#i really need to get back and snap some new ones

[pucksandpower]

Malfunction

Franco Colapinto x physician!Reader

Summary: Franco’s concussion has come and gone, but his desire to see the angel of a physician who likely saved his life has only gotten stronger … it’s just a shame that he tends to lose any semblance of composure when you’re around

Note: this is the much requested second part to Malpractice … but even better than the first part if I do say so myself 🫣

The Las Vegas Grand Prix is a distant blur in Franco’s memory. The crash. The pain. The disorientation.

But there’s something else that lingers, too. Something soft that refuses to leave him alone.

It’s the image of you, kneeling in front of him, your hands steady even as his world spun. Your voice cutting through the haze, your gaze sharp and intense, demanding his attention. The way you pushed him to stay alert, to pay attention, to focus on something other than the chaos in his head.

Franco knows he owes his sanity, maybe even his life, to you.

It’s been a week since the crash, and he’s been cleared by the medical team to race again in Qatar, despite a lingering headache that’s been stubbornly hanging on. But it’s not the headache that’s bothering him. It’s the fact that you’re not here. You’re not at the track. Not in the garage. Not hovering over him like some kind of guardian angel.

He wants to see you again. Needs to.

He’s sitting in the Williams debrief room, surrounded by engineers who are talking a mile a minute about tire wear and lap times. But Franco is barely listening. He keeps checking his phone, hoping for some sort of miracle: a text, a call, anything that might tell him you’re here. That you’ve returned to the paddock.

But the screen stays empty.

“Franco, are you with us?” James Vowles’ voice cuts through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry,” Franco mutters, rubbing his eyes. “What were you saying about tire strategy?”

James raises an eyebrow. “It’s fine. Focus on your recovery. We’re just going over the data from today’s practice. You’ve got time. But-” He looks around, making sure no one else is listening, “-don’t be distracted during qualifying tomorrow. We need every bit of performance we can get from you this weekend.”

“Right.” Franco nods, but his mind drifts again, his gaze slipping back to his phone. It’s like the rhythm of the weekend has been broken without you here, without the sharpness of your voice telling him he’s being an idiot, without your soft, steady presence making everything feel a little more manageable.

A soft knock sounds at the door, and Alex steps in, his casual smile immediately making the room feel a little lighter. His eyes flicker over to Franco. “How’s it going, mate?”

Franco immediately perks up. “Alex! You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He straightens up in his chair, suddenly interested in the conversation.

Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that because you’ve missed me, or because I bring good news?”

“Both,” Franco grins. “But seriously, I’ve been thinking about something, and I need your help.”

Alex folds his arms, giving Franco a knowing look. “Uh oh. What have you gotten yourself into now?”

“It’s about Y/N,” Franco says, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t seem too surprised. He sighs, already knowing where this is headed. “Ah, I should’ve known.”

“No, listen,” Franco presses, his voice a little more serious. “I need her to come to Abu Dhabi. She has to be there. I-” He pauses, trying to put his feelings into words. “I’ve been thinking about her all week. I just … I need to see her again.”

Alex raises both hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You want me to convince her to come to a race just so you can see her again?”

Franco shrugs, looking entirely unapologetic. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

Alex shakes his head, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. “You really have it bad, don’t you?”

Franco hesitates, his smile faltering just slightly, then nods. “I do.” His expression softens. “She helped me when I didn’t even know what was happening. I’ve never had someone take care of me like that.”

Alex takes a moment, studying Franco’s face, then lets out a long breath. “Look, I can’t make any promises. Y/N’s a resident physician. Her schedule is insane. She barely has time to breathe, let alone fly out to the Middle East for a race. But-” He hesitates, as if weighing his next words carefully. “But I’ll ask her. I’ll see what I can do. But no promises, okay?”

“Just ask,” Franco says urgently. “I don’t care if it’s a long shot. I need her there.”

Alex chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll ask. But you owe me a beer if this works.”

“You got it,” Franco grins, already feeling the relief of having put his request into motion. “Thanks.”

***

It’s late by the time you’re wrapping up your shift at the hospital. The weight of your scrubs feels heavier than usual tonight, your body aching after hours of rounds and consultations. You’ve barely slept all week, the demands of your residency taking up every last ounce of energy. All you want to do now is crash into bed and forget about the world for a few hours.

But then your phone buzzes in your pocket, and the familiar name on the screen makes you stop in your tracks.

Alex.

You sigh, glancing around the empty hallway before answering. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”

“Hey,” Alex greets you, his tone casual but there’s a hint of something else in his voice. “How’s it going?”

You roll your eyes, leaning against the wall. “You know, same old. Patients, paperwork, more patients. I swear, I’m starting to see people’s illnesses in my dreams at this point. What’s up?”

“Well, funny you should mention that,” Alex says with a chuckle, “because I’ve got a bit of a favor to ask.”

You brace yourself. “What now?”

“I need you to come to Abu Dhabi.”

There’s a beat of silence. “What? No. I can’t just drop everything and fly to Abu Dhabi. You know how insane my schedule is right now.”

“I know, I know,” Alex says quickly. “But listen, it’s not for me. It’s for Franco.”

You blink, unsure if you heard him right. “Franco? What does he have to do with this?”

“He, uh, well, he’s been asking about you. He really wants you to come. He … he kind of needs you there, Y/N.”

You frown. “Needs me? What, like for a medical emergency?”

“No, no,” Alex quickly reassures you. “It’s not like that. He’s just — he’s been a bit, you know, off since the crash. He keeps talking about how much you helped him, how much he needs to see you again. He’s … kinda, well, taken with you.”

You pause, processing the unexpected request. “Wait. You want me to go to Abu Dhabi just to … see Franco?”

