look at it, Alfie had wagged his finger at you. “Only girls who use their manners get fed.” He said and you narrowed your eyes. He took your chin in a hand and hummed at you as though speaking with a disobedient child. “Hmm? So? You going to ask politely, ziskeit?” You clenched your jaw and swatted the hand away once more, standing to go feed Cyril.

It went on similarly for the rest of the day, you trying to open things, to no avail - just for your husband to swoop in like some saviour and offer to do it “if you just say please” to which you’d throw the jar in the bin. Or when you’d stretch go grab something high up, even trying to climb on the counter, feeling hands on your waist “I’ll give you a hand, just have to ask, treacle.” And you’d jump down.

And it was like Groundhog Day as he found himself in the same position he was in yesterday. “Please loves, just need to hear your voice I’m sorry.” He’d pleaded, watching you undress ready for bed. “Right-” he’d grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, barely any garments covering your dignity. He gently dropped you on the bed and settled himself between your legs, ripping your undergarments off as he looked up at you “let’s see how long you can stay fucking quiet”

[tinycoffeeroom]

girlfriend of the enemy pt. 2 | charles leclerc

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

part 1 | part 3

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Charles never responded to your text, leaving you wondering just what he meant. Lying alone in bed, you run through every interaction you’d had with Charles, slowly piecing together piece by piece until a revelation knocks the air from your lungs. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2018. The first time you’d met Charles Leclerc. You’d heard stories from Max about the infamous man, an old rival and a new friend of your boyfriends. He’d finally be given the chance to move up to F1, joining Sauber alongside Ericsson. 

You’d wandered off from Max, leaving him with a soft kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of his hand as you went for a walk alongside the garages. Not looking where you were going, you walked straight into a sturdy body, a hand wrapping around your waist to prevent you from falling. 

Looking up in shock to apologise to the person you’d just slammed into, you couldn’t help but freeze at the eyes staring back at you. Molten gold surrounded by sea foam green. 

Still young and clean shaven, you couldn’t deny Charles Leclerc was objectively gorgeous. 

You apologised profusely, Charles brushing every sorry away as he made sure you were steady on your feet before slowly removing his hand from around your waist. He’d asked if you were a journalist or a technician for one of the teams, lips turned upwards in what you now recognise as a flirty smirk.

Before you had a chance to reply, Max appeared behind the two of you, lips pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he welcomed Charles to the paddock. Feeling his eyes roam over the two of you, green as fresh cut lime and just as bittersweet as they linger on Max’s hand that had replaced his on your waist, he responds jovially to Max. 

Max introduced you as a real estate agent and then his girlfriend, something you appreciated as he knew you didn’t like when people only saw you as an extension of him. 

You watched as Charles’ demeanour changed, slight enough that only someone who was paying close attention to him would notice. He greeted you politely, the smirk gone and replaced by a smile more suited to a first time meeting with his friend’s girlfriend. 

His race engineer soon called him away, the three of you exchanging goodbyes as Max directed you back to his garage. Unable to resist, you look back over your shoulder, only to find Charles already looking back. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

👤 maxverstappen1, danielricciardo Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 298,718 others

y/nstagram yeehaw ! 🤠 lovely to be down in texas with the bull boys 💙

maxverstappen1 even when i cant see your face, you’re still gorgeous x ↳ y/nstagram you like me so much its embarrassing xx ↳ maxverstappen1 y’all see how my girlfriend treats me?? ↳ fan yes humble him queen x ♥️ y/nstagram

redbullracing lovely to have you with us y/n! ♥️ y/nstagram

danielricciardo save a horse ride a cowboy ↳ y/nstagram ??!! ↳ danielricciardo I MEANT MAX!!! I MENAT  MAX!!! ↳ maxverstappen1 you fucking better had ↳ fan literal pr nightmare ↳ redbullracing tell us about it!

charles_leclerc yeehaw! 🤠 ↳ y/nstagram see he gets it! Welcome to the paddock charles! 🥳 no inchidents you hear me 🤨🫵 ↳ charles_leclerc i am never living that down… ↳ maxverstappen1 not if i can help it!

fan but can she ride? ↳ maxverstappen1 very well ↳ y/nstagram redbullracing can someone take away his social media privileges ↳ redbullracing we tried… he bit the social media intern  ↳ fan max was totally the child who bit ankles  ↳ maxverstappen1 defamation??? ↳ y/nstagram true though 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2020. It was the first gala of the year and you and Max were inseparable. His hand clasped your slightly clammy one, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand as a way to calm your nerves. He knew you like the back of his hand and was well aware of how much you hated these large galas, people clambering for the attention of the rising rookie, often disregarding you with a simple greeting before you faded into the shadow of future world champion Max Verstappen. 

You squeezed his hand once as you pulled yourself away from the group of people surrounding your boyfriend, slipping away to find the bar. As you plopped yourself down into the stool by the counter, you noticed you were not alone. A lone body sat beside you, hand tracing the rim of his whiskey glass. Looking up, you found yourself once again staring at Charles Leclerc. 

Over the 2 years since he’d joined the paddock, you’d only ever spoken in passing, normally accompanied by Max who kept the conversation flowing. Charles was nothing if not amicable, often engaging you in funny stories about their karting times, correcting any biased stories Max had told you. 

Those once bright eyes now seemed dull, worn down by the start of his 2020 season. You’d seen interviews of how proud he was to join Ferrari, wearing the red jersey with pride. But following incident after incident, whenever you passed him in the paddock, he looked more and more desolate. 

The two of you stared at each other before you glanced away, noting his empty glass. Calling over the bartender, you order a Mojito and another whiskey. Charles thanks you with a smile, tapping his fingers against the countertop as his glass is replaced with a full one. 

Not wanting to sit in silence, you ask how he’s feeling. The response is a shrug of his shoulders and a sip of his drink. Not good then. You raise your glass, tinking the edge of it against his before taking a quick drink. 

Roaming your eyes across the crowd just past Charles’ head, you take note of Daniel and Max lining up shots for the 2019 rookies. You laugh at Lando’s wide eyes and Max’s wink as he catches your eyes across the bar, catching Charles’ attention. He follows your line of sight, joining in with the laughter as George full body shudders at the first shot of what was probably tequila. 

The naivety of the 2019 rookies to trust your boyfriend and his best friend with alcohol breaks the last of the icy barrier between you and Charles, the two of you engaging in a genial conversation around the younger men. Charles recalls his own poor decision of letting Daniil and Daniel guide him to the bar during the 2018 gala, the story missing chunks as in his own words, his memory from that night was totally fucked. 

The conversation flows nicely between the two of you after that, topic after topic being nicely segued by the drinks repeatedly replaced in front of you. You learnt about his family, childhood pets, his racing dreams. In return you told him about your family, how you and Max met, and your blossoming career. 

Sebastian soon approaches the two of you, slinging an arm around yours and Charles’ shoulders. He ruffles the younger man's hair, nudging you as Charles grumbles playfully, hand coming up to fix the chestnut mess. He mentions a new sponsor that’s here, resting a hand on his chest jokingly as he apologises for pulling Charles away from your riveting conversation. You wave him off, waving goodbye to the two as they head off to hopefully secure more money for Ferrari. 

Watching them go, you see Charles turn back, smile soft and warm as he sends one last wave your way. Someone replaces his spot next to you, hand reaching out to interlink with yours. The feel of familiar calluses under your palm brings you back to your boyfriend who was looking to see what had grabbed your attention. 

An offhand comment about how he was sorry for being gone so long but he saw Seb at the bar and knew he would take care of you. The room was dark enough that you could understand how he could mistake the back of Charles for Sebastian, but for some reason you didn’t understand, you couldn’t bring yourself to correct the man. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

👤 maxverstappen1 Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 301,819 others

y/nstagram such a good time at the gala with my gorgeous boy 💙

maxverstappen1 gorgeous x ↳ y/nstagram 😘😘 xx ↳ redbullracing our it couple 💙 ↳ alex_albon me and lily are crying in the corner thanks ↳ y/nstagram the it couple is me and lily lbr xx ↳ lilymhe i’m in love with you  ↳ alex_albon i should have kept my mouth shut 

sebastianvettel Beautiful as always y/n x ↳ y/nstagram thank you seb! Was good seeing you last night x

fan she’s everything and he’s just… there 

fan no cheesy comment from max? 👀 ↳ fan he literally called her gorgeous shut up 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2021. Abu Dhabi. The year Max made history and ended Lewis’ world champion streak. It had been a difficult year for the two of you. Cancelled dates and a flat bought in Milton Keynes, sacrifices in your relationship made for this very moment. You could barely remember half of the race, too busy chewing the acrylic off your nails in stress. The engineers crowded him, hauling him onto their shoulders as champagne covered the entire garage. You’d barely been able to reach out a hand to pat his leg before he was carried off to the podium. 

Standing below, tears spilled down your cheeks at the sight. Your boyfriend, in his usual spot at the top of the podium, hands clasped eagerly around the World Championship trophy. The Red Bull team around you patted your shoulders comfortingly, some of them having to wipe away their own tears. He looks past the crowd, eyes passing yours briefly without much recognition. You blamed it on the adrenaline, knowing his mind was a hazy mess as the reality of what had happened dawned on him. 

Following the podium, he’d been whisked away by his team, press conference and the media paddock waiting eagerly to meet the new champion. You sat patiently in hospitality, welcoming warm wishes from whoever passed you. Alex had come bundling over, throwing his arms around you in congratulations. Laughing loudly as he squeezed you tighter, you hugged the reserve driver close to you. 

The wait was killing you, time dragging slower than ever. You decided to walk along to the media paddock to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend. There he stood, in all his glory. Journalists threw question after question at him, microphone cords stretched to their limit as they all vied for his attention. He’d given his thanks, to the team, to his parents, to Christian himself. No mention of you. Again, you put it down to adrenaline, but something settled heavily in the base of your stomach. 

You began to worry that you hadn’t done enough, despite going along with everything he had thrown your way this year. Agreeing to him moving to Milton Keynes for the year, flying across to him when you had some leave from work. The missed dates, declining phone calls and texts from his side. You never failed to miss a race, to congratulate him after every win and support him through every bad moment. 

Brushing the sinking feeling off, you look across at the other drivers being interviewed. Most of the reporters were by your boyfriend's side, but some stragglers took this opportunity to catch the others as they made their way through the paddock. 

You’re startled as your eyes lock onto a pair staring back at you. Charles was mid interview, nodding along to whatever the journalist was saying. You smiled at him, mouthing your congratulations on getting into the points. He returned the smile, mouth hung lopsided as he responded to the question he was just asked. 

A Red Bull employee calls out for you, letting you know Max was leaving. You nodded towards the Monageqsue as a goodbye, turning to follow the employee. Your back burned at the feeling of emerald eyes following you. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

👤 maxverstappen1 Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 509,174 others

y/nstagram my love, my light, my champion… forever proud of you for all you have and will continue to achieve. Drink it in, my dear, this is all for you ❤️

fan need someone to love me the way y/n loves max

fan the maxcheco hug 🥺

fan y/n supporting max is everything to me, true love fr

fan did no one else catch how he didn’t even hug her or anything? Like??? If i was him, she’d be the first person i go to ↳ fan i mean… i think they’re only together for PR rn … he’s also moved to milton keynes whilst she’s still in monaco, kinda dodgy ↳ fan he probably moved for work, also lets not speculate on peoples relationships pls and thx xx

fan no max comment? In the trenches rn  ↳ fan he liked though! ↳ fan bare minimum  ↳ fan dude he just won his first world championship he’s probably busy

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2022. The beginning of the end for you and Max. You suppose, looking back, the end had been looming long before then. Gone was the sweet, kind Max you’d fallen for, instead replaced by a beast. Win after win, pole after pole, championship after championship. His move to Milton Keynes became permanent, whilst you chose to stay in Monaco for your job. You still had Jimmy and Sassy to keep you company, a reminder of when life had been good. 

You’d bought the two bengals after you’d officially moved into Max’s flat. Sassy had been a daddy’s girl but Jimmy was yours through and through. Following you everywhere you go, meowing constantly if he was ever forced to leave your side. 

He was sitting beside you, one paw stretched out and resting against your leg when a text from Max came through. You already knew what it was going to say. Some excuse as to why he couldn’t make it back to Monaco between races. You sighed, reaching out to run your hand down the soft fur on Jimmy’s back. He purrs appreciatively, kneading gently against your skin. 

Red Bull had sent you the tickets for the next Grand Prix and to be honest, you felt like skipping it altogether. It was midway through the season, and despite attending every race, it was like you didn’t even exist to Max. 

Argument after argument continued, you tried to get across how horrible Max made you feel when he ignored you, him rebutting by saying you weren’t being supportive enough of him. Nights spent thousands of miles apart, phones silent on bedside tables and muffled cries from your end filling the solemn night. 

You didn’t bother to reply to his latest excuse, instead grabbing your keys and heading out the front door, dropping a small kiss to Jimmy and Sassy’s heads. They had ran out of food, and without even having to look in your cabinets, you knew you had to. 

The supermarket was a mere 10 minutes from your flat, the air warm and calm as you trailed down the pavement. The kind lady who ran the cafe on the corner greeted you warmly, pressing 2 kisses to your cheeks. You promise to come see her tomorrow, knowing she would have a latte and croissant waiting for you on your arrival. 

Two aisles down in the supermarket and as you reach for the cereal on the top shelf, a hand pops out the corner of your eye and grabs a box too. You hear it drop into your cart, looking up to a now familiar face. 

Charles smiles back at you gently, shopping basket in hand. The two of you didn’t speak, instead choosing to walk in comfortable silence around the rest of the store. Charles grabbed the oat milk you like, and you grabbed the cereal bars you saw him often chomping down on between qualifiers. 

At the tills, he loads your shopping onto the belt for you, adding the three items he had got for himself behind. As you loaded the last few bits into the large shopping bags you’d brought along with you, the card reader behind you beeps. As you look behind, you see Charles pick up the receipt and chuck his three items into the tote bag over his shoulder. 

You tried to argue that you could pay for yourself whilst thanking him at the same time, but Charles simply shrugged, walking out of the supermarket. You follow behind, loading the bags onto your arms as you bump the cart back into its spot with your hip. Charles watches you, a smirk on his face as you struggle to distribute the bags evenly enough to allow you to walk home. 

Chuckling, he grabbed two of the bags, moving along to his car. You followed sheepishly, thanking him for the ride home as he loads the bags into the minimal space in the boot. Gratitude shrugged off once again, he held the door open for you to slide in.

He offered to bring the shopping up for you when you reached your apartment building but you gratefully declined, not wanting to take up any more of his time. Telling you to say hi to Jimmy and Sassy, he watched you walk into the front door, leaving only once he saw you enter the elevators. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt and 498,018 others

y/nstagram just a mum and her two (fur) babies 🧡🐱

fan !!!!! jimmy and sassy sighting!!!!!

fan which is which??? ↳ y/nstagram jimmy in the second pic and sassy in the third!! <3 ↳ fan they’re so cute 😭

francisca.c.gomes jimmy is SLUMPED ↳ y/nstagram hasn’t left my side all day, it’s tiring work being a mummys boy 😋

charles_leclerc did you tell them i said hi????? ↳ y/nstagram yes charles, i told them you said hi 🙄 ↳ charles_leclerc and what did they say? ↳ y/nstagram this is so stupid ↳ y/nstagram meow meow, meow meow meow, meowwwww - Jimmy and Sassy 🐱🐱 ↳ charles_leclerc my favourite kitties!!! I love you too 💖 ↳ fan charles is such a silly lil guy

fan y/n pls tell us what you ask for at the hairdressers!!! ↳ y/nstagram at the moment its a root touch up and occasional high and low lights, but when sometimes i throw in a chunky root ❤️ ↳ fan an ANGEL!!!!

fan not even a max like… on pics of his own CATS …. I wanna cry ↳ fan ngl i think you’re onto something there. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2023. The year you had decided Max and well and truly fallen out of love with you. The two of you couldn’t go two minutes without an argument, hurtful words bouncing off the four walls of what used to be a happy home. 

Two championships under his belt, and he was well on his way to a third. It wasn’t that he had changed entirely, the sweet Max you once knew was still there, he just seemed to hide away whenever the two of you were alone. 

He would still dote on Jimmy and Sassy, would approach the lady who owns the cafe with a kind smile and warm words, would run off to padel to be with his friends, often posting instagram stories of him smiling and laughing with the same people he fought with week on and week off on the track. 

He’d finally decided to grace you with his presence, moving back to Monaco for a week between races as he was pretty much guaranteed the championship as long as he placed above 4th in the next 2 races, and knowing him, he would. 

You had thought this would be a chance to connect, a way to work through your issues and bring back the man you know and love. However, he had walked through the front door, greeted the fussing cats and gone straight through to the bedroom. You stood in the kitchen, a homemade meal still simmering away on the stove. 

The sound of the shower pulled you from your spiralling thoughts, plating up the meal so it was ready for Max when he had finished. You’d nipped out that morning, especially to buy the ingredients for his favourite meal, sweating away in the kitchen as the private jet he owned flew from Milton Keynes to your home. 

Max left the bathroom, walking into the kitchen. He was fully dressed once again, cologne pungent from when you stood nearly 10 feet away. He barely glanced over the meal, grabbing his keys and throwing a quick see you later over his shoulder. 

As soon as the door shut, the dam inside you burst. Tears flowed uncontrollably down your cheeks, sobs choked and tore their way out of your throat, the sound primal and steeped in sorrow. Crouching down, you wrapped your arms around your bent knees, an almost upright fetal position. Jimmy and Sassy crowded you, confused purrs rumbling deep in their throats as they tried to nudge your head away from the home it had found between your knees. 

You had no idea how long you’d stayed there, body rocking back and forth ever so slightly as a way to self soothe. By the time you lifted your head, the sky was a mottled mix of reds and oranges. You moved on auto pilot, scraping the now cold dinner into tupperware, slotting them into the fridge and grabbing the bottle of white wine you’d put in there earlier to chill. 

A large glass sat beside you on the side table, body warm and safe under the blanket you had dragged from the back of the sofa. Scrolling through Twitter, you stopped for a moment as an F1 gossip page graced your screen. You’d normally swipe right past them, knowing they were onto the burning embers of yours and Max’s relationship, making up shocking titles to draw fans attention. This time, between the two of you, only Max was the headline.

You didn’t know what to think. Despite the growing tensions ontrack, the two men had always been friendly outside of the race cars. The tweet had gathered plenty of attention, already having nine thousand reposts and quote tweets. You pulled up your texts, hesitating as you hovered over Max’s name. He’d barely even glanced your way after 2 months apart, why should you worry about him now? 

Pulling up the old text thread with Charles, you take a moment to try and think about what to say. Would he think you were trying to spy for Max? Or would he think you were just digging around for the drama? Mind wandering, you managed to type out the bare bones of a text before your phone chimed, Charles beating you to it.  

You didn’t know why Charles was apologising. It wasn’t his fault your boyfriend fell out of love. 

Digesting his message, you willed yourself to cry, to scream, to cuss Max out to the quiet walls of your home. But nothing came. Numb to the feeling and drained from your previous breakdown, you stared at the blank wall ahead. You knew you should leave Max, all you were doing was hurting yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that would leave you all alone. 

Moving from the sofa to the door, you turned the deadbolt, sending Max a text to let him know to find somewhere else to stay that night. You were sure Lando or someone else would put him up. 

Falling into bed, you caught yourself hoping he’d find solace in the arms of another girl so you could use the excuse as a reason to end the horrible situation. Scolding your cruel mind, you turned your phone off and placed it face down on the bedside table, calling up the two cats who settled down either side of you. 

The ache in your chest kept you awake for a while, soon soothed as you remembered how Charles had defended you. How fucked up was it that the best friend of your boyfriend was the one who brought the first genuine smile in months to your face, his actions a calming balm across the festering cracks scattered across your heart. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by carmenmmundt, francisca.c.gomes and 10 others

y/npriv don't know, don't care

carmenmmundt you ok babe? ↳ y/npriv men... ↳ carmenmmundt ah you saw the tweet ↳ y/npriv yep... i'm chilling though, jim and sass are good company ↳ carmenmmundt want one more? ↳ y/npriv bring pastries pls and thank u x

francisca.c.gomes pierre chewed *** out in french after charles left, you should have seen his stupid face ↳ y/npriv tell pierre i said cheers x ↳ francisca.c.gomes he said thank you for giving a reason to shout at "fat head"

lilymhe can i come to the hangout 🥺 ↳ y/npriv ofc babygirl, the more the merrier x ↳ lilyzneimer i'm coming too then!!!! ↳ y/npriv ofc my lil sweetiepie 🩷

flavy.barla unbothered. moisturised. in my lane. focused. ↳ y/npriv don't think i didnt notice you omitting parts of the meme flavs ↳ flavy.barla well i'm not a liar... also i'll be there in 2 hours, este's driving me up ↳ y/npriv ugh a king x

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Dragging yourself back to the present, you pull in a shaky breath. Charles liked you. Charles had always liked you. And somewhere along the line, you’d ended up liking him too.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

a/n: part 2 is here! this will most definitely end up being a 2 parter, we're already at like 5k words 😭 let me know if you want to be added / removed from the taglist 🩷

taglist: @veryicyandspicey @oliviarodrigostan13 @fyegyall @inevesgf @brakingboundaries @boywondrgrayson @pand-de-pandora-blog @emily-b @barcelonaloverf1life @entr4p3 @asparklysoul @elia-the-bibliophile @ruebennett89 @sheslikeacurse @angywritesstuff @honethatty12 @hs-is-loml @krishasworld @velentine @weekendlusting @vintagefucksstuff @yourfreezing-hands @sinofwriting @cmleitora @ladyoflynx @zvrjkb @anuksunamon @sarahedwards16 @janeh22 @awritingtree @reguluscrystals

[onmykneesformatt]

vanilla - c.s.

requested: yes!!

synopsis: after a lengthy relationship, chris decides to try and surprise you on your 7 month anniversary. it doesn’t go how he planned, and he feels bad.

warnings: SMUT OH MY FUCK. just very aggressive (no major abuse or violence), degrading, choking, hair-pulling, overstimulation, use of safe word, aftercare, angst (happy ending tho!!), i don’t think anything else but lmk!!

a/n: i think it’s about time i write smth about chris and feed y’all. so, eat up!! (also i tried to put a picture and it literally wouldn’t let me😭)

you and chris never really thought about kinks or anything like that. you had talked about it, but the furthest you two ever went was just filming it once or twice. even then, it was still very vanilla. it was soft, enjoyable, and not very rough.

chris wanted to change that.

“so, wait. are we going somewhere?”

“we can, but that’s not the surprise.”

chris kind of smirked, knowing that his surprise was not something you expected.

“can you just tell me? it almost dark out and we’be barely done anything all day except for you making me a nice breakfast. which, i did appreciate by the way.”

“you’re welcome, and no. i’m not telling you.”

he tapped his fingertips together and chuckled lightly. he liked surprising you. he’d done it multiple times before. a bouquet on your door step, a new pair of expensive heels, even flying home early from boston and not telling you. it was his thing.

and tonight was a surprise.

-

at 9:30 pm, you started to get ready for bed. you almost did it in protest for how you and chris barely did anything today.

“oooh, what’s this? toner? replace the t with a b.”

he giggled. how dare he? after not giving you a major day like he does every other anniversary?

you kept a straight face, not breaking eye contact with your face in the mirror as you kept applying serums and creams.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, chris.”

he knew that whenver you ended a sentence with his name, you were mad.

“look, how about i meet you in the bedroom in five minutes, and make it up to you?”

you let a little smile show, remembering that your surprise to him was a peachy-orange lingerie set that hugged you in all the right places and showed all the right skin.

“fine.”

-

it started slow and sweet, like always.

but it slowly turned into more.

he went from having you on your back with him lightly laying on you to flipping you onto all fours and ripping the new lingerie set off— literally.

“chris-“

“shut up and take it. i know you can, slut.”

it felt good, the way he was pounding into you.

what didn’t feel good was him calling you the one word you didn’t like. after he started pulling your hair, it all felt real.

were you really just some toy he used? was this his breaking point where he realized he didn’t actually like or respect you like he pretended?

“chris, i don’t-“

he pushed your face into the pillow, tightening his grip on your hair.

“i said shut the fuck up. god, you really are just some slut who thinks she can do anything she wants.”

tears started welling in your eyes. they only strengthened when he started swatting your ass and digging his free hand into your back.

it hurt. like, actually hurt. but he wouldn’t listen.

he was never like this. chris? be aggressive? especially in such a vulnerable moment? never. until now.

after almost suffocating with your face in the pillow for what felt like hours, you tried to shift your face over just enough to be able to breathe. it was hard, with his grip on your hair pushing your head down into it.

eventually, you were able to properly breathe. you started breathing heavier and heavier. not from pleasure, but from overstimulation. from pain.

“i- i can’t! chris!”

he could barely hear you over his grunts and the sounds of skin slapping loudly.

“cant.. can’t what? slut can’t use her words now?”

you tried, but he was causing you so much pain that the tears were taking over. so much so, that you just broke.

what he thought were breaths and tears of pleasure started to settle in, and he finally realized. your pillow and face wet with a taste of salt, and your heart pounding so bad you started shaking.

he slowed down, moving your messy, wet hair out of your face.

“vanilla! vanilla!”

your safe word. you never needed it before, but you guys thought of it after having sex the first or second time. he always wanted you to know you were in control of what was happening too. in a sort of inside joke/mockery, he made it “vanilla”.

“hey- hey.”

he took a second to gather himself and pull out, sitting next to you on the bed. your body fell limp on the sheets.

“what’s wrong-“

“no!”

he tried to rub your shoulder, but your yelling frightened him. it should’ve. the way he caused you the pain he did was horrible.

“hey-“

“just- stop! what-“

your crying intensified, leaving him with a concerned look.

“what made you think that was okay?!”

you tried to stand, stabling yourself with a hand on the bed and the other holding a throw blanket to cover your body.

“what do you mean-“

“what do i mean? chris- you just.. started going crazy! it felt good at first, but you pulled my hair, you dug your nails into my back! you- you called me a slut!”

“i thought-“

“no you didn’t! you didn’t think at all!”

it finally hit him.

that word.

the one word he promised to never use.

“baby- i didn’t mean any of it!”

“then why’d you do it!”

tears turning into anger at his stupidity slowly dried up.

“i thought it would be a nice surprise for our anniversary! but, i’m sorry. i forgot about that word.”

that word was used against you everyday in highschool, ever since you gave some kid a handjob at the park. anytime you wore something even slightly revealing. it opened a floodgate for name-calling.

the tears started up again once silence filled the bedroom.

again, chris was never like this. you always thought he would provide the comfort you so desperately needed in your life. however, it seemed like he thought otherwise.

chris stood up, walked around the bed, and engulfed you in his arms. after realizing that he truly didn’t mean it (doesn’t make it okay, but it’s good he realized he was in the wrong), you hugged him back.

“how about we clean up. can i help you with that?”

you sniffled while stepping back from him. you dropped the blanket and wiped your eyes.

“yeah.”

you spoke softly, still trying to catch light breaths.

he grabbed your hand, leading you the bathroom.

he started the shower, grabbing your coconut body wash out of the bathroom closet along with a soft, white towel.

after getting you into the perfectly-warm shower, he started to clean you up. he didn’t let you move a muscle. he made sure you were fully clean and taken care of before even thinking about himself. he grazed your body with the loofah, making sure every inch was perfectly covered.

“i really am sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to take it that far. i think i just got too excited. i’ll never do it again, i can promise you that.”

“a warning would’ve been nice. i get why you did it. throw in a little variety, or whatever. but that word really set me off.”

“i know, i know.”

he kissed the back of your damp head, making sure you knew he meant his sorrow.

“i forgot. but, no excuse. how about now i dry you off and get you into some comfy clothes, hm?”

his tone was low but sweet. your heart stopped racing, your breath caught up, and your mind was at ease.

“okay.”

after he dried you off, still not letting you do it yourself, he grabbed your hand to lead back into the bedroom. while you were sat patiently on the edge of the bed, he rummaged through drawers and shelves looking for your favorite sleep shirt and a pair of under wear with comfortable shorts.

“this good?”

“yes. thank you.”

“stand up, please.”

you dropped your towel, letting him glide the extra large graphic tee over your head. you lifted each leg as he slid the underwear up, then doing the same with the loose shorts.

“get comfy in bed, i got some treats for you earlier.”

“really? thank you, chris.”

“anything for my girl. she deserves nothing but the best, so i try all for her.”

he kissed your forehead before you slid into the bed, pulling the thick comforter over your body and turning on your favorite show.