Alex sighs. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I totally get it if you can’t make it. I just thought I’d put it out there, because he’s really … well, he’s really worried about seeing you again.”

You take a deep breath, staring at the floor. There’s a tug at your chest. Franco’s crash. The way he looked when he stumbled into the garage, his eyes unfocused, his voice thick with concussion. And how you couldn’t help but care, couldn’t help but feel something stir in your chest as you took care of him.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I don’t know if I can get time off. I’ve got a million things to do.”

“Please,” Alex pleads, his tone sincere. “Just think about it. I’ll take care of the rest. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just — just come for the weekend. For him.”

You hesitate for a long moment. Your exhaustion is overwhelming, but so is the pull to be there for Franco, to check in on him after everything that happened.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Alex lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to him.”

“I’ll talk to my supervisor tomorrow and see if I can get a couple of days off. I’ll let you know.”

“Great. I’ll keep you posted. Thanks again, really.”

As the call ends, you press the phone to your ear, staring at the blank hospital hallway. Something in your chest stirs, a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite name. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get involved with any of these drivers. But Franco … there’s something about him. Something you can’t shake.

You don’t know what’s going to happen in Abu Dhabi. But you know one thing for sure: you’re going to see him again.

***

Franco is buzzing with energy as he walks away from the Williams garage after FP2. The track is alive with its usual Friday hum: team radios squawking, mechanics wheeling equipment, fans pressing against barricades for a glimpse of the action. Normally, this is his favorite part of the weekend — the calm between sessions when he can breathe and think through what’s next.

But today, his thoughts are miles away.

You.

Alex told him you’d agreed to come. He’s spent all week mentally preparing for this moment, imagining what he’ll say when he sees you again. He’d told himself he’d play it cool. That he wouldn’t come off as desperate or weird. That he’d be charming and effortless.

And now, as he walks toward the Williams motorhome, he’s running through those lines in his head like a script. But then, through the glass doors of the motorhome, he spots you.

You’re sitting at a table with Lily, wine glasses between you. You’re mid-laugh, one hand lightly gesturing, the other wrapped around the stem of your glass. The sound of your laugh doesn’t reach him, but your expression — warm and animated — is enough to stop him in his tracks.

Franco stares, frozen. For a second, he’s not a professional driver or a smooth-talking twenty-one-year-old. He’s just a guy, floored by the sight of someone he’s been thinking about far too much.

And then, because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, he walks straight into the glass door.

The sound is embarrassingly loud — a deep, resonant thud that draws the attention of a couple of mechanics nearby. Franco stumbles back, clutching his forehead as the door wobbles slightly on its hinges.

“Oh, come on,” he mutters under his breath, blinking rapidly to clear the stars dancing in his vision.

Inside, Lily gasps, already half out of her chair. But you — you just press a hand to your mouth, visibly trying to suppress a laugh.

Franco pushes the door open this time (successfully, thank God) and steps into the motorhome, trying to salvage whatever remains of his dignity.

“Didn’t know the motorhome was defending itself today,” he says, flashing a crooked grin as he rubs his forehead.

You’re still smiling, but there’s a glint in your eyes as you take a sip of wine. “I see you’re still finding creative ways to injure yourself.”

Lily, standing now, gives him a once-over. “Are you okay? That sounded bad.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Franco says quickly, though he’s still holding his head. “Just testing the structural integrity of the door. Very solid. Great engineering.”

Lily rolls her eyes, muttering something about grabbing an ice pack before disappearing into the kitchen.

You lean back in your chair, tilting your head as you look at him. “You know, you really don’t have to keep hurting yourself just to get my attention. There are easier ways.”

Franco blinks, momentarily thrown off by the teasing edge in your voice. But then he recovers, his grin widening. “Oh, so you noticed me, huh? Mission accomplished.”

You arch an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Hard not to notice when someone face-plants into a door.”

“Ouch,” Franco says, clutching his chest dramatically. “First my head, now my ego. You’re ruthless.”

You laugh, setting your glass down. “I’m a doctor. I call it like I see it.”

“And what do you see?” He asks, leaning casually against the doorframe (or at least trying to — he slightly misjudges the angle and has to correct himself, which makes him look anything but casual).

“I see someone who might need another concussion test if they keep this up,” you say dryly, though there’s a hint of amusement in your tone.

Franco seizes the opening. “Oh, you’ll give me a test? What, right here? Should I sit down? Or maybe lie down? Whatever you need, angel, I’m ready.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch. “I’m off-duty, thank you very much. And stop calling me angel.”

“Why? It suits you,” Franco says without missing a beat. He steps closer, his grin turning just a bit sheepish. “You did save me, after all.”

“From driving with a concussion,” you reply, crossing your arms.

“Still counts,” he says, shrugging. “So … you’re really here. Thought maybe Alex was messing with me.”

You tilt your head, watching him carefully. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, for fun? He likes to mess with me,” Franco says, his grin turning rueful. “But I’m glad he wasn’t. It’s … it’s good to see you.”

Your expression softens, and you glance down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “It’s good to see you too.”

For a moment, there’s a silence between you. Not awkward, but charged. Franco shifts his weight, scratching the back of his neck. He’s been preparing for this moment all week, but now that you’re standing in front of him, he’s at a loss.

Lily reappears then, an ice pack in hand. She tosses it to Franco, who catches it against his chest. “Here,” she says. “For the door-shaped bruise you’re probably going to have.”

“Thanks,” Franco says, pressing the pack to his forehead. He winces slightly but keeps his gaze on you.

Lily looks between the two of you, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to laugh. “Well, I’ll leave you two to … whatever this is,” she says, grabbing her glass and retreating toward the other end of the motorhome.

Franco watches her go, then looks back at you, his smile softening. “So … you’re here for the whole weekend?”