-

you fell asleep in eachothers arms, but not until he gave you a lengthy apology.

you know he didn’t mean it, but he needed you to remember he wouldn’t do it again.

his heartbeat under your head lulled you into a deep slumber. a soft, orange light coming from the lamp in the corner of the bedroom mixed with the tv still playing your favorite show made just enough light for you to not have any other worries that night. an open bag of the tastiest chocolate on the nightstand next to two open soda cans had filled your stomach and your heart. the soft laugh tracks in the background and fan lightly blowing on you gave you the comfort you needed.

the biggest comfort was chris’ concern.

he loves you.

you love him.

that’s all you need.

-

AHHHH ITS DONEEEEEEE!!!!! i pray that this is as good as y’all are expecting 😭😭 but seriously though, i thank y’all for the support. i’m at 300 followers already (WHAT THE FUCK) and i couldn’t have done it without you guys. love y’all!! mwah!!💋❣️🌺

taglist: @sleepysturniolo @suyqa @jessie-essie @sturnsobsessed

sorry if i missed anyone that wanted to be tagged!!

[jinxthequeergirl]

what would have happened if instead of stanley bill had gotten into reader's head? and in the end it was reader who got their memory erased. i just want to see stan's reaction, cuz reader is his partner. how he will try to do something or on the contrary, resign himself?

writing by translation sorry for mistakes

I See you In the Back of my mind

Stanley pines x fiance! reader

Thank you anon I love you 🙏😚

Warning:

~~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~~~

You knew what he was doing. You knew right away what was happening when Bill brought you and the twins back to the Pines brothers still locked in their cage. You'd spent half your life with Stanley to recognize him even in his twins' clothes.

You locked eyes with them shaking your head, warning him not to do what you thought he was about to do, begging him with your look.

"Alright,times up! I've got the kids and your little wife to be! y/n! I think I'm gonna kill one of them!" You struggled in Bills grip watching the kids hopelessly in his other hand. "Enie meni...minie...YOU!-"

"Wait!"

Everything froze for a moment.

"I surrender!" You shook your head before Bill dropped you.

"Good choice!" The air was knocked out of you on impact with the floor. "Don't do it!" You yelled. Bill snapped his fingers, and a zipper replaced your mouth.

"I accept under one condition, you let my brother y/n and the kids go."

"It's a Deal.

Bill stuck out his hand, a bright blue flame engulfing it. Stanley stared at it, glancing back at his family behind him.

"Grunkle Ford, don't trust him!" Dipper yelled.

You stood to your feet, fighting the zipper on your mouth, finally freeing it.

"Stop! Take me instead of st-Ford!" You said running up to stans side.

"What are you doing?" You ignored him. "I know everything he does, I studied thought journals to reopen the portal, I might even know MORE than him, plus.. you can keep my body as a physical form. it's younger than Fords!." He snapped again, the zipper disappearing from your mouth.

"Y/n! Are you crazy!?"

"Y/n no, you can't do this!" Both brothers were yelling at you now. Stan held your hand tightly, giving you the same look you gave him only moments before. You could hear Bill hum while he thought.

"Alright y/n! You make a good point it's a deal then!"

"Same rules apply the Pines family leaves here untouched!" You added.

Bill rolled his eyes.

"Sure, sure."

You turned quickly and hugged stan,slipping something in his pocket. "Do what you have too, take care of the kids. I love you!" Stan stared at you in shock, unable to speak before you turned away and locked hands with Bill.

The Pines watched you fall into a deep sleep in front of them. "She looks peacful." Mable commented. Voicing exactly what stan was thinking in that moment. He felt in his pocket for what you had slipped inside pulling out your engagement ring.

Ford sighed, deeply pulling out the memory gun.

"Wait, we can't...." stan Said stepping in front of you, blocking for your ring firmly in his grasp.

"Stanley, we don't have any other choice...:

"It should have been me... cant...I can't lose her! Before the kids, she was the only family I had I...Shes everything to me." He said, falling to his knees in front of you helplessly hanging his head.

"Stanley...step aside."

You would have tidied the place up if you knew you were having guests. The only thing on your mind when Bill entered was memories of Stan and the kids.

"What do you see in that guy?" Bill asked, finding you watching your last date with stan. You wondered if that really was the last ever time you'd be with him.

"He makes me laugh." You chuckled, you got up wiping the memory completely from your mind, now only standing in complete nothingness. You thought it would have happened right away, but you figured Stanley was putting up a fight about it.

That was another reason you liked him.

Then you felt it.

"I'm really sorry to do this to you cipher, but you messed with the people I love."

Blue flames engulfed your mind before the blink of an eye.

"You tricked me!" He made a move like he was trying to leave. Instead, you created a cage around him. "Your in MY head I still have some control of you right now." You said as he pulled at the bars.

"Is all of this worth it! All for the Pines family? For STANLEY? "

"If not them, who?"

You sat down in front of his cage and watched the flames get higher. "I can offer you anything! Let me out, fame, money riches! I'll let you and stanley live out the happily married life you've always wanted!Anything, please!"

"You're begging for your life!?" You laughed at him.

That was really the last thing you remembered laughing in Bill's face before it all went away.

It all ended so suddenly. In a massive wave, it was over. Stanley wasn't really sure what else he was expecting to happen when it ended. But he didn't really have time to think about that now.

"She did it." Ford said somewhere from behind him as he made his way to you. "Y/n!" You blinked at him in confusion before he scooped you up in the tightest hug he could muster lifting you from the ground.

"Oh! Ah ow!"

"You did it! You saved us!" He said, placing you down and cupping your cheeks. He was so caught up in the moment that he forgot what you just sacrificed.

You stared at him in confusion. "Uh, sorry, Mr." You said shaking him off. "I'm not really sure who you are or what you are talking about..."

"No...y/n c'mon, it's me! It's stan.."

"Stanley... she can't remember..." Ford said, placing a hand on his shoulder. They watched as the kids tried to talk to you, sharing their own memories with you, trying to get you to remember them.

Everyone decided to go back home and rest a moment before trying any further. Maybe the shack would help. You let stan hold your hand mainly to help guide you through the woods.

"You all live like this?" You asked partly, joking as he helped you step over the ruble and debris of the shack. "You live like this too." Stan corrected in a similar joking manner.

"Huh." Stan guided you to what you assumed to be the family room at one point and let you flop into a big yellow seat.

"This feels nice." You sighed, shutting your eyes. You weren't sure why, but your body ached, your head throbbed, and it felt like the first time you'd gotten off your feet in days.

The room fell silent. You opened one eye to see everyone staring at you and each other silently debating on what to do.

"I know!" Mable shouted, running through the house before returning with a book in hand. "My scrapbook! This has to help her remember!" Mable jumped up onto the seat, squishing herself between you and the arm rest. "Look! This is the first time we met! The day we came to gravity falls!"

"What about that romantic yet almost dangerous date we planned for you and stan?" Dipper asked, flipping through the pages.

You stared at the pages, photos with you in them, stories to go with it. But none of it was clicking.

"LOOK! the wedding invites you, let me decorate!" Mable said, shoving one very glittery piece of pink paper into your hand.

"Wedding?" The paper read both yours and stans name the line where a date should have been remained empty.

"If only your grunkle could commit to a date, these would be beautiful mable." You joked, rolling your eyes.

Everyone shared a look. "And where is my ring!?"

"She's staring to remember!" Stan jumped to find the ring once again, digging it out from his pocket and slipping it into place on your finger. You felt something light up inside you when he did. You placed a hand on his cheek and smiled before planting a reasuring kiss on the top of his head, followed by you squishing his fez down on him with a laugh.

It took the rest of the night, and even a couple of days, but eventually you everything fell back into place. And eventually you and stan where passing out wedding invites together to the towns folk of gravity falls during the twins birthday party.

[mononijikayu]

i have love and dreams too — gojo satoru.

Yuji looked down at his hands, feeling a strange sense of guilt. “Do you really think… you can never have that life you want?” Satoru didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the wind ruffle his silver hair. For a moment, he was just Satoru—not the strongest, not the invincible sorcerer, but a man burdened by the life he had to lead. “I don’t know, Yuji……” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But I like to dream that maybe, someday… we could all disappear. And live. Just live.  Just me, my wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… away from everything. Living in peace.”

WARNING/S: spoilers for chapter 271 of jjk (spoilers at your behest), domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 6.8k words.

NOTE: i rush wrote this at uni, at the restaurant i was at and then a car on the way back and forth from uni and home. i just started crying profusely because i hated how jjk ended. and i hated that panel with satoru and yuji because i just kept crying. i cant believe this is the end, but i cant believe even more that this is what satoru had to deal with. this is the most rushed end and the saddest end.

i wish gege had decided to take a break and decided to take his time. but alas this is not my story. still, id like to make more for satoru. ones where he'd be so loved. genmei (you) and satoru will always be happy in whatever life you have, that i write. for bitter or for worse. even in death. smiling is all there will be. even with tears.

anyway, i hope you bear with me, for i am very emotional. thank you for understanding this situation. i love you all, i'll see you soon <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

GOJO SATORU IS EXHAUSTED. But he thinks that there is no use to sleep. He knows he cannot. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, the light too dim to chase away the shadows that lingered in every corner, just like the uncertainty that hung between you and Satoru.

He sat across from you on the edge of the bed, his usual carefree demeanor gone, replaced by a solemn stillness that felt out of place on him. His eyes, usually so vibrant and mischievous, were tired tonight, the weight of tomorrow pulling down his every breath.

"You don’t have to do this." Your voice came out in a whisper, the words heavy with a desperation you’d been trying to suppress.

Satoru didn’t answer right away. His gaze was locked on the floor, and for a moment, you wondered if he was even listening. But then he looked up, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours, and there was something in them you rarely saw—fear.

"It’s not like I have a choice," he murmured, his voice strained. "You know that."

You did. And that made it worse. He was the strongest, after all. If anyone had to stand against Sukuna, it was him. But the weight of those expectations had never felt heavier than it did now, with the reality of the fight looming closer with every passing second.

"I hate this, Satoru." you confessed, your voice trembling. "I hate that it always comes down to you, that you’re the one who has to bear this."

Satoru smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He stood and crossed the small space between you, kneeling in front of you, his hands gently resting on your knees. His touch was warm, grounding, but it did nothing to quell the storm raging inside you.

"Hey." he said softly, lifting your chin so you’d look at him. "I know it’s not fair. But it’s what I have to do."

You shook your head, biting back the tears that threatened to spill. "But what if—" The words caught in your throat, the question too painful to finish.

Satoru’s thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. "Don’t think about that," he whispered, his voice as soft as the night air outside. "Not tonight."

"But how can I not?" you shot back, your frustration breaking through. "How can I pretend that everything will be fine when I know you’re going to face him? When I know there’s a chance that—"

He silenced you with a kiss, his lips gentle but firm, grounding you in the present, in this moment. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"I’ll come back to you," he promised, but even he couldn’t hide the uncertainty in his voice. “To you and Satoshi. And… I’ll bring Megumi and Tsumiki back. We’ll be a family again, like we used to be.”

It was the way he said it—so sure, so certain—that made it all the more unbearable. As if speaking it aloud would somehow make it true, would make the universe bend to his will the same way he bent the forces of space and time. But you knew better now, didn’t you? You’ve always known. Satoru Gojo, the man who was too powerful to fail, too stubborn to admit defeat, could never stop lying—not to you, not to himself. He believed in his own invincibility, as if his strength alone could rewrite the world.

But the world doesn’t work that way.

And you think then, that your husband has always been a liar.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve heard those words, promises wrapped in silk and carelessness, the way they tumbled off his tongue so casually. It was as though the act of saying it was enough for him, as though the truth could be commanded with just his voice. And maybe for a long time, it was.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the man who could bend the world to his whims and yet still—he was human. And humans lie. Sometimes because they have to, sometimes because the lie feels better than the truth.

But tonight, in the quiet hours before dawn, the weight of his words pressed down harder than ever. We’ll be a family again, like we used to be. You wanted to scream at him, to shake him, to make him stop speaking as if the world was something he could fix with his bare hands. Megumi was gone, taken by darkness, by fate, and Tsumiki…Tsumiki was as good as lost to you both. Even if Satoru came back, even if he somehow survived this fight with Sukuna, the cracks in your family couldn’t simply be patched over like they had never existed.

You bit your lip, tasting the bitterness of unshed tears.

"You always say that," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft hum of the night. "But you don’t know this time, do you?"

His gaze faltered, the usual gleam in his eyes dimming for a fraction of a second. It was a flicker of something too vulnerable, too raw—something he rarely let anyone see. It was the truth that lingered behind his endless bravado, the truth that no amount of strength could hide: he didn’t know if he could win this time.

And you had known it all along.

Satoru had always come back to you. Bruised, battered, bleeding—but alive. He would stumble through the door with that infuriating grin, wipe the blood off his face with the back of his hand, and act like nothing had ever been in doubt. But this time was different. This wasn’t just another battle against curses or enemies who fell beneath his overwhelming strength. This was Sukuna.

"I’ll bring Megumi and Tsumiki back," he had said, as if they were just lost children in the woods, waiting for him to lead them home. But Megumi had slipped beyond reach, swallowed by the very darkness Satoru had spent his life fighting. How could he promise to bring him back when he could barely keep the pieces of himself together?

"You can’t save everyone, Satoru," you whispered, your heart breaking as you said it aloud, the truth as bitter as the lie was sweet. "Not even with all your power."

His hand tightened around yours, his grip almost too strong, as if holding onto you could somehow anchor him to the world, to the promise he so desperately wanted to believe. "I have to try," he murmured, his voice rough, as if the words themselves were painful to speak. "For you. For Satoshi. For them."

Satoshi. Your son. His name hung in the air like a thread between you, a fragile tether that held what little remained of your family together. You could see it in Satoru’s eyes—the fear of leaving his child without a father, the guilt of not being able to protect him from the storm that loomed over your lives. But you also saw the lie there, the same lie he told every time he went to war. The lie that he would come back unscathed, that he could shield all of you from the world’s cruelty just by being who he was.

But he couldn’t. Not this time.

"Satoru," you whispered, your voice breaking. "You don’t have to be everything for us. You don’t have to be invincible."

His eyes softened, and for a moment, just a moment, the mask slipped. He let you see the man beneath the legend, the man who was just as terrified as you were. "I’m not invincible," he admitted, the words barely audible. "But I can’t give up on them. I can’t give up on us."

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Even in his most vulnerable moments, even when the odds were impossibly stacked against him, Satoru Gojo refused to let go of hope. He clung to it as fiercely as he clung to you, because to do anything less would mean admitting that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t strong enough.

And in that moment, you realized something: it wasn’t that your husband was a liar. It was that he couldn’t afford to tell the truth, because if he did, the weight of it might break him.

So, you let him hold onto his lie, let him believe in a future where you, Satoshi, Megumi, and Tsumiki could all be together again. Maybe it was kinder that way. For both of you.

As the night stretched on and the inevitable dawn crept closer, you pressed your face against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For now, that was all you had—the warmth of him beside you, the sound of his heart still beating, the fragile hope that somehow, against all odds, he would come back to you.

And maybe, just maybe, the lie would come true.

“I always have, don’t I?” he added, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, that signature bravado surfacing in an attempt to reassure you. “I’ve always won the day. I��ll come back.”

Your husband’s bright eyes—those crystalline blue eyes that had seen so much, fought through so much—they betrayed him. Beneath that unwavering confidence, there was something else. Fear? Doubt? It was a crack in the façade of the invincible man you married, a truth too terrifying to speak aloud.

Your throat tightened as you met his gaze, the silence between you heavier than any words could be. He had always come back, hadn’t he? Through every impossible battle, every mission that should have left him broken or worse, he had somehow returned to you, grinning as if the world itself were a game only he knew how to win.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. The nights he returned bruised, bleeding, barely standing, those nights played in your mind like a broken record. He made light of it all, brushing off your worries with a laugh, a kiss, a flippant “I’m fine.” But those were lies too, weren’t they? Lies wrapped in love.

“Satoru,” you breathed, your voice unsteady, “you don’t have to say it.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, and that brief flicker of vulnerability nearly undid you. He pulled you closer, his hand cradling the back of your neck, his touch tender but laced with desperation. "But I will come back," he insisted, his voice soft but firm. "I always do."

You wanted to believe him. You needed to. Because to imagine a world where he didn’t come back, where that promise wasn’t fulfilled, was a world too cruel to fathom. But tonight, as the shadow of Sukuna loomed larger than ever, the weight of that lie pressed down on you both. What if this time, his strength wasn’t enough?

“What if…” you started, but he silenced you with a finger pressed gently against your lips.

“No ‘what ifs,’” he whispered, though you both knew better than that. Satoru had lived his life defying fate, bending it to his will. But not even the strongest sorcerer could escape death forever.

His hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your face as if trying to memorize it, as if this moment might be his last chance. You could see the weight of the world in his eyes, the burden of being the one everyone relied on, the one expected to face the impossible—and win.

But for once, he wasn’t invincible to you. He was just a man, your husband, and for the first time, you saw the lie for what it was: his way of protecting you. Of protecting himself from the truth that this might be the one fight he couldn’t walk away from.

You placed your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin, and in that moment, you didn’t care about lies or truths, about promises or fears. You just wanted him here, now, with you. "Then stay with me a little longer," you whispered, your voice breaking.

Satoru closed his eyes, exhaling deeply, and nodded. "I’m here," he said, pulling you into his arms, his voice a soft, almost broken promise. "I’m here."

And for tonight, that would have to be enough.

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, neither speaking, just holding onto each other as if by doing so, you could freeze time, stop the inevitable from coming. You memorized the feel of his hands on your skin, the warmth of his body against yours, the sound of his heartbeat under your palm. You clung to the moment as if it were your last.

As the night wore on, you both lay down, tangled in each other’s arms. Sleep didn’t come easily, and when it did, it was fitful, haunted by the looming specter of tomorrow. You held onto him tightly, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear into the darkness, never to return.

In the early hours before dawn, Satoru stirred, his arms tightening around you one last time. The weight of the night clung to both of you, thick and heavy, the silence between his breaths and your heart beats a fragile barrier against the coming storm.

You felt him shift beside you, his warmth pulling you closer, as if holding you tighter could keep the inevitable at bay for just a moment longer. His fingers traced gentle circles on your back, his touch familiar, grounding, but laced with an unspoken tension.

"I’ll be back, hm?" he whispered again, the words soft and lingering in the stillness. His voice, usually so sure, faltered at the edges, as though he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to comfort you.

He said it like a prayer, like repeating it enough times could bend fate, twist reality to make it true. But you knew better. You both did. Those words, though meant to soothe, carried the weight of all the times you’d heard them before, and the growing fear that this time might be different.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. The knot in your throat tightened, a lump of unspoken fears and uncried tears. There was too much to say, too much that couldn’t be put into words without breaking whatever fragile hope remained between you. If you spoke now, you might lose whatever composure you had left, and you needed to hold on to it, if only for his sake.

Instead, you pressed your face against his chest, your ear resting just above his heart. The steady, rhythmic beating echoed through your body, its cadence familiar and reassuring, a sound that had become synonymous with home.

It was the same heartbeat you’d fallen asleep to countless nights, the one you’d clung to after long missions, when he’d returned battered but smiling, and you’d held him just like this—like he was your anchor to the world.

But this time, it was different. You weren’t just seeking comfort; you were memorizing it. The sound, the feel of his chest rising and falling beneath your cheek, the warmth of his skin against yours. You were committing it all to memory, engraving it deep into your soul because, somewhere in the back of your mind, a quiet voice whispered that this might be the last time.

Each beat of his heart became a marker, a reminder of the moments you had shared, of all the laughter and love and quiet nights like this one. But now, it also carried the weight of what could be lost. The inevitability of tomorrow pressed against your chest, suffocating, as if time itself was slipping through your fingers.

You tighten your grip around him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, unwilling to let go, even as the sky outside began to lighten with the first traces of dawn. The sun was rising, and with it, the time for him to leave drew nearer.

Satoru’s hand moved to your hair, his fingers threading through it gently, soothingly. He kissed the top of your head, and though his touch was as tender as ever, there was a lingering sadness in it. He held you like he was trying to memorize you, too, like this was as much for him as it was for you. He didn’t say anything more, perhaps because he knew that no words would ease the ache that had settled between you, a chasm neither of you could cross.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, casting a soft, golden glow over the room, you felt him shift again, his breath hitching slightly as he prepared to rise. You wanted to beg him to stay, to forget about everything else, just for today. But you knew he couldn’t, and you wouldn’t ask that of him. He had a duty, a burden that he had carried for as long as you had known him. And no matter how much you wanted to keep him safe, you couldn’t shield him from what was coming.

When he finally moved to leave, your arms loosened around him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go completely. Not yet. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than he needed to, as if he, too, was trying to hold on to this last fragment of peace before it was shattered.

“I’ll be back.” he whispered once more, his breath warm against your skin.

This time, you didn’t respond because you couldn’t. Instead, you closed your eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat linger in your memory, holding onto it as tightly as you held onto him. The door would close behind him soon, and with it, he would walk into the fight of his life, a battle that you both knew could be his last. But for now, in this fleeting moment before dawn, you let yourself believe in the lie, because the truth was too painful to bear.

And when he finally left, the door closing softly behind him, you were left alone in the silence, the echo of his promise lingering in the air, fragile and fleeting.

HE DOESN��T KNOW WHY, BUT HE JUST FELT LIKE TALKING. Quite unlike him, if he was being honest with himself.  But as Gojo Satoru sat beside Itadori Yuji, all he could think about was peace of mind. And to do that, he thinks he should talk.

Gojo Satoru could feel his usual smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, though today it felt more subdued. They had been talking for a while now, their conversation meandering from one thing to another. But beneath Satoru’s lighthearted tone, Yuji sensed something deeper. Something weighed heavy on his teacher’s mind.

“When something happens, I want you to be there for me, Yuji.” Satoru said suddenly, his eyes staring ahead. His voice was soft, but not weak—it carried the strength of someone who had lived with the knowledge that he had to bear the world on his shoulders. “I have love and dreams too, you know.”

Yuji blinked, surprised by the vulnerability in Satoru’s words. He wasn’t used to hearing his sensei talk like this, with a depth that seemed so different from his usual carefree attitude.

Satoru glanced at Yuji, his smile widening slightly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But you know, one day, everyone will grow up and leave me behind, right?”

Yuji didn’t know how to respond. The idea of leaving Satoru behind felt impossible. But Satoru’s words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his loneliness. It was a rare glimpse into the mind of the man everyone thought was invincible.

“I have high hopes for you.” Satoru continued, his voice becoming more playful, but there was something fragile beneath the surface. “Desire and ambition!”

“I could never forget you.” Yuji said as he smiled nervously, trying to deflect the seriousness with humor, though it didn’t quite land. 

Satoru sighed. “I honestly think it’s better to have someone stronger than me who can truly forget my existence.”

“Isn’t that a bit concerning, Sensei?” Yuji asked after a moment, tilting his head. “Are you okay with that?”

Satoru’s smile softened. “Ah, you’re so young and naïve!” he said fondly, his voice carrying an almost paternal tone. “You’re brimming with confidence, aren’t you?”

The conversation lulled, and for a moment, the two sat in silence, the air between them thick with unsaid things. And then, Satoru spoke again, but this time his voice was lower, as if he were confessing something he hadn’t shared with anyone else.

“You know, Yuji…..” Satoru began, his gaze distant. The most emotional Yuji had seen him to be. “Sometimes I wish I could just… run away. With my beloved. My wife. Megumi, Tsumiki, and little Satoshi too. I dream about it sometimes. Hiding us away somewhere no one could find us. No more battles, no more curses… just peace. We’d be a family again.”

Yuji looked at his sensei Gojo, stunned. He had never heard his teacher speak like this before, as though the weight of being the strongest had finally worn him down. Gojo Satoru’s dream of escaping, of living a quiet life with the people he loved—it was so human. 

So far removed from the man everyone saw as untouchable, undefeatable. But at this moment, Satoru wasn’t the strongest sorcerer in the world. He was just a man who wanted to protect the people he loved. A man who longed for something simple, something real.

“That’s my dream, my love and dreams.” Satoru whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I know it’s impossible. The world needs me too much.”

Yuji’s heart ached for him. He didn’t know what to say, so instead, he simply sat there, hoping that in his silence, his sensei could feel his support.

Satoru sighed, standing up and stretching as if to shake off the heaviness of their conversation. “Anyway, enough of that.” he said, flashing his usual grin. “Let’s focus on what’s in front of us.”

But even as he spoke, Yuji couldn’t shake the feeling that, deep down, Satoru Gojo longed for something far beyond his reach.

Yuji stared at Satoru, processing the weight of his sensei's words. It was hard to imagine Satoru Gojo, the invincible sorcerer who seemed so carefree, harboring such a vulnerable wish. A man who could crush enemies with ease, someone who always had the answers—yet, here he was, confessing a dream that would never come true.

“I never thought… you’d want something like that, Sensei.” Yuji admitted quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “I guess I never really thought about what you’d want outside of all this.”

Satoru glanced at him, a softer smile playing on his lips. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? When you’re as strong as I am, no one really thinks to ask what you want. They think you don’t need anything… or anyone.”

Yuji frowned, guilt washing over him. He hadn’t meant to think that way about Gojo Satoru, but it was true. He had always seen his teacher as larger than life, almost beyond human in his ability to control any situation, to be everywhere and nowhere at once.

"But... you have them, Sensei." Yuji said slowly, searching for the right words. "Your wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, and Satoshi… They need you, don't they? Maybe you can’t run away, but you still have something, sensei. A family. Isn't that enough?”

Satoru chuckled, but the sound was hollow, lacking its usual energy. He sat back down beside Yuji, his gaze once again distant. “You’d think that, right? But the stronger you are, the more people take from you. It’s like… I’m always on borrowed time. I’m always one fight away from leaving them behind too.”

Yuji swallowed hard. He’d never thought about Satoru’s life in that way. It was a sobering realization, that even someone as powerful as Gojo was constantly battling not just external threats but the fear of losing what little he had.

“I wish I could protect them from everything.” Satoru murmured. “Just take them somewhere far away… no more battles, no more cursed energy. Just… quiet. But no matter how strong I am, I can’t do that. I can’t just… leave the world to burn while we live in peace.”

He turned to Yuji then, his icy blue eyes piercing through the air. “You know, sometimes I think I was selfish for bringing them into my world. Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… my wife. They didn’t ask for this. I chose this life for them.”

“Sensei.” Yuji started, unsure of what to say. His heart ached for Satoru. “They love you. And… they wouldn’t want to live without you, either. Even if it’s dangerous.”

Satoru’s lips twitched upward in a bittersweet smile. “Yeah, I know. But love’s a tricky thing, Yuji. It’s not enough to stop the world from trying to tear us apart. It never has been.”

Yuji nodded, not fully understanding, but feeling the gravity of Satoru’s words. There was a silence between them, but it was heavy with the weight of shared thoughts, of unspoken dreams and impossible futures.

Satoru leaned back, his hands resting behind his head. “But hey, that’s just how it goes, right? No point in dwelling on things we can’t change.”

He looked at Yuji with a bright grin, but it felt like a mask—one Yuji was starting to see through more and more. “So, enough about me. What about you? What are your dreams, Yuji?”

Yuji blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. “My dreams?”

Satoru nodded. “Yeah. You must have some. Or did you think I was the only one allowed to have them?”

Yuji scratched the back of his neck, thinking for a moment. “I guess… I don’t know. I never really thought that far ahead. I’ve been so focused on everything happening now, I never gave myself the chance.”

Satoru chuckled softly. “That’s the thing with us, sorcerers. We get so caught up in fighting for today, we forget to dream about tomorrow.”

Yuji looked down at his hands, feeling a strange sense of guilt. “Do you really think… you can never have that life you want?”

Satoru didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the wind ruffle his silver hair. For a moment, he was just Satoru—not the strongest, not the invincible sorcerer, but a man burdened by the life he had to lead.

“I don’t know, Yuji……” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But I like to dream that maybe, someday… we could all disappear. And live. Just live.  Just me, my wife, Megumi, Tsumiki, Satoshi… away from everything. Living in peace.”

His voice trailed off, and Yuji could hear the longing in it. The truth was, Satoru Gojo might be the strongest sorcerer alive, but even he was bound by the same rules as everyone else. He couldn’t run from the world, couldn’t hide from the battles he had to fight.

But it didn’t stop him from dreaming.

Yuji looked at him with a new understanding, realizing that no matter how strong someone was, they still carried their own struggles, their own wishes and dreams. And sometimes, those dreams were just as fragile as anyone else's.

"Maybe one day, sensei." Yuji said softly, with an honest smile. "You won't have to fight anymore."

Satoru chuckled, opening one eye to glance at Yuji. "Maybe. But until then, we keep going."