You nod. “Lily convinced me to stay. Said I needed a break.”

“You do,” Franco says quickly. “Definitely. Big time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because …” Franco hesitates, then decides to go for it. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Vegas.”

You blink, caught off guard by his honesty. “Franco-”

“I’m serious,” he interrupts, stepping closer. “I know I’m probably coming off like a total idiot right now, but I don’t care. You-” He gestures vaguely, as if struggling to find the right words. “You’re different. You’re not like anyone else here.”

“That’s because I’m not supposed to be here,” you say, your tone light but your eyes searching his. “I’m a doctor, Franco. Not meant for … whatever this world is.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. “You could be anything, and I’d still want to know you. You’re …” He trails off, then laughs at himself. “God, I’m bad at this.”

You laugh too, finally relaxing. “A little, yeah.”

“But I’m trying,” he says, his expression earnest now. “And I’ll keep trying, even if it means walking into more doors. Or walls. Or whatever else gets in my way.”

You shake your head, exasperated but undeniably charmed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously into you,” Franco counters, grinning.

You groan, but your smile betrays you. “Stop. That was awful.”

“Was it?” Hr teases, leaning just slightly closer.

“Yes,” you say firmly, though there’s a hint of laughter in your voice. “And I’m not letting you use your injuries as an excuse to flirt with me.”

“Then what excuse should I use?” He asks, tilting his head.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now. “How about none? Just be normal.”

“Normal,” Franco repeats, as if testing the word. “Okay. I can do that. Probably.”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” you say, but your tone is lighter now, your guard lowering just a fraction.

Franco grins, sensing the shift. He might not be smooth, but he’s persistent. And right now, that feels like enough.

***

The hospital hums with its usual rhythm: the sharp beeps of monitors, the steady shuffle of footsteps, and the occasional murmur of voices echoing down sterile hallways. You’re halfway through your shift, mentally cataloging a growing to-do list, when one of the nurses finds you near the break room.

She looks far too amused for your liking, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Hey, Doc,” she says, her tone conspiratorial. “You’ve got a patient in Room 43. Interesting case. File’s by the door.”

You glance up from your notes, immediately suspicious. “Interesting how?”

“Let’s just say … not your usual trauma,” she replies, her grin widening. “Go see for yourself.”

With a sigh, you grab your tablet and head down the hallway. You’re too tired to entertain the nurse’s cryptic humor, but curiosity tugs at you anyway. When you reach Room 43, you spot the chart hanging by the door. You pick it up and start skimming, your brain automatically processing the medical shorthand.

And then your eyes land on the complaint: penile fracture.

You freeze. Your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds.

Penile fracture. Seriously? You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to laugh or groan. It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare enough to make your day a little more … colorful.

Squaring your shoulders, you prepare yourself for what’s undoubtedly going to be an awkward encounter. Professionalism, you remind yourself. You’ve handled weirder cases.

But all of that resolve shatters the second you open the door and step into the room.

Because the patient isn’t some anonymous stranger.

It’s Franco.

Franco, lounging on the exam table like he doesn’t have a care in the world, scrolling through his phone with his free hand. Franco, the same man you’ve been dating for months, who absolutely should not be in this hospital room right now.

Your mouth opens, ready to deliver your standard introduction, but no words come out.

Franco looks up at the sound of the door, his face breaking into that familiar, devilish grin. “Hey, angel.”

“What the-” You stop yourself, gripping the edge of the clipboard like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. “Franco, what are you doing here?”

He sets his phone down, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m a patient. Clearly.”

You take a deep breath, setting the clipboard aside. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope.” He leans back slightly, gesturing toward himself with both hands. “Broken dick. You saw the file.”

Your jaw tightens as you step closer, lowering your voice. “Franco, this is a hospital. You can’t just-”

“I didn’t just anything,” he cuts in, feigning indignation. “I’m here because you abandoned me this morning. And now I’m suffering.”

You blink at him, completely thrown. “Suffering?”

“Yes!” He says, sitting up straighter, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays any attempt at seriousness. “You left me. Alone. In bed. With …” He lowers his voice dramatically. “An issue.”

Your brain scrambles to keep up. “An issue?”

Franco sighs, as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “Blue balls. A raging, unresolved situation. You’re a doctor — you know how dangerous that can be.”

“Dangerous?” Your voice rises slightly before you catch yourself. “Franco, I left because I had to come to work. Like a normal person.”

“Right, but normal people don’t leave their boyfriends high and dry,” he argues, his tone edging into the realm of petulant. “Do you know how much it hurts? It’s practically a medical emergency.”

You close your eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So let me get this straight,” you say slowly. “You’re here because you have blue balls. And instead of — oh, I don’t know — handling it with your hand and some lotion like a grown adult, you decided to come to my workplace and waste everyone’s time?”

“I don’t see it as wasting time,” Franco says, crossing his arms. “I see it as seeking expert care. From a very qualified, very beautiful doctor.”

“Franco,” you say warningly, but he’s already grinning.

“Besides,” he continues, his voice dropping into a teasing lilt, “don’t you think it’s romantic? I’m literally willing to suffer for you.”

“Oh my God.” You press a hand to your forehead, feeling a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You are not suffering. And this is not romantic — it’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously sweet,” Franco counters, clearly enjoying himself.

You stare at him, torn between wanting to strangle him and laugh. “You know I could get in trouble for this, right? What if someone finds out I’m treating my boyfriend? Or worse, that you’re faking a medical emergency?”

“I’m not faking,” he says quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “The pain in my cock is very real.”

“Franco.” Your voice is flat, and you fix him with your best no-nonsense look.

He hesitates for a beat, then leans forward slightly, lowering his voice like he’s about to confess something scandalous. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a fracture. But it is painful!”