And with that, the conversation ended, but the weight of it lingered between them—a reminder that even the strongest had dreams they longed to chase, even if those dreams were just out of reach.

YOU THINK YOU WAITED FOR THIS MOMENT FOR A LONG TIME. When you wait for your eyes to close with finality, the weight of the years presses down on you, a quiet fatigue settling into your bones. You’re tired—so tired—and when you open them again, you're met with the familiar sight of Fushiguro Megumi and Gojo Satoshi. Your two sons, waiting for you to go and leave them. 

Megumi stands tall, his arms crossed as usual, but his gaze softens when he sees you. Satoshi, ever his opposite, smiles that wide, carefree grin of his. They both look at you, concern etched into their features.

"I'm exhausted." you tell them softly, the words slipping out like a confession you’ve been holding in for far too long.

“You can’t die yet, Mother......" Satoshi pipes up, his voice steady, but the cracks of fear were unmistakable. His usual bright demeanor falters, his hands trembling ever so slightly as he grips the hem of his shirt. His voice may be steady, but his eyes betray him—glossed with unshed tears, reflecting a grief he’s not ready to face. Not now. Not yet. 

“You’re still too young!” There’s urgency in his words, a childlike plea echoing in his tone, though he’s long since grown past childhood. The way his shoulders hunch forward, the way his gaze darts between you and Megumi—he’s holding on. Clutching to hope as if his words could anchor you to this world a little longer. 

Megumi stands beside him, more composed, but his silence carries a weight just as heavy. He nods, his expression solemn. “He’s right, Gen-san.” Megumi adds quietly.

His voice is low, restrained, as though he’s struggling to hold back everything he truly wants to say. His hands remain tucked in his pockets, his face as unreadable as ever, but his eyes—the eyes you’ve known for so many years—hold a flicker of something deeper. Desperation? Fear? Perhaps both.

"You’re only 48. You still have time left."

His words are careful, deliberate, each one carrying the weight of someone who’s had to shoulder too much responsibility, too much loss. The faint tremor in his voice betrays how much he’s already bracing himself for another wound, another absence he’ll have to carry.

You look at them both—Satoshi, who still clings to hope as though it could somehow rewrite fate, and Megumi, whose quiet strength has always shielded him from the full brunt of the pain—but not this time. They both stand there, torn between urging you to stay and accepting the inevitable.

But you smile at them, a soft, knowing smile that carries the weight of the years, the joy and the sorrow, the love and the loss. It's a smile that’s lived through the ache of life without Satoru, a smile that remembers every laugh, every argument, every stolen glance, and every moment that felt too brief. 

“I know, I know......” you say, your voice gentle, steady. There’s a peace in your tone that they don’t yet understand, a quiet acceptance that fills the space between you. “But I’m ready. I’ve missed Satoru... for so long.”

And in that moment, as you say his name, the air feels lighter, as if the years of separation, the longing, the silent ache in your chest begins to unravel. You missed him—not just in fleeting moments or in passing thoughts, but in the depths of your soul. Every day, every night. The space he left behind has been a constant companion, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again.

The tears in Satoshi’s eyes finally spill over, and Megumi’s lips press into a thin line, his jaw tightening, but neither of them say anything. They understand, even if they don’t want to.

Because love—true, enduring love—is something that even death can’t diminish. And they know you loved Satoru with all that you were, and perhaps, even now, they understand that your heart has been waiting for him all along.

The weight in your chest lightens as you speak his name. Megumi frowns but doesn't say anything more, and Satoshi’s smile falters, understanding settling into their eyes. 

You close your eyes once again, the world fading into a peaceful darkness. There's a brief moment of silence, a quiet passing, before a familiar voice echoes softly, teasingly:

“Did you miss me?”

Tears well up before you even open your eyes. You don’t need to see him to know it’s him. The voice, that unmistakable voice—playful, laced with all the love and mischief you’d missed for too long.

When your eyes flutter open, there he is—Satoru, standing before you, that brilliant smile lighting up his face. The tears fall freely now, but for the first time in years, they're not from

“Satoru......” you breathe, his name barely a whisper on your lips, as though speaking it aloud might break the fragile moment. Your voice catches in your throat, a mix of disbelief, relief, and the sorrow that’s lived inside you for far too long.

It’s a name you’ve spoken to the silence of empty rooms, whispered into the night when no one was there to hear, a name tied to a thousand memories you’ve held onto so tightly for all these years. 

The tears that have welled up in your eyes begin to spill over, blurring the figure before you, but you don’t need to see him to know it’s him. You feel him—his presence, his warmth, the way his energy fills the space around you like it always did. 

He steps closer, closing the distance between you in a way that feels like the erasure of all those agonizing years of separation. His familiar warmth envelops you, wrapping around you like an embrace you’ve longed for, like a homecoming after a journey that has lasted far too long.

The brush of his thumb against your cheek is achingly gentle, tender as he wipes away the tears that won’t stop falling. His touch, so familiar, yet so missed, sends a wave of emotions crashing over you—grief for the years you lost, joy for the moment you never thought you’d have again.

"You came back to me, finally." His voice is quieter now, the usual teasing that you had come to know so well is gone, replaced by something deeper—something raw and vulnerable, a depth of emotion he often hid beneath his bravado.

There’s relief in his words, but also a quiet sorrow, as if he too felt the weight of all the time you’d spent apart. As if he too had been waiting, missing you just as much as you had missed him.

His breath is warm against your skin, and you hear the slight tremor in his voice, that hint of fragility in the man who always seemed invincible to you. There’s a vulnerability in him now, standing before you, as though he’s afraid this moment might not be real. Afraid that if he holds you too tightly, you might slip away again.

His thumb continues to trace gentle patterns along your cheek, the rhythm of it soothing and familiar, grounding you in the reality that he’s truly here. And as he looks at you, his bright blue eyes softer now, there’s a depth to them that speaks to all the words left unsaid, to all the years spent in separation, to the weight of the grief he carried alone.

"I waited and waited, stalling some gods....." he continues, his voice just above a whisper now, the teasing facade stripped away, leaving only the rawness of his feelings. "I waited so long, and every day… I missed you."

There’s a moment of silence that stretches between you, heavy with the unspoken sorrow of time lost, of love interrupted by forces beyond your control. His hand, still cradling your face, trembles just slightly, as if even Satoru, with all his strength, couldn’t bear the thought of losing you again.

The weight of it all—of everything you endured, everything you lost—comes crashing down at once, and you let out a soft, broken sob. You feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you against him, holding you close like he’s afraid to ever let go. 

“I missed you too. So so much.” you whisper into his chest, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. “I never stopped missing you, Satoru.”

You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep breath, his lips pressing softly against your forehead. And for the first time in what feels like forever, the sorrow that’s been living inside you begins to ease. It doesn’t disappear entirely—grief never really does—but here, in Satoru’s arms, it feels lighter. It feels like, maybe, you can finally rest.

And in that moment, you realize that the exhaustion, the waiting—it was all worth it. You're home.

epilogue

The afterlife wasn’t exactly what you expected. Instead of floating through clouds or endless fields of serenity, you found yourself at what looked like an airport terminal. Before you could process how bizarre this was, you spotted them—Kaiko and Namie, both waving like maniacs from the crowd.

“Finally!” Kaiko shouts, sprinting toward you with the grace of someone who has no concept of personal space. Namie follows, beaming brightly, and within seconds, they’re both squeezing the life out of you.

“Guys, air... I need air!” you gasp, but they only hug you tighter. Kaiko plants a kiss on your cheek, and Namie loops an arm around your waist like they’ve been waiting years for this reunion.

“We missed you so much, you know?” Kaiko pouts, ignoring your protests. “The afterlife just isn’t the same without you.”

“Excuse me.” You look over Kaiko’s shoulder to see Satoru, sunglasses slightly askew, his mouth pulled into a pout that could rival a spoiled child’s. “You’re hogging my wife.”

Kaiko smirks, not even turning to look at Satoru. “Your wife? Funny, because I’m pretty sure I was her first love.” She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head ever so slightly as if daring him to challenge the claim.

Satoru's eyes narrow behind his shades. “That was ages ago, you homewrecker! She married me—” he steps forward, pointing at the both of you— “not you.”

“Oh please,” Kaiko rolls her eyes. “I’ve known her longer. I laid the groundwork. I was and always will be the original concept!”

Satoru steps closer, his height towering over Kaiko but Kaiko isn’t fazed. “She chose me.”

“She settled for you, shitty eyes!” Kaiko quips, her grin widening. “There’s a difference.”

And that’s all it takes. Satoru’s eyebrow twitches, and suddenly they’re in each other’s faces like squabbling children. You can barely get a word in before they start throwing insults—Kaiko jabbing at Satoru’s height, Satoru boasting about his undeniable charm.

“Guys, seriously?” You rub your temples, trying to hold back laughter. “This is ridiculous.”

Geto Suguru, ever the voice of reason (or at least the one who knows when to pick his battles), sidles up beside you with a casual smile. “Looks like some things never change.”

You grin at him, feeling a sense of ease that only Suguru can bring. “Tell me about it. Can’t believe I’m back and they’re already fighting over me.”

“Typical Satoru!” Suguru laughs. “He never could handle competition.” He offers you a knowing look, then gestures to the absurd scene in front of you. “Should we break it up?”

“Nah, let them tire themselves out.” you reply, waving a hand dismissively. “They’ll realize how stupid they’re being soon enough.”

As if on cue, Kaiko flicks Satoru in the forehead. “She loved my kisses first!”

“Oh, for—" Satoru huffs, about to lunge at Kaiko when you step in between them. “She loved mine more!”

“Oh shut up,your kisses are slimy and disgusting!”

“HUH!? You take that back!”

“Ugly frog! Bwah!” 

“Alright, enough.” You shake your head, stifling a laugh. “Satoru, Kaiko, stop acting like children. I’m here for everyone, okay?”

“Everyone except Kaiko.” Satoru mutters under his breath.

Suguru chuckles beside you, giving you a side glance. “Welcome back.”

You smile, patting his shoulder. “Good to be back. I see things haven’t changed much.”

As Kaiko and Satoru continue bickering like they’re back in high school, Suguru leans over, smirking. “Should we take bets on who wins this round?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m putting my money on Namie. She’s going to step in and drag both of them away soon enough.”

And, just like clockwork, Namie swoops in, grabbing Kaiko by the arm and tugging her toward the exit, muttering about “taking this fight outside.”

Satoru watches them go, arms crossed, still pouting. He looks at you, expectant, as if waiting for reassurance.

You chuckle, stepping closer and placing a hand on his chest. “Relax, Satoru. You know you’re the one I chose.”

His pout softens into a grin, and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “Damn right.”

And with that, the chaos of the airport fades into the background, as you bask in the comfort of having your husband by your side—and of course, the endless entertainment of old rivals.

[driaswrld]

lovers rock — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 2.7k

summary : over a bottle of ill-gotten vodka, the trio has a tipsy conversation about kisses.

part of : the star paradox collection.

(comment if u wanna be tagged for tsr!!)

notes : this is heavily based off the fact that reader DID in fact have secret feelings for geto and gojo but never said anything ab it until before the star plasma incident (fic ab that coming soon dw) you may interpret this as reader fell first, they fell harder bcus that's exactly what happened fr

other : satosugu makes fake IDs (based off that one fanart), literally underage drinking??? toru cant hold his alc but wbk this, suguru smokes here too, suggestive convo, mentions of like one curse word i think

current casette : lovers rock - tv girl (anything by tv girl is a tsr song okay?)

The dorms at Tokyo Jujutsu High operate on one solid rule.

All lights out by ten, no exceptions, no buts, ands, ifs or becauses. Curfew is at ten, be in your damn room by ten.

Naturally, Satoru and Suguru mistake ten for twelve.

It’s 9:53 when you walk into your dorm room, and the first thing that greets you are hushed whispers and a smoky smell.

Why is it so dark in here?

From your place at the door frame, your eyes flit to the back of Satoru’s head, silver white strands tickling his nape, uniform replaced with a blue hoodie. Suguru’s sitting across from him, slouched, cross legged like Satoru, hair tied into a ponytail and lips twisted into a thin scowl.

“—wasn’t yours.” Suguru grumbles beneath his breath, a pair of dice clinking softly in his palm, the light from your bedside lamp giving you a sneak peek of the numbers resting.

Three and six. Oh, no, that's definitely five.

“Cost me six hundred yen to get it.”

Satoru seems to ignore him, letting out a huff in defiance.

Suguru grunts, leaning over the side of the bed to pick up a half smoked cigarette, pressing it softly against the edge of your favorite incense holder to collect the stray ash.

“Broke ass.” Satoru mumbles, and though you can’t see his expression from here, you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Freeloader.” Suguru counters, cigarette lodged between his middle and index, and he brings it up to his lips and draws in softly.

He leans forward to drop the dice on Satoru’s leg.

“We’re supposed to split it equally.” You hear a clinking noise coming from Satoru’s lap.

“Like hell we are.” Suguru scoffs, a wisp of smoke leaving his mouth.

“I should get first share, it’s only fair.”

Suguru gets up from the bed, back turned to you as he slides the window open halfway. “We’re not sharing anything.” He flicks the cigarette outside. “I don’t know where your mouth’s been—”

“You tryin’ to fight—”

“Are you two getting high in my room?” Your voice makes them both freeze, and Satoru folds over the bed backwards, head upside down and staring straight at you with a guilty grin, all while Suguru is discreetly trying to fan the rest of the cigarette smoke out the window.

“What gave you that idea?” Suguru murmurs, squinting his eyes to make out your expression in the dim light with a faux innocent smile.

You breathe a chuckle, dropping your bag by the door and clicking it shut behind you. “How did the studying with Nanamin go?” Satoru asks, as if you can’t see him folded over the bed like he’s hiding something while Suguru fans the smoke through the window.

“I fell asleep halfway through, we got boba with Haibara instead.” You say, feeling blindly on the wall for the light switch.

“And you didn’t bring some back for me?” Satoru gasps, near offended.

“Don't change the subject,” you roll your eyes, pinky finger bumping against the light switch, and you flick it upwards with your index. When the light comes on and you face them, your jaw drops.

“Surprise…?” Suguru’s cheeks puff up in a wide thin lipped smile, almost mockingly. Satoru is still hanging off the edge of the bed, cigarette ash curdled on your incense holder, the pair of dice laying on the bedsheets and sure, they kinda made a little mess of your room.

But it's the bottle of vodka sitting between Satoru’s legs that takes the cake.

“You have to be kidding me—”

Suguru shrugs his shoulders, sliding the window fully open, the night air wafting inside.

It's almost curfew. And here they are. You're not even surprised, this is totally in character for them. “Wow, no, Satoru, you're such a rebel?” Satoru kicks his legs back and forth, voice mimicking a girly pitch. “Bad boys are so hot! Tell me all your secrets, toru-kun! None of that?"

“I was there too, idiot.” Suguru grumbles, shoving one of Satoru's legs aside as he steps over to the bedside table to grab the ash covered incense holder.

Satoru flails his legs like Suguru just smacked him, ever so dramatically. “How did you do it though?” You ask, with a near wince, exasperated but curious.

Unexpectedly, Satoru swings the vodka bottle sideways and into Suguru’s arms, the glass making a soft set of clink! sounds from Suguru’s rings as he catches it, both your eyes going wide as Satoru stands on the bed, striking some sort of elaborate pose.

“The date, June fifteenth ‘06—”

You turn to Suguru, confused but he only shrugs in response. “My assistant Sugi-san and I walked into Shinanoya—” Satoru continues his elaborate presentation, meanwhile you and Suguru whisper between his words. "Never call me that again—"

“So that's what you two were doing while you were supposed to be exorcising that curse?”

“He forced me to go along—”

“With these!” Satoru pulls out a mini plastic card, which is supposed to look like an ID, but really it's as flimsy as a piece of paper. You had to admit though, they really did get his good side in the picture. If he even has a bad side, that is.

“And we got the liquor at half price.” Suguru mumbles as you nudge him, and he pulls out his own fake ID, which looks the same as Satoru’s — you think you might want to print these pictures for a scrapbook or something some other time.

“I thought you said it was six hundred yen!”

“I added my service charge.”

“Service? What are you, a whore?”

You take the bottle from Suguru to feel the weight in your hands, and the liquid inside sloshes a little to the side.

Out of sheer curiosity and despite your better senses, you mumble, “Let's play a drinking game then.”

Forty minutes later.

It's drawing near to eleven. The lights are turned off and all that's coming from your dorm room are the sounds of yours and the boys’ whispers and hushed giggles from time to time, barely drowned out by a soft song playing from Suguru’s phone, playlist laying open on his phone, one of Satoru’s picks.

Are you sick of me?

Would you like to be?

“—turn it to your head if you can't answer.” Satoru grins, cheek resting on his palm as he lays across the bed. “Have you ever gotten freaky with a milf?”

A chortle leaves your mouth when Suguru twists his lips into an expression of shock and utter disgust, and you have to cover your mouth to not laugh out loud.

“A milf? Like… forty or something?”

“Not really — just like a hot older woman.” You say.

“Oh, she was around that age then, I guess…” Suguru grumbles, clutching the half empty vodka bottle in one hand, eyes squinted. “I didn't sleep with her though— I don't just… sling dick around like Satoru— I have morals.”

“Says the one who sucked tongue with an elderly woman.”

Suguru scoffs and takes a swig from the bottle, passing it over to you.

You shrug, coming to Suguru’s defense with a mumble. “I mean, Satoru… you are common—”

“Don't pretty it up, he's ran through—”

“Like hell I am!”

The three of you fold over in a fit of laughter, gasping for air, faces hot from the alcohol and the sheer idiocy of the moment.

It takes all your energy to muffle your combined laughs, and Satoru leans over Suguru’s phone to increase the music volume just a little, lightheaded and nearly knocking the vodka out of your hand, mouthing the lyrics with a lopsided toothy grin.

You like a pretty boy

With a pretty voice

“Your turn.” Suguru nods to you and the liquor in your hand sloshes to the side. “Make it good—”

Satoru tries to interrupt but has to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh when you take a whiff of the vodka, head tilting back and mouth forming an ‘o’ shape — sure, you three were already a little tipsy, but you’re pretty sure this is way past your limit.

Not like you could hold your alcohol anyway.

Suguru was the only one who could survive, you and Satoru were certified lightweights by default.

“Dare me to do anything and I’ll throw up on you.” You huff, and both boys raise their arms up in surrender.

It’s these things, small moments like these that make you want to live forever.

Minus the aging part, or maybe with the aging part — if it meant doing stupid stuff with Satoru and Suguru, young or old, you’re sure you’d have no complaints.

Because it’s them.

“You scared?” Satoru chuckles, drawing you out of your thoughts.

The way he says it, in that tone – it’s the same tone that would make you follow him anywhere.

The same tone that makes Suguru roll his eyes so far in the back of his head you’d think he had a leading role in The Conjuring.

“Should I be scared?”

It’s paired with bated breath, and the way Suguru looks up at you, dark eyes glazed over with a hint of inebriation, waterline bordering on crimson from the lit cigarette tucked between his middle and index – it makes you feel naked.

In a way you’ve never felt before.

“That depends,” he murmurs. You gulp. It’s like the air in here has changed, foggy with a foreign feeling surrounding you three. “Do you wanna be scared?”

Suguru takes a deep inhale of his cig, leaning over to breathe out a plume of smoke. You and Satoru inhale it like you’ve neglected oxygen your whole lives.

Maybe if it were anyone else you’d call it want. Or need.

Something in your soul tells you it transcends that.

She might want a kiss before the end of the song—

“Suguru—” His name doesn't get the chance to leave your mouth entirely, Satoru’s thumb and forefinger already have your chin in his grasp, turning your gaze to him instead.

“What’re you looking at him for?” Satoru mumbles, and you hear Suguru stifles a laugh across from you.

“You think he’s gonna save you?”

You want to laugh, it’s a running joke anyway.

No matter what, you run to Suguru to put Satoru in his place. That time Satoru got you kicked out of a movie theater, or the time Satoru tripped you up during a mission in front of the first years, or the time Satoru ate the cheesecake you hid in your mini fridge —

Whenever little name gets her strings pulled by Satoru, she goes running off for Suguru to save her, right?

But it doesn’t feel like he’s talking about that.

“You need me to save you, name?” Suguru chuckles, and from the corner of your eye, you see him pull his hair loose, dark strands cascading over his shoulders.

“Gonna let him call you weak like that?” He chides, and the cool pad of Satoru’s thumb taps against your bottom lip twice, as if challenging you to say something – to give him your attention instead.

“Nah, don’t need a hero.” You whisper, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Toru might though.”

Suguru bites back a snicker, head tilting back as he draws in another inhale of smoke. “Aw, don’t bully him, name.”

Because love can burn

Like a cigarette

“C’mon, don’t look at him,” Satoru tilts your head in his grasp, a soft grin forming on his face, dimples on showcase. “Look at me.” He whispers, tugging you closer, and you have to tighten your grip on the neck of the bottle so it doesn’t slip, your palms sweating from the proximity.

“Satoru—”

“Don’t double back now, you laughed a bit too hard at me just now, y’know?”

You open your mouth to protest, shivering when the tip of your tongue grazes the pad of his thumb. Satoru makes a noise in the back of his throat, something between a groan and a scoff.

You wonder if the vodka made you imagine the way his pupils dilated. “Just ask the stupid question—” You try to turn your head away in vain, and this time, Suguru laughs at your expense.

“You ever been kissed before?”

And leave you with nothing

You stiffen, gaze snapping up to meet Satoru’s, only to find him dead serious.

Ofcourse you’ve been kissed before. But not like that— not like—

Like… oh no…

And if you start to kiss—

You bring the bottle of vodka to your lips, and both boys watch with amused gazes, and hint of something you don’t have a name for yet.

“You could’ve just—” Satoru’s hand falls loose over your shoulder as you take a swig, and Suguru shifts forward in curiosity. “—said no.”

“Nobody’s kissed you?” Suguru echoes and you grimace from the alcohol and the sheer embarrassment, shoving the open bottle to stand in the space between Satoru’s legs.

“Your turn,” you grumble, wiping remnants of the sweet liquor from your mouth with the back of your palm.

And the record skips—

Satoru and Suguru exchange a look, one you immediately assume is them reading each other’s minds and gearing up to laugh in your face.

Truly, you wouldn’t blame them — because here you are about to graduate in a year and still haven’t gotten your first kiss.

And it’s not like you haven’t like… gotten close to it— it’s just that the circumstances are never perfect and other things always get involved and you get all in your head and your mind just starts to do the thing—

“Hey,” Satoru’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, and your palms go clammy, folded over your lap. “We don’t care about it, it’s nothing.” He whispers.

“Pretty sure there’s nobody who even deserves to kiss you anyway.” You glance over to Suguru, who’s already outing his cigarette and scooting closer.

Flip it over

And sit a little closer

If anything, it makes you swell with shame rather than comfort.

“Not like that, I didn’t mean—”

“Great job, Suguru—”

“As if you were doing any better—”

And despite yourself, you chuckle. They’re idiots. God, they’re fools.

Now, how many men have you kissed?

Satoru’s fingers dip under the collar of your shirt, playing around with the loose thread.

They made you laugh, that’s enough for him, always has been. He knows Suguru feels the same, but why… why doesn’t he feel satisfied with just that? Like there's something else he should be doing?

“Not fair,” he mumbles beneath his breath, cheeks flushed as he slumps forward, resting his head in the crook of your neck. You think he might be past his drinking limit, he always gets all babbly like this when he is.

“Not fair?” Suguru questions, resting a hand over his knee.

“Yeah, ‘s just not fair — who wouldn’t wanna kiss her?”

“I’m literally right here—”

“Keep listening then, it’s not like I’m lying or nothing.”

You’re not strong like Satoru and Suguru.

You’d say you’re not as beautiful either, or eve half as smart sometimes – you never compare yourselves to them but in the great grand scheme of things— you’ve never wanted to be kissed anyway, not by anyone you don’t feel for.

Not by someone who doesn’t know you in the ways you don’t want to be known.

Very few

In the way you know Satoru hates alcohol, but he only ever drinks it when you and Suguru are around. The way Suguru never likes taking pictures but manages a smile when you and Satoru pull him in for a group photo.

“If I kissed you, I’d never stop.” Suguru breathes, laying back on the bed, rumble of a sigh leaving his lips.

But you offered me a kiss

In the way they both know what you’re thinking before you even say it. The way grocery runs, 24 hour mart stops, week long missions, midnight talks, belly laughs and breaching curfew feels like a love language – something only the three of you speak – like something so foreign yet so familiar.

Why?

“I don’t think I’d remember to breathe again if I kissed you.” Satoru grumbles in the crook of your neck, somewhere between a yawn and whine. “You could have anyone you want, name, a whole line full of kisses…”

“Never really wanted to be kissed to be honest,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, your eyelids drooping shut.

Such a foolish reason, I’m afraid.

I just wanted… to kiss you.

[blingblong55]

Earned release-König NSFW

Based on a request:  Dom!konig breeding sub!transmasc!reader 😍 (or m!reader if you don’t feel comfy writing that.)

I can 100% imagine this man putting his partner into a mating press, entirely fixated on how he can pump his seed into reader without them being able to squirm away. Even if in the back of his head he knows he can’t *actually* breed them, he’ll still damn sure try. Grunting praises and compliments in german, knowing either way they wouldn’t be able to comprehend whatever he said from being fucked too dumb on his cock. ♡

(IM SO EXCITED FOR KINKTOBER, CANT WAIT TO SEE MORE OF YOUR CONTENT 🩵🫐)

A/N: oh anon you ate with this request, anyway...we are getting straight to it 

---- Trans!Masc!Reader, M!Reader, MDNI, 18+, smut, unprotected!sex, MLM, established!relationship, husband!König, breeding!kink, Dom!könig, sub!reader ----

His blue eyes glisten in the dim light as König buries himself deep inside you, every vein of his cock pulsing with life. There’s no movement, no thrust from his hips—he's waiting for you to say the right words, the ones you both know will set him off.

"Look at me like a good boy, Y/N. I want to see that pretty face while I fill you again," König growls, his voice thick with desire. One of his large hands moves to your chest, fingers teasing your nipples as a moan escapes your lips, making his cock twitch inside you.

"Come on, Y/N, be daddy’s good boy and say it for me..." he continues, his voice husky, low, eyes heavy with expectation. He’s got you at his mercy, and the power play is as intoxicating as the physical pleasure.

You whimper, hips shifting slightly beneath him, desperate for more. You can see the faintest grin pull at the corner of his lips as he takes in your needy, submissive state. A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest.

"That’s what I like, mein Schatz. Such a good boy for me, aren’t you?" he purrs, his thick accent rolling out the words in a mixture of praise and possession. His mask hovers above your face, and you can feel his breath against your skin.

His free hand drifts downward, past your stomach, until it reaches your entrance. He teases you, circling your hole with his fingers, making you whine for more. 

"You’re so perfect, so tight for me. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me properly," he murmurs, before replacing his fingers with the head of his cock, the heat of him radiating against your skin, the tension building between you.

"Tell me, Y/N. Tell me you want it. Beg for me to breed you." His voice is ragged, his patience wearing thin as he stares into your eyes, waiting for the words that will break him.

"Breed me," you moan, your brow furrowing as you pant beneath him. "Please... please breed me," you plead softly, almost breathless.

The second the words leave your lips, König is gone—lost to the primal hunger within him. With a deep, guttural growl, he thrusts forward, sheathing himself completely inside you in one swift motion. 

"Fuck, Y/N... You feel incredible," he groans, his head falling back as he savours the feeling of you around him. His pace quickly becomes brutal, each thrust powerful, filling you up, stretching you most deliciously. The slap of skin against skin echoes around you, mixing with your desperate moans and gasps for air.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue claiming you just as thoroughly as his cock does. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he pounds into you, angling himself perfectly to hit that spot deep within you.

"Take it, take my cock like the good little boy you are. I’m going to fill you up so well, pump you full of me until you’redripping with it," he growls against your lips, his words sending shivers down your spine.

You can feel him getting close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his balls tightening as he nears release. König pulls back slightly, hot breath brushing over your face as he watches your expression twist with pleasure.

"Come for me, Y/N. Come on my cock, be the good boy I know you are," he rasps, voice rough with the strain of holding back. One final thrust has him buried deep inside you, his cock throbbing as he spills inside you, filling you with his warmth. His deep moan vibrates through his chest, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer.

Your legs wrap around him, your body trembling with the overwhelming pleasure. "Ahh... f-fuck...ngh~...König!" you cry out as you reach your peak, your body shaking from the intensity of your release.

Even as your orgasm crashes over you, König doesn’t stop. He grinds his hips against yours, ensuring every drop of his seed is buried deep within you.