You throw your hands up, resisting the urge to laugh despite yourself. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

Franco pouts, his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated fashion. “Come on, angel. Don’t be mad. I just wanted to see you.”

“You couldn’t have waited until my shift was over?”

He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m impatient. And in my defense, you looked very cute leaving this morning.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me,” he says, his grin widening.

“Don’t push your luck,” you warn, though there’s no real bite in your tone.

Franco leans back on the exam table, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who just disrupted your workday. “So … are you gonna examine me or what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you want me to call security? Because that’s where this is headed.”

“You wouldn’t,” he says, his confidence unwavering.

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Franco holds your gaze for a moment, then sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. No exam. But only because I value our relationship.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, not even trying to hide your sarcasm.

He grins again, the kind of grin that’s always been your undoing. “You can’t stay mad at me, angel. Admit it.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts. “Franco, you’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, you’d be on your way out of here in handcuffs.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he smirks. “Kinky.”

“Oh, for the love of-” You don’t bother finishing the sentence, turning toward the door instead.

“Wait, wait!” Franco calls after you, sliding off the exam table. “I’m kidding! Don’t go!”

You pause, looking back at him. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, his expression softer now. “Seriously,” he says. “I just … I missed you. And I thought maybe this would make you laugh. Or at least roll your eyes. Which it did, so … mission accomplished?”

You sigh, feeling your resolve waver. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s looking at you like that — like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

“Franco,” you say, your voice quieter now. “You can’t just show up like this. I have a job to do.”

“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “And I promise I won’t make a habit of it. But … can I take you to dinner after your shift? As an apology?”

You study him for a moment, weighing your options. Finally, you let out a small sigh. “Fine. But only if you promise to behave.”

“I promise,” he says quickly, holding a hand over his heart.

“And no more faking injuries,” you add, pointing a finger at him.

“Scout’s honor,” he says, though the mischievous glint in his eye suggests otherwise.

You shake your head, exasperated but smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, you keep me around,” he says, grinning.

“For now,” you say, opening the door. “Now get out of here before someone sees you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Franco says, saluting playfully as he follows you into the hallway.

As he walks away, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Ridiculous as he is, there’s no denying that life with Franco is never boring.

[screamlet]

wip wednesday (bucktommy fix-it edition)

a longer eddie+tommy excerpt from this wip that's getting out of control. some context: tommy has shaved off his hair in the gay heartbreak tradition of our people.

---

Tommy knows he's a creature of habit, but it's still disquieting to discover that sometimes people learn his habits. For example: Tommy regularly likes to hit up one specific cozy restaurant on his free nights and have dinner at the bar, him and a book. Sometimes he'd strike up a conversation with someone at the bar but, most of the time, he had his quiet, familiar corner at the bar with a drink or two, his dinner, and whatever he was reading that week.

Tonight, someone buys him his beer and that someone is Eddie, who's sitting across the bar from him when he arrives. He toasts to Tommy, then gets out of his seat and comes around to sit with him.

"Thanks for the beer," Tommy replies. "So what's going on?"

"Just checking in. You've been quiet."

Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. "Huh. Have I? I wonder."

For a second, Eddie's look is scathing, and then sympathetic, genuine. "How are you doing?"

He imagined the briefest cartoonish image where he tips his head back and chugs the entire beer in one go, but it takes so long that Eddie sighs and leaves. He thinks about doing something that dumb for longer than he should before he does the adult thing and shrugs a shoulder at him. "Just fine, how about you?"

Eddie tilts his head 90 degrees, like he's had his neck snapped. "Just fine? You break up with your boyfriend of six months and—hey, Tommy? Should I mention the hair? Or the lack of it?"

Tommy smiles broadly; his face aches to be this fake, but he used to be a pro at it. "I thought I'd try something new." He takes another sip. "Thanks for the beer. Does Buck know you're here? Crossing enemy lines?"

"Wow, he said you called him Buck and I didn't believe him, but you really did that." Eddie shudders. "Stop doing that. And what enemy lines? We're friends, idiot."

Tommy gives him a playful look. "Come on. No we're not. You're his best friend. You don't need to pretend. I get it."

Eddie clears his throat. "You know Buck can have more than one friend at the same time?"

"And he does," Tommy assures him. "He's got you and the whole 118, his sister, everyone who's connected with you guys. He's good. I'm good. We're good."

"Tommy, listen." Eddie shifts in his seat and leans in closer. "Show me a real emotion in the next 10 seconds or I'll punch your cheekbones into your skull for leading on my best friend for six months. He cares about you, Tommy. Do you have any idea how much? I thought you did. He took it seriously—did you?"

He considers Eddie carefully and then looks away. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm doing okay. I cared about him a lot, too, and now we've broken up. It happens. Thanks for checking on me. You don't have to do that anymore."

It's quiet between them for a minute, then another. Tommy puts in his dinner order and motions to Eddie, who shakes his head and says he doesn't want anything. Tommy leans back in his seat and that's when he starts to sweat. If Eddie's just going to sit there and watch him, wait him out, then Eddie's going to win. Tommy's good at this, great at faking it until he makes it, but it's—it's hard to sit under the microscope for this long, especially when Eddie seems to have nothing but time on his hands and nothing to do but wait for Tommy to crack.

"I'm not here to get you guys back together," Eddie finally says. "I really am here to see how you're doing. I see Buck at work; I don't see you, but I want to keep seeing you. I want us to be friends, no matter what happens between the two of you."

Tommy laughs. "God, and why would you want that? You've got better things to do with your time. Seriously, go call your kid or something."

"His name is Christopher, Tommy, and get his name out of your mouth if that's how you feel about him, about me and him."

Tommy nods, apologetic. "Sorry. But I do mean it: I free you of your obligation."

Eddie's quiet again and says, with even more disbelief, "You don't want to be my friend anymore? And don't call me a child, Tommy, I'm serious. You know adults have friends, too, right? And sometimes people break up and the world keeps turning and we can still be friends, you and me. You and Chim, you and Hen, even Bobby will come around because he likes you. You're still Tommy."

"I don't think that's how you guys work," Tommy says. "I don't think anyone stays in your circle without Buck tying them there. Maybe you and I can meet up for basketball, spar at the gym, hang out at my place, but I'm telling you that's a lot of work and you don't have to do it."

"I never had to do it, Tommy," Eddie replies. "I wanted to because I wanted to be your friend. You are my friend, and Buck isn't gonna change that."

Tommy laughs dryly and looks away. "He changes everything, Eddie."

[carame1bunny]

‎ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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The beginning of something, yay! I really hope you like it and I’ll try to write as fast as I can. I want the chapters to be way longer, so I’m going to try working on it! Enjoy! xx Bunny

warning: none, maybe Alastor being a cocky bitch:)

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Alastor didn’t even know how he ended up here. Sitting in his car and driving to the loveliest jazz bar in New Orleans, The Red Magnolia, his favorite. Rosie, an old and dear friend of his, has recommended him to a manager, even though he didn't ask for it. He wasn’t interested in making any deals, but went to the “meeting” for her sake.

He knew he had a way with people, so he could have easily succeeded in business, however, his heart was always set on radio. Even when he was a little kid, putting on a show for his mother and pretending to be a radio host, his microphone consisted of a stick and a rock stuck to it with a few layers of cheap tape. Well, he was a real one now— the best one in all of Louisiana at that. Yet, it was sometimes good to make some investments and add to his wealth. After all, money opened doors charisma alone could not.

The humid air carried the familiar scent of lingering perfumes and magnolias, it was spring after all. There was no spring in New Orleans without magnolias. The distant hum of the city was mingling with the sound of his engine.

He snapped out of his thoughts when his eyes began recognizing the area around the bar. The streetlights cast long shadows, and the chatter of late-night revelers grew louder. It was busier than usual, which made him frown. He hoped that it wouldn’t get too popular, he didn’t need people recognizing him left and right whenever he came here. It was lovely to speak to his listeners and hear them praise his hard work, but not when he came here to have one or two glasses of rye and look for his next victim. That, he preferred to do in peace.

He parked his car and made his way in through the back room. The young woman cleaning in the back immediately perked up and went to stand in front of him.

“W-welcome, Mr.Leblanc!” She stood rigidly, clutching her cleaning cloth like a lifeline. He towered over the girl, who was obviously very flustered by it. He smiled smugly, pleased when he was able to make the ladies blush and stammer. And he loved when men were nervous around him, afraid of his words that could shatter their fragile little egos.

“Mr.Devereux is waiting for you in his office.” She fidgeted with the hem of her uniform. “Shall I lead you the way?” She looked up at him. She was pouting her lips, trying to make them look plushier, and tried to open her eyes up wider. It was pathetic.

“Thank you, buttercup.” He flashed a grin, and stepped aside to go up the stairs. The somewhat little bar had a decoration that was just perfectly his taste— dark red, black and gold. The warm, flickering glow of candlelight danced against the rich walls, giving the place an intimate, almost theatrical ambiance. The jazz band’s music filtered through the floor, it made him smile. Jazz had always brought him comfort, and it was his Mama’s favorite. He paused for a moment on the landing, letting the smooth rhythm of the music fill his senses. The black door of Mr.Devereux’s office taunted him, he reminded himself that he won’t let Rosie talk him into any more crap.

After a quick composing of himself, he knocked and stepped in slowly. Mr.Devereux was a short little man well into his forties; his head was balding and his body rounding. He kinda reminded Alastor of a garden gnome. He stood up fastly, nearly stumbling over his own feet, at least he wouldn’t have a big fall.

“Mr.LeBla—”

“Just Alastor.”

“Alastor, in that case… Just call me Rob, I’m very pleased that you were able to make it!” He shook his hand with the little man and smiled tightly when he felt the man’s sweaty palm. It made sense, he was awfully nervous, and could barely look Alastor in the eye. He recognized this kind of nervousness in men. Sweaty palms, red faces and the constant furrow of their brows, it was the matter of money. “Brandy?” Rob offered, his own glass already filled to the rim. He mumbled a ‘sure’, and sat down on the chair that sat before Rob’s desk. Once delivered, he sipped at his brandy and hummed at the burn in his throat.

Once he fell back in his seat, Rob spoke. “I was glad when Rosie told me your name, after I burdened her with my troubles.” He chuckled, his chubby fingers massaging his most likely aching temples. “Look, I’m going to cut to the chase, because it’s awfully urgent.” Great, Alastor thought, let’s get this over with.

“There’s this lady…Y/N Valmont. We have gotten her half a year ago. Her face is real pretty, voice like a siren. However, we cannot afford to keep her. Even though people adore her, the bars pay way less for her time.” He swallowed his brandy in one go and continued as soon as the liquor went down. “Mostly because she's a woman, and because she’s unmarried, they expect her to… how can I say this nicely? Do you understand?

Alastor was at a loss, he had no idea what this had to do with him and why “No, Mr.Devereux, I don’t know what you mean. Care to explain?” He had an idea what the proposition was, but he wanted to hear it from Rob’s mouth.

“They expect her to whore herself out, kiss the ass of the male audience. And obviously, she refuses to, stubborn little lady she is, but she can be real sweet when she wants to b—“ Al silenced him by putting a hand up. The other man immediately retorted back into his chair and straightened his back.