"That's it, Y/N. Take it all. Let me fill you up," he groans, his voice rough, satisfied. He presses soft kisses along your neck and jaw, whispering in German, "Du machst mich so stolz, mein Junge. So perfekt." 

You’ve been such a good boy for him, and he tells you that over and over, his hands caressing your face, wiping away the tears of pleasure that have fallen.

Slowly, König pulls out of you, a hiss escaping his lips at the loss of your warmth. He watches with a satisfied smirk as his cum leaks from your well-used hole.

"Look at that," he murmurs, "all my cum where it belongs." He scoops some of it onto his fingers and presses them to your lips. "Taste what we made together, Y/N."

You obediently clean his fingers, the taste of your shared moment heavy on your tongue. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close, keeping you safe in the afterglow of your passion.

Tags: @frizzseaberries @jinxxangel13 @enarien @ikohniik @sae1kie @sparky--bunny @konigssultwithghost @lovelyvqer @nobodys-coffee @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @marshiely @noodlezz-bedo @queen-ilmaree @avidreadee123 @luvecarson @aidey860

[confused-wanderer]

I know we all talk about Jason finding out Dick killed the Joker from Tim or one of the other batfam members, but what if:

One day he’s searching for blackmail material on a member just for fun and knows Damian keeps a list of all of them so he backs into the files and realised the folder with the heaviest inscription to unlock is one labelled “Contingencies”.

He opens it to find every single person in their family is on there and starts surfing through them. When he sees Tim’s he freezes, mentally filing away some horrific details for checking up on him later, Jason’s list is impressive but not much he didn’t expect…still concerned how he got the evidence though.

His fingers hesitate over Batman’s, and after thinking screw it what the hell clicks on it just to realise most of them are psychological, and had to do with Jason. One video showed Bruce as Jason remembered him from his robin days. He was pacing furiously in the Manor, tugging on his pocket square which for him was a high level of distress, before he went upstairs - to Jason’s room when he stayed there - and looked in. The change was sudden, Bruce’s shoulders sagged and his face grew into one of fondness, one he’d rarely seen before.

“I cant help it Alfred.. Scarecrow’s toxin.. I KNOW it isn’t real but.. I can’t stop thinking about it. What if -“ and Jason can’t really believe his ears, that was a fucking quiver in his voice- “What if one day it comes true?” “What was your worst fear Master Bruce?”.

“Jason..” and Jason flinches. “I.. I saw him die, and I was powerless. I cant lose him Alfred. I just cant.”

The recording ends, and it takes a while for Jason to realise he can’t breathe. He sends the file to himself and laughs bitterly, remembering what the fear toxin had shown him. Lucifer. It had shown him falling from Bruce’s grace, being his greatest disappointment. “Guess we both failed each other didnt we old man?”

After what feels like forever, when he can feel his fingers stop shaking his eyes drift over to Dicks.

Damian sure does adore him, wonder what the brats got in store for him.

Most of them were things he was sure Dick could handle, until a glitched file appeared which read “for EXTREME situations only.”

When he heard Joker laugh, Jason could’ve sworn he was in the cave. “Hello there old friend! Aww why the long face?”

Dick wasn’t facing the camera, but the sheer aura of destruction radiating off of him was enough for Jason to know Joker was in danger. Judging by his outfit and well- hair- this must’ve been years ago.

“Didn’t you like my..ah.. gift? It was quite the blast I hear!”

Dicks fists clenched. His usual smile was gone, replaced by a hatred so vile it could’ve rivalled batman’s glare. It was so odd.. seeing him so pissed.

“Well that’s what happens.. when birds get hit. They never see what’s right in front of them and then BAM!”

As his laughter rang out Jason heard Dick whisper something. It was so soft, quieter than he’d ever heard him and he found himself leaning forward.

“What’s that? How long he lasted? Well I counted everytime he screamed when I broke his bones so-“

“SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!”

Jason stumbled back, nearly falling to the floor himself. Dicks voice was thundering, echoing across the cave.

What the hell had happened? Why was Dick so mad? Why wasn’t he smiling?

“You..killed him.”

And that’s when it hit Jason. Oh. This was after he’d died.

The joker was trying to say something, but Jason couldn’t hear him. All he could focus on was how Dick was behaving, how he was walking upto Joker. Jason had seen that before.

The intent to kill.

SLAM

The fight was brutal, and blood flew everywhere, mixed with the laughter and cries of the Joker while Dick yelled, YELLED so loudly he could’ve sworn the cave was shaking before the sound of a wet snap ricocheted and Dick went limp.

No.. no no no no.

He watched in horror as Dick stood up, drenched in blood and heaving. Dick had gone- no BEATEN- the joker for Jason.

But the longer he looked, the more he felt the Lazarus pit burning inside him.

The joker wasn’t moving.

Dick walked away, and in the shadows, with bloody fists and face of hatred could not see him as the Dick he knew.

“Dead.”

He looked up to hear Dick whisper to the thundering sky outside.

“I killed him Jason. The joker is dead. Rest in peace little wing.”

Jason’s feet gave out under him, and he crashed to the ground gasping for breath.

Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he had been avenged.

Never did he even think that Dick had only killed once… and only for him.

Part two of related series where Jason finds out Bruce nearly killed the Joker:

[oofthwoods]

VICIOUS! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: arthur leclerc likes a certain type of woman: smart, neglects intuition, and not as good as him.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: set in 2021, during echo's formula 3 season. they're both jerks to each other here :/ based on vicious by sabrina carpenter (emails i cant send pretty much defines their relationship). this is short but it's important for her future relationship with a certain someone | i used echo instead of y/n here, but tell me which one you prefer

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 2.09k

"I TRIED TO LOOK FOR THE BEST IN THE WORST BUT LIKE, FUCK ME, THAT CAUSED A COMMOTION."

As the evening progresses in Austria, the bustling noises of the city begin to fade into the background, replaced by the occasional murmur of distant conversations and the gentle swish of car tires on the damp pavement. The scent of rain lingers in the air, mixing with the subtle aroma of pine carried by a cool breeze from the nearby mountains. The warmth of the day still lingers, but it's now more tolerable, just a faint reminder of earlier heat.

Arthur paces back and forth on the soft carpet beneath his bare feet, his footsteps creating a restless rhythm that echoes in his mind. Every so often, he runs his fingers along the curtains, feeling the delicate and cool fabric against his skin. But it's as if he's only scratching at the surface of the problem consuming him.

The third stage of the Formula 3 championship went off without a hitch for the three races. Arthur claimed the fastest lap in the second race, while Y/N took home first place in that same race. Prema and Art teams were locked in a heated competition for points during the first half of the championship, with the French team ultimately taking the lead after Frederik Vesti's win at the last race in the Red Bull Ring.

Throughout that weekend, Arthur barely spoke to her. Despite being swamped with commitments such as hectic meetings, exhaustive tests, and endless interviews, they used to make an effort to connect even if it was just a quick call. However, her messages were always met with prolonged periods of silence before receiving a brief and unenthusiastic response, leaving her feeling confused and frustrated. Every attempt to call resulted in reaching voicemail without any explanation or apology for his absence.

Despite her victory in the second race, he was not one of the people who congratulated her. He also did not attend the podium ceremony for the third race, where she secured an important second place for her team. She had sent him messages, but he only responded with a short "thank you" for her congratulations on earning extra points for setting the fastest lap. He completely ignored her invitation to join her and some other drivers in a celebration.

She finally couldn't take the silence any longer and broke it with frustration. "Can we at least talk? We're not kids anymore, Arthur," she said, sitting on his cluttered bed.

"Are you leaving for France tomorrow?" Arthur asked quietly, still refusing to look at her as he packed his suitcase.

"No. Fernando wants me to go to Madrid and then Silverstone with him during my break. The team doesn't need me at the factory, so I have some free time," Y/N replied with a heavy sigh, feeling the tension between them.

She received only a grunt as a response, which was enough for her to know that it was time to speak up. "Are you going to turn around and actually use words, or are you going to keep grunting like some kind of primitive?" Her voice held a mix of determination and disappointment, reflecting her growing frustration with the lack of communication between them.

Arthur spun on his heels and made his way slowly towards Y/N, his face betraying a medley of conflicting emotions. She stood up from the bed, keeping a close eye on his expression in anticipation of what might happen next.

Their relationship was still new; they had met at a party thrown by a mutual friend who was also one of her teammates. That night, everything seemed to align perfectly for their chance encounter, and the initial spark of attraction quickly grew into something more profound. Through casual touches, shared smiles, and intimate conversations about their interests and preferences, they were building the fragile yet promising foundations of their relationship.

He paused, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the perfect words to express himself. She watched with curiosity, waiting for him to speak.

"Why didn't you let me overtake you?" Arthur asked, sounding unsure.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, trying to comprehend his question. She repeated it in her head, trying to understand the underlying meaning. "What do you mean?"

Arthur seemed annoyed by her confusion and scrunched his face in response. "In yesterday's race. I was right behind you, but you wouldn't move out of the way."

Her arms automatically crossed in front of her chest, her tone becoming defensive. She didn't like where this conversation was headed. "Why should I let you pass, Arthur? I don't remember breaking any rules to earn my spot."

Arthur released a frustrated sigh, feeling the tension between them escalating with each word they exchanged. He closed the distance between them, hoping to find some understanding in her eyes.

"I'm not accusing you of breaking any rules, cherie." His tone softened, attempting to diffuse the situation. "I just want to know why you didn't make room for me to pass. It seemed like you were intentionally blocking me."

Y/N felt the weight of Arthur's words as an accusation, and it only added to her growing frustration. She couldn't believe they were having this argument now, when there was so much at stake for both of them.

"Of course I was blocking you! We're competitors, remember?" Her voice was firm, but she laced it with a confused laugh. "My team needs those points. I need those points. Why would I let you have them?"

Arthur took a step back, caught off guard by the intensity of Y/N's response. He looked both surprised and disappointed, struggling to process her strong emotions.

"I just thought you would understand," he muttered, his voice trailing off as if he regretted speaking at all. Unable to meet her gaze, he turned away.

She felt a surge of anger within her, a mix of frustration and sadness. She was taken aback that Arthur would question her integrity on the track, especially considering their intimate relationship off of it.

"Understand?" She repeated, each word dripping with disbelief. "Arthur, I want that title just as much as you do. It's not my responsibility to make it easy for you or anyone else. You know that."

There was a tense moment of silence between them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at the feeling that something was unraveling between them, something that might never be fully repaired.

"I know," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of weakness. "But I thought we were more than just competitors."

Her expression softened briefly, a flicker of sadness crossing her features before she steeled herself with determination.

"Arthur, I can't sacrifice my career for our relationship," she said, her voice softening slightly. "We both knew what we were getting into when we started dating."

Arthur's voice turned defensive as he tried to justify his actions. "Don't you think it would have been better if I had won?" He glanced at his girlfriend, his eyes pleading for understanding. "You're still new to this category; there will be other chances for you."

She raised her eyebrows, her gaze unwavering and intense. "So, you're saying it would be acceptable for me to lose simply because I'm a rookie?" Her tone was sharp, like a blade cutting through the air.

Arthur paused, searching for the right words to explain himself. "No, that's not what I meant," he stammered, but Y/N cut him off.

"Did you give the same speech to all the other rookies too?" her sarcasm evident.

Arthur's discomfort flickered across his face before he turned back to meet her unwavering stare. "The other rookies aren't in a relationship with me," he retorted with a hint of harshness.

Y/N fell silent, digesting his words. Then, she stepped closer to him, locking eyes with determination.

"Tell me honestly, Arthur," she began calmly yet emotion thick in her voice. "Did you want me to let you win because I'm a rookie or because I'm your girlfriend?"

Her question hit Arthur like a punch to the gut, leaving him struggling to find the right words. He couldn't hide from the truth any longer.

"I…I'm not sure," he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper as uncertainty and vulnerability seeped through. "Maybe it's a bit of both."

Her expression hardened, her eyes showing disappointment and frustration in equal measure. She had expected more from him, hoped that he would acknowledge his own flaws and confront them head-on.

"So you don't trust me as a competitor, as a driver?" she asked, her voice betraying a slight tremor of emotion that she was trying to contain.

Arthur's heart raced as he met her intense gaze. He knew his words had hurt her and shattered the trust she had in him.

"That's not what I meant, cherie." He struggled to find the right words, but they sounded hollow even to his own ears. "It's just…I don't know how to handle the fact that you're better than me."

She was filled with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to scream at him, to tell him that his insecurities were not her responsibility and she couldn't sacrifice her own ambitions for his approval. But at the same time, she felt a twinge of empathy for him, understanding that his insecurity came from a place of deep vulnerability.

"Arthur, I can't change who I am because of your doubts," she said firmly. "And I won't apologize for excelling at what I do."

Arthur's voice took on a smooth, almost patronizing tone, a subtle edge of superiority laced within his words. "You must be feeling quite pleased with yourself, wouldn't you agree?" he mused, his tone carrying a delicate sting. "Stepping onto the stage as a rookie and quickly grabbing the spotlight. Impressive, definitely, but experience and dedication? Those are qualities that develop over time, babe."

Her brow furrowed slightly, a mix of disbelief and hurt flickering across her features. "I just want us to understand each other," she started, her tone gentle yet resolute. "I'm not trying to belittle what you've achieved. But it's not about placing blame. If you truly have the experience and talent you speak of, shouldn't overtaking me come as second nature, without needing to ask?"

Arthur's cheeks flushed with a sudden surge of anger, the tension between them palpable. "You underestimate what it takes to rise to the top," he retorted sharply, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Talent is one thing, but true success in this realm requires more than just skill. Experience is the key that sets winners apart from the rest."

Her eyes narrowed subtly, a flicker of impatience dancing within them. "What makes you assume I lack dedication and experience?" she questioned calmly, her tone holding a hint of challenge. "Just because my journey in this sport hasn't been as long as yours doesn't diminish the effort I've put in."

Arthur emitted a dry chuckle, his resentment barely concealed. "You've had quite the advantageous start, haven't you?" he remarked, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You believe your familial connections and wealth entitle you to success? Reality doesn't operate on such privileges."

Her hands tightened into fists, a surge of defiance coursing through her. She refused to let his patronizing remarks undermine her accomplishments. Her voice remained composed yet firm, slicing through the tension. "Privileges? It's ironic coming from someone who's thrived under their brother's shadow," she countered, her gaze ablaze with determination. "You stand there, relying on your average talent to compensate for the countless doors opened by your surname."