Now he spoke what he had on my mind the whole time since he stepped in the Red Magnolia. “What does this have to do with me? I am nothing, but a radio host.” Being humble was always a safe way to go in his opinion.

“Alastor, you have power, you are heard by all of New Orleans. And I have heard that take part in investments from time to time, she could be your greatest investment.” He was stumbling over his words, a new layer of sweat formed on his reddish face.

“If she says she doesn’t want to be courted around, then what would change if I “bought” her from you?” Alastor crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat. There was a somewhat awkward silence in the office, the only thing that was heard was the jazz sneaking up and through the floorboards. He could also nearly hear the gears turning in the other man’s head, he was really thinking hard about how to say his next few words.

“Well, people will eventually know that you’re her sponsor and gossip will come around. They will assume you’re courting her and that’s it. No one will expect her to whore herself around. All you have to do is sponsor her, pay for her numbers, her dresses and everything that helps her doll up. I would say… 80 percent, and we will pay the rest. We will manage her, and you just pay.”

He was confused, and just a tad angry. “Then what?” He raised an eyebrow. His lips were stuck in a grin.

“Then, once people accept that she does fool around with a man, especially New Orleans’ beloved radio host, they pay her and us properly, at least we hope so.”

They talked about details, and he thought… Fuck it. It wasn’t a lot of money, at least to him. Even if the plan failed, he would get the money back from the Red Magnolia, and it would bring him more attention.

“So, when can we expect you to decide?”

Alastor chuckled and offered his hand. “I’m in.” He never did anything like this, never acted so spontaneous, he always thought things like this through. But, a good deal is a good deal.

They shook hands, and while Mr.Devereux was working out the paperwork, Alastor decided to head down to the bar. The bar had three floors, the ground floor, where the stage was, around it the dancefloor along with tables with their seats, and of course the counter in the corner. The second and third floor were only balconies, the second had even more tables and sofas, it was more of a section where the guests could talk. The third was only used for the offices, no guests were allowed up there, there was barely any lighting even, only some oil lamps on the walls. The band was playing a soft tune, and people were dancing. His eyes got stuck on a couple. A girl with reddish hair and adorable freckles was resting her arms on the shoulders of, most-likely, her lover, a man with black curly hair. He recognized the lady, she sometimes played the piano right here in this very bar, her long and toned fingers telling the truth of her life’s passion. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the way they were looking into one another’s eyes, their sparkling gazes and soft grins told him everything he had to know. His eyes suddenly picked up a glint on the girl’s finger, a diamond ring. Now that he was looking at the young woman, he could see it. The very bottom of her abdomen was rounding up, her hips softer than usual and a light glow adorning her face.

In moments like this he wished he lived a normal life, a life where he could have fallen in love with a girl, marry her and eventually have a little one of his own. Maybe that way… he could have made his Ma prouder of him. However, he quickly snapped out of it. He didn’t care about all that, no woman could compete with the love he had for radio and the thrill of taking a human life. He wasn’t meant to settle down, or have a child, no.

He looked at everyone’s faces, but no one could see him, he couldn’t blame them, even he himself was struggling to see up there. However, as his eyes roamed around, they caught another pair. He felt his chest tighten for a second, his gaze caught another. Sleek updo and a pink dress. A young woman, who was sipping her cocktail and ignoring the seemingly cocky guy talking to her. She had the sweetest face he ever saw, shy smile and big doe eyes.

Suddenly, Mr.Devereux came up beside him, putting the papers in front of him. He was forced to rip his eyes away from her, so he could read through the contract. It took him quite some minutes to finish reading, he could feel her eyes still lingering on him. While he didn’t date, he enjoyed being around the ladies, they were either his dearest friends or his toys. Maybe this new little skylark could be useful to entertain him, until he gets bored, of course. Once finished, he saw how everything was written as they agreed on.

“So, are you satisfied?” Mr.Devereux asked, motioning to the contract. Alastor got his pen out of his breast pocket and just before making it official, he flashed his eyes again to the girl, who was just zoning out while wrapping her lips around a cigarette. Yes, a new toy is just what he needs. He spoke once he signed every paper.

“You’re damn right I am, Robert.”

───୨ৎ──────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ───

taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee @sugurubabe @captainfia @alastorssimp @iheartalastor @speedycoffeedelight @1o-o1 @kimmis-stuff @qu1cks1lversb1tch @chibistar45 @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @redfoxwritesstuff @fries11 @certifiedcrybabyyy @sirens-and-moonflowers @rapturenyx @visara-valentina

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

I need any girls of you choice with a reader who doesn't understand what the word fetish means and thinks it's another word for hobby or activity. Thus reader well say stuff like "Hey you wanna try out this new fetish with me."

(H:SR/GoV: NIKKE/Genshin Impact) Their S/O not knowing what "fetish" means

Honkai Star Rail: Bronya, Seele, Serval Goddess of Victory NIKKE: Anis Genshin Impact: Ayaka, Lisa, Eula, Xianyun

Quoth the Bae, of Hololive English Promise:

"What is a fetish? If you really think about it , the negative connotation of fetish just doesn't make logical sense don't you agree? I just think if you have your preferences you can have your own preferences and that's completely fine but like asking for someone's fetish just seems like you're prying into something but it shouldn't really feel that way? Also eyes and thighs"

Bronya was in the middle of drinking tea and filling paperwork before hearing the question that made her heart stop for a few seconds.

(S/O) "Bronya, would you care to try this fetish of mine?"

(Bronya) "HRK?!-"

Her hands fumble with the cup, causing some of it to spill over in the ground as she violently rocks in her seat, coughing as her eyes widened.

S/O quickly rushed over to her, one hand on her back and shoving some important documents aside as Bronya attempted to stabilize herself.

(S/O) "Bronya, what's wrong?!"

Bronya's face quickly scrunches up with embarrassment, quickly turning red as her voice cracked.

(Bronya) "What kind of question is that S/O? How can you discuss that so openly?!"

(S/O) "I-Is it that weird to paint out in public?"

...What?

(Bronya) "Paint?-...S/O, when you say fetish, what do you?-"

(S/O) "As in hobby? I overheard some of the people from Wildfire say it before."

Bronya blinks a few times before sighing, both her hands slowly dragging down her face before shaking her head.

(Bronya) "Dear...that's...not what that word means..."

(S/O) "What does it mean then?"

Bronya inhaled, trying her best to keep her composure that was snapped in half like a twig before her eyes shifted to the floor, fingers twiddling.

(Bronya) "I-It means..." ahem "...A certain activity or object you like when you are...intimate..."

(S/O) "Inti-?"

In an instant, S/O understood before their face looked similar to Bronya, the couple standing still completely red.

(S/O) "Oh..."

She thanked the Gods above that there were no guards currently in her room right now, lest they get the very wrong idea.

...Not that she was opposed to trying some things out, but this was her main office! Hardly the time and place!

(Bronya) "...Pray tell, who exactly gave you the definition of this word?"

(S/O) "W-Well, it was-"

Seele regrets saying the word fetish off handedly around S/O.

Forgetting that they came from the prim and proper SIlvermane Guard, they didn't know the meaning of such a vulgar word.

Or more accurately, they were a bunch of softies who couldn't bear to hear something so normal in the Underworld.

Regardless, S/O thought it meant something entirely different because Seele was not ready for the question:

(S/O) "Wanna join me in a fetish I've been wanting to try, Seele?"

(Seele) "Hm? Sure-...WHAT?"

Seele immediately spun around, heart racing as she eyed S/O up and down.

They were in the middle of the streets right now! She sincerely prayed that they weren't about to-

Was that a notebook and pencil they were holding?

(S/O) "Seele? Is something the matter?"

(Seele) "Yeah, somethings the matter! Just what the hell do you think that word means?!"

(S/O) "W-Well, I thought it meant activity, or-"

Well, S/O technically wasn't wrong.

(Seele) "Ugh, l-listen! Just...don't go saying that around in public! And just use the word 'hobby' like a normal person!"

(S/O) "So, what does it mean then?"

(Seele) "I'm NOT explaining that in public just...just wait till we get home, alright?!"

She spun around, mostly to make sure S/O didn't see her blushing.

Serval was in the middle of strumming her guitar idly, trying to make sure that it was tuned correctly when S/O came through the door.

(Serval) "S/O! What's up?"

S/O smiled at Serval, closing the workshop door behind her and taking a seat beside the rockstar.

(S/O) "Hey! I hope you don't mind me asking a favor."

Serval tittered, waving a hand nonchalantly in response before going back to adjusting the tuning again.

(Serval) "Not at all. What can I help with?"

(S/O) "A new fetish I want to try-"

A comically loud and out of tune note echoed throughout the shop as Serval's finger stopped flicking mid-motion, her eyes almost bulging out her skull.

The noise startled S/O, but not nearly as much as they had startled her.

(Serval) "Run that by me again, S/O?"

(S/O) "Y-Y'know. A, um...fetish. I want to try this particular song with you-"

(Serval) "Okay, okay! Hold up a second!"

Putting down her guitar and brushing the bangs that had fallen onto her face, she grabbed both their shoulders while she felt her face heat up.

(Serval) "S/O, are you and I thinking of the same word right now?"

(S/O) "I'm just talking about wanting to try an instrument out?"

(Serval) "And...there's no innuendo here, right?"

(S/O) "Does...fetish not think what I think it means?"

Serval gave an exacerbated sigh, though she couldn't help the smile that was forming as well.

(Serval) "Hah, not in the slightest."

S/O was such an idiot.

And by god, Serval was glad S/O was her idiot.

Anis spits out the soda she was drinking, not bothering to clean up as she spun around to S/O.

(Anis) "WOAH! W-When did you get so bold?!"

S/O was stunned by Anis's reaction, but she wasn't able to scan in any increase in heartrate.

Did they just get augmented to become extremely brave, or?-

(S/O) "I didn't think you'd get so worked up over model building, Anis."

...Okay, no they were just stupid.

Anis slumped back down on the couch, facepalming before cleaning up the soda that was covering the table.

(Anis) "S/O, fetish isn't some ol-timey word for hobby!...Well, for decent folk, anyway."

(S/O) "So what's it-"

(Anis) "Agh! L-Look, don't ask me!"

Her core quickly heating up, her fingers fidgeted as she did her best to look everywhere except at S/O.

(Anis) "Go ask Rapi or Ne-N-NO! DON'T ASK NEON! JUST...Just ask the Commander, or something!"

(S/O) "O-Okay? I didn't offend you or something, did I?"

(Anis) sigh "No, but...look it's something you don't ask in the middle of the lobby, okay? It means something pretty...dirty!"

(S/O) "Since when did you care about that kind of thing?"

(Anis) "WHEN MY BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND IS ASKING ME TO TRY A FETISH ON THEM, OKAY?!"

(Neon) "WOAH! You're doing what?!"

(Commander) "...Is this a bad time to come in?"

(Rapi) "Perhaps we should take a break and leave the outpost for a while, sir-"

(Anis) "N-NO! YOU'RE GETTING THE WRONG IDEA!"

Ayaka gasped at S/O's question, a hand going over her chest before stammering out a response.

(Ayaka) "Huh?! S-S/O! W-We can't discuss something so...degenerate out in the open!"

(S/O) "W-Wine tasting?"

Now Ayaka let out a small squeak. She knows she's heard something to do with wine tasting in the bedroom.

(Ayaka) "S/O, please!"

(S/O) "Hang on a second, Ayaka! I don't think you're understanding what I mean!"

For once, Ayaka thinks she knows something that S/O didn't outside of her duties.

That being the true meaning of a word that she found much too dirty to use.

(Ayaka) "S/O, do you know what that word is?"

(S/O) "Hobbies, right?"

(Ayaka) "I'm...afraid not, love."

Looking around to make sure no one was around, she leaned over to S/O's ear before whispering the meaning.

Which doing so caused her to become just as red as S/O.

Lisa honestly doesn't know if she's disappointed or amused by the fact S/O asked her to try a fetish without knowing what it really means.

Maybe a little bit of both, but it didn't fail to get her to laugh anyway, Lisa covering her mouth by balling up a gloved hand.

And their confusion, accompanied by that cute tilt of their head and slight pout, got her to laugh even more.

(Lisa) "Sorry, sorry! Not laughing at you, cutie."

(S/O) "So, what are you laughing about then?"

(Lisa) "Well...that particular choice of phrasing, really. You do know what that word means, right?"

(S/O) "What, fetish?"

(Lisa) "Mhm."

S/O crossed their arms before sighing.

(S/O) "I saw it in a book, though the sentence it was used in was pretty vague. I know it means something to do with an activity, from context clues anyway."

(Lisa) "That book must have been very flowery in its language if you could only pick that up from the context."

Before making a mental note to check out the book S/O was reading, Lisa puts one hand under her chin as her elbow rests on the table.

(Lisa) "Allow me to tell you the definition proper, S/O...Rather, I'll show you it."

Later that evening, S/O did know what the word meant, one sore body later.

Eula goes bright red at the question, immediately raising an eyebrow at S/O.

(Eula) "Is this some kind of joke, S/O?!"

Seeing S/O only laugh in reaction confirmed her suspicions. They were teasing her!

(Eula) "Hmph! Trying to get a rise out of an elegant woman such as I will only earn you my vengeance, S/O!"

(S/O) "My apologies, miss Eula! I did not know that a mere painting could get you so flustered!"

So, it was that kind of painting? Eula had no idea S/O was so...perverted!

(Eula) "Any right person would be, if asked! If you desire a nude model, then-"

Immediately, she noticed how red they got.

(S/O) "W-Woah! Hang on, I meant a regular painting! Like of a smile, or something like that!"

Eula paused for a moment, then furrowing her brows again.

(Eula) "Did you not just ask me to try a fetish with you?"

(S/O) "As in, hobby? Isn't that just a fancy word for it?"

...Oh.

(Eula) "N-Not in any circle I know."

Well, Eula certainly didn't want to be the one to explain it.

Xianyun is relatively unaffected by S/O's question as she adjusts her glasses.

She's rather thankful of S/O being so straightforward about the request, less trying to decipher or beat around the bush for her.

(Xianyun) "One is not opposed, S/O. What fetish would you like to attempt?"

(S/O) "Great! See, I really want to try swimming as fast as I can versus one of your inventions!"

(Xianyun) "...A competition against One's contraptions is enough to stimulate you?"

(S/O) "I imagine it would! If it's made by you, then it's going to give me a challenge!"

Xianyun is honestly touched, that something made by her would get S/O that excited.

Who is she to deny her lover such a request?"

(Xianyun) "One will oblige! Let us head towards the beaches and find a worthy space to try it out."

...

Later as she watched her contraption race against S/O to a nearby rock, gliding against the waters, she heard footsteps behind her.

(Lumine) "Cloud Retainer?"

(Xianyun) "Ah, you return! One is pleased to see you doing well. Though you come at a rather...intimate moment, I believe."

Paimon blinked into existence next to her companion, waving hello excitedly.

(Paimon) "Hiya!...What's S/O doing?"

(Xianyun) "They are indulging themselves in a fetish of theirs."

(Lumine) "HUH?"

(Paimon) "W-WOAH! Did Paimon hear that right?!"

(Xianyun) "One is certainly not to judge. In fact, One can appreciate their openness about the subject matter."

Lumine and Paimon did a double take at what S/O was doing, then back to Xianyun.

...Either she didn't know what it meant, or-

S/O returned to shore a moment later, still clothed in a wetsuit that Xianyun had created and waved hello to the Traveler and Paimon.

(S/O) "Oh, hey you two!"

(Paimon) "Uh...hi?"

(Lumine) "S/O, Xianyun just told us you were...involved in a fetish?"

(S/O) "Yeah! I wanted to see if she could make a machine that was faster than me at swimming!"

(Xianyun) "Are mortals not accustomed to speaking so openly about it to their lovers?"

(Paimon) "P-Paimon guesses? But...do you know what it means?"

(Xianyun) "Naturally. A sexual desire of the partner-"

(S/O) "WHAT?!"

(Xianyun) "...Oh. Well, that certainly explains why you were so calm about it-"

(Lumine) "...I should go-"

[icarusredwings]

After Logan was given a piece of the girls clothing, he gave a funny look to the officer.

"... did she own rabbits?"

"Awww bunnys!!" Wade coes, interrupting the conversation. He couldn't smell the scent, but he could tell just from the shirt alone that there was animal hair on it. White, slightly dark tipped.

The officer gave a scrunched up look. "About that... she IS a rabbit.."

"What?" Logan growls, about to rip this man a new one when a woman came to him with big watery eyes. "She's not a rabbit! She's a shifter! S-she just got her powers a couple of weeks ago a-and now my baby girl is lost in these woods!"

"So is she a rabbit or not? Because she sure as fuck smells like one."

"Dang Logan, She lost her daughter, it's not her fault." Wade whispers to him, knowing how frustrated he must be but he didn't want him snapping at the poor woman