Arthur's complexion deepened with a flush, a blend of shame and anger twisting his expression. He despised the constant comparisons to his brother, weary of residing in his sibling's imposing shadow. This resentment fueled his determination to establish his identity.

"I'm not my brother," he snapped with intensity.

She met his gaze steadily, her defiance unyielding. "No, you're not. And that's the problem," she countered sharply, her tone slicing through the air.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, the air crackling with unspoken animosity as they stood facing each other. Her eyes burned with fury, her hands clenched tightly by her sides. She was done playing nice.

"I'm not carrying anyone's burdens," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "I have my own stuff to deal with. You don't like the fact that your girlfriend is better than you? Consider this problem solved."

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley , @stinkyjax , @namgification , @judespoision , @cha-hot , @disneyprincemuke , @itsjustkhaos , @trouble-sistar , @ihateyougunthersteiner , @treehouse-mouse , @cherry-piee , @fangirl125reader , @cassie0sstuff, @be-your-coffee-pot , @elijahslover , @flannelforthetoads , @m0cha-bunny , @ironmaiden1313 , @glitterquadricorn , @spideybv28 , @celesteblack08 , @thatgirlthatreadswattpad , @itscrzy, @canihavemyhoodieback , @eugene-emt-roe

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Ding dong, here’s the final chapter! I have an epilogue in mind so that may come later, but for now, Thanks  so so much for the response to this series and Enjoy!

Ch1 Ch2 Ch3

[talking] [talking passes]

Gai: You knew right away, didn’t you? Kka: Correct. I knew something was wrong when you weren’t trying to do situps or anything..... You little criminal, who smuggled that in for you? Gai: Naruto

Kks: How did you get him to do that? /I/ cant even get Naruto to do things. The tear tracks and shit eating grin are cute. Kinda wanna kiss you. Gai: Don’t let me be a hindrance to-

Gai: What are you giggling about? Kks: I just remembered

Kks: I get to hold over your head that I held mirai before you. Gai: You what?! Your first baby hold and I missed it? Get off of me Kks: So mean! Near death made you crabby. Gai: I won’t give into this Kks: You will, you always succumb. [gai sighs annoyed]

Gai: [Groans] When are they making you swear in as hokage? Kks: That’s not happening anymore thankfully. Gai: Huuuh?? Tenzou didn’t tell me that!

Gai: He said Lady Tsunade was retiring and you were the only choice. Naruto even tried to- Kks: Where do you think i’ve been all day? I convinced her to hold out until Naruto or whoever  took over next. Gai: How did you smooth talk that one? Kks: I agreed to do her paperwork and cover for when she needs R&R. I also advised her to ditch the elders so she can actually run this shit show right. Gai: And they... took that well? The elders? Kks: No, not at all. Let’s just say I said some... things that made them backtrack on their decision.

Gai: YOu cant just say that and not tell me now!! I gotta know! Kks: Well... Homura: Absolutely not! Kks: If I am appointed, I’ll be replacing you regardless. Naruto certainly will. It’s inevitable. Koharu: Those kids don’t know how this village runs!

Kks:Those kids just won your war and this is how you speak of them. Or are “those kids“ only respectable to you when they’re eager to die at your beckon call and shut up. Elders: How dare- Watch your tongue! Kks: I won’t be someone who you can walk all over. Things will change. Just so my intentions are clear

Gai: What next?! Kks: That’s is really. Kinda tuned the rest out and passed out for 3 hours. Gai: Rival, I was so invested Kks: Sorry Gai: So you agreed to essentially split the work of a hokage but not publicly take the title? Kks: Mhm Gai: So cool! Apologies, I had just assumes since you were gonna accept last time Kks:[hums] Things changed. Konoha’s not on the brink of war, Tsunade’s still here. The village can breathe and rebuild now.

Kks: After a glimpse of the hassle and public attention the last time, I’m just... Not interested in any of that. I’ve never dreamed or desired to be the hokage. That was always something others wanted /for/ me. So I said no. I know you were happy for me so- Gai: Kakashi

Gai: I’m so very proud of you for expressing how you truly feel. You and tsunade will do amazing work supporting the next generation. Even If you chose to retire today, I’d still be just as proud of you. Also a selfish part of me if happy to have more time with you. [kks huffs]

Kks: I’m proud of you too, y’ know. All your hard work, you’re fucking incredible. Glad my dad made me talk to the cool kid in the green jumpsuit. 2nd coolest shinobi. Gai: Only took 25 years, but I’ve finally caught your eye! Kks: Yup, let’s move in together.

Gai: WHAT?1 Whu-! Kks: I’m fixing up dad’s old house with Tenzou. you should live there with me Gai: Why? Kks: Why are yo suspicious? I’m serious. Space, accessibility for you... I want you around more. Gai: Ok Kks: Ok? Gai: An exciting change is just what my youthful journey needs!! Kks: So yes?

Gai: I would love to share a home with you, Rival [kks giggling] What now?

Kks: Did I just make you succumb, Gai-kun? Gai: When can we have a match next, I need to consensually slap you in the head [kks laughs] Why did you say it like that? Kks: I’m sorry! Your pout looks so cute.... You are still moving in with me, right? That wasnt a joke.

Gai: I’m gonna let you sweat on that one awhile... [whimpers]

Kks: Love you so much, Gai

[gai snoring]

[gai snoring]

[cosmiiwrites]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ without me?

.ೃ࿐ adam x fem!reader .ೃ࿐

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ summary: in which adam catches you masturbating to his voice mails cw: NSFW, fem!reader, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjobs, cussing a/n: viv please bring back my husband the kids miss him... also i feel like i kinda rushed this but fuck it we ball:3

fuck.

10:07 pm. the time was 10:07 pm, and adam still wasnt home yet. he’d been teasing you all morning before he went to his office for work, leaving you high and dry. and when he’d promised to make it up to you when he got back home from work at 9, he stood you up.

fuck it.

resting against your headboard, you scrolled through adam’s voice mails, holding the speaker to your ear as your other hand slithered its way over the fabric of your panties. you inhaled through your teeth as you felt the pads of your fingers meet the dampened cloth, rubbing featherlight circles over your arousal.

so what if you had gotten off without adam and wasnt in the mood to fuck him when he got home? it was his loss for arriving so late.

your fingers slid under the thin layer of your panties, running past your folds before dipping a finger in your aching hole. you threw your head back at the feeling. it was good; but not big enough to satisfy you like adam did. so you added another, pumping desperately as you played each voice mail, the sound of adam’s voice only spurring you on even more.

“hey babe, went to go get take out. text me what you want or im buying it all for myself,”

god, even when adam was saying the least sexiest things you could still feel yourself grow wetter at the sound of his voice.

“fuck,” you hissed, desperately bucking against your own fingers for relief. but it was clear; you couldnt get off without adam.

unbeknownst to you, adam had already arrived home, but with his voice mails on blast right next to your ear, you had failed to notice that.

hearing his own voice coming from your shared bedroom interested adam greatly.

cracking the door open, adam barely had time to react before all of his blood rushed to his cock. the sight before his was simply beautiful: you, with your legs spread open as you pumped yourself full with your fingers, his voice mails playing on full volume next to your ear with your head thrown back.

oh, adam was going to have fun with this.

“having fun without me? you wound me, baby.” adam’s voice cut through your little private session, and your phone dropped onto the pillow in surprise. instinctively, your fingers stop working against your soaked cunt. you whipped your head to the door, only to be greeted with the sight of adam lazily stroking his leaking cock.

“a-adam-“

“who told you to stop?”

your eyes widened in surprise at his blunt statement. “cmon, keep playing with that pretty pussy for me.” he licked his bottom lip, mask thrown somewhere in the room as he made his way over to the bed. "i wanna see how you take care of yourself when im not here to fuck you."

biting your lip, you continued the movements of your fingers, a soft moan of his name leaving your lips, all while staring directly at adam.

“fuck, you're so hot,” adam hissed. “so fucking wet, all because of my voice. fucking perfect.” he growled, taking his cock into his large palm and stroking at the sight of you.

“adam, please,” you whined. “what is it, baby? cant get off by yourself? need me to fill that greedy pussy of yours?” adam proposed, his tip beading with pre-cum.

you nodded vehemently, and that was all the confirmation adam needed before replacing your hand with his. skillfully, his thumb rubbed your swollen clit, pressed firmly as he traced along your syrupy folds, before slipping a finger into you. he watched in awe as it immediately coated his finger with slick. the sight went straight to his dick, which twitched in his hand.

this was much better than your smaller, slender hands. a choked gasp left your lips at his tortuous pace, your slick-covered hand immediately tending to his pulsing cock. but you were only-half focused on jerking him off, the sensation of his fingers pumping into you too overwhelming. "fuck, you can do better than that." adam chides, using his other hand to wrap around yours and squeezing, guiding you as you stroked his cock with a guttural groan. you were making a mess of his fingers, which were glistening each time they pulled out of you. pushing his ring finger in, his thumb stroked your aching clit, working twice as hard to send you over the edge. "p-please- ah! oh god, adam, dont stop," you pleaded desperately, his fingers relentless. "i wasnt going to," he replied gruffly, fingers moving intricately to work you towards your orgasm. adam began to buck into your hand, and thats when you knew he was close. the movement of his fingers grew sloppy, muttering curses under his breath.

inevitably, you felt your climax approach, thighs trembling. soon enough you were coming, walls squeezing the life out of his fingers, which were working you through your orgasm. "a-adam!" you cried. the sound of your voice moaning his name like that, was enough for adam to finish with a groan. "fu-uck," he grunted, thick ropes of cum coating your hand and his lower abdomen. adam pulled his fingers out of you slowly, practically salivating at the glistening substance that coated his skin. he slipped them easily into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as a groan erupted from his throat. you watched in awe, pupils dilated at the erotic sight. "fuck," he sighed, collapsing next to you on the bed. "so, my voice mails, huh?"

[noellefan101]

Not Replaceable

Characters: Alhaitham x GN reader

ft Kaveh and a weighted blanket(bc you can't tell me alhaitham wouldn't sleep with it, and that hes not autistic).

Warnings: not proofread, and definitley ooc but whatever

Note: this is heavily inspired by a fic i saw some months ago, but i cant remember their username and its kinda sad :(

he's been staring at your back for 30 minutes now, you seriously promised it would be dry tomorrow, its the best you can do.

"Haitham.. do you need anything?".

"you already know what i need…".

you looked at the man, and you sweared he looked like a kicked puppy, all because you had to wash his blanket today. you feel sorry for him, but it had to be done.

"yes, i do. but you can't sleep with a," you tried once again to convince him "a big wet piece of cloth" to just try and sleep without it.

"you could also just take multible blankets and stack them, or try to be a normal person like the rest of us" ah, Kaveh walked in, probably to get another cup of coffee, and to annoy Haitham as usual.

"not the same" Alhaitham said almost immediately after Kaveh had spoke, "it doesn't weigh enough, all the ones we have are too light for me to do that" you guess he's right, since it isn't the best to have too many layers of warmth in sumeru's heat.

you and alhaitham dont have that many blankets combined anyway, unless Kaveh woul- "alright! whatever, just dont take all mine like you did last time!" guess he already said no to that option then.

"i didn't take all of yours, just a few, you still had one left" i mean, he is kind of right, as much as you didnt want to agree with that at the moment.

"uggghhh… im going now, solve that yourselves" Kaveh spoke, walking out of the room with a new coffee mug in hand.

"love, are you sure you dont want to just try with the multible blankets?" you wanted to try just one more time, even though you were sure it wasnt going to actually convince him.

"yes" alright, then you dont have any other ideas. so you tried to brainstorm some more, though none would fix the actual problem at hand.

"i could make you some tea? or you could jsut read until you feel tired?" you wanted to help him so bad, but nothing just seemed like it would work. since yours was way too light, and you cant really go out and buy another on eofr him right now.

and his still shouldn't be dry enough to use. "no" he said as you gave out a sigh, you wanted so badly to give up on trying to find a replacement. but you still couldn't let yourself do it, you still wanted to help him actually sleep today.

"are you… sure nothing can work as a replacement, even just for today?" you're sure you looked so defeated at the moment, but it didn't matter now.

"…" silence huh? maybe he's thinking about it, or maybe he gave up as well. you cant really tell, and you're too tired to try understand what's behind those pretty eyes right now.

so you guess you should just-"lay on me" did you hear that right?? "what?" you cant do anything but question him. too focused on figuring what he was trying to do, or if you heard the wrong thing.

"i know you heard me, lay on me" so you weren't just hearing his words incorrectly, "but why would that help?".

"you weigh about enough to work as a weighted blanket" you looked at him surprised, "…excuse me?" you cant help but feel a little annoyed at him. although you knew what he meant know.

"i didn't mean it like that, i swear" he quickly spoke back. coming closer to you, looking worried that he had used the wrong words.

"its okay, im messing with you. i know you wouldn't actually mean it like that" you smiled smugly, letting out a little whimper as he picked you up without warning.

you looked up at him, confused, "i-i," you stuttered out yet couldnt finish the sentence before you felt him pull you in closer to him. "i can walk on my own you know!" it wasnt quite what you had wanted to say, but it would do.

he just looked at you and shrugged then put you gently down on the bed, and then he was laying beside you the moment it had come to you that he put you down.

you both looked right at each other once again, now face to face, in a silence you couldnt quite say was nice but it wasnt unpleasant either. well before he spoke up anyway, "are you going to move or do i have to?".

"huh?" you had already forgot why you were back in your bedroom by now, too focused on his eyes to care at the moment. "okay, i'll lift you up then" oh right, that it why you're here.

"sorry, w-wait atleast give me a warning first!" you wimpered out quickly as he took you up by your torso and put you down onto his chest. "i did give you a warning." you pouted at that.

"not a good enough warning, smartass" you clearly tried to sound stern, as if it mattered at all. but by the way your lips curled up and you just cuddled in closer to him, you clearly didnt mind.

it had been about 10 minutes by now, and you were fast asleep, although alhaitham wasnt quite yet. he was tired, yes, but maybe he had focused too much on you being right there than actually sleeping.

he wasnt complaining, dont get me wrong, but maybe it wasnt the smartest to have you on him when he wasnt suposed to focus on you. you just looked so pretty all curled up on his chest while still trying to cover him up as much as you could, even in your dreams.

he will fall asleep soon, just let him enjoy your sleeping form a little longer.

and yes, he should get a second weighted blanket, but he won't. because he now hopes gets to enjoy a moment like this every time the blanket has to be washed.

thx for reading, this is a very weird whatever but im trying to cook something up i just cant cook rn-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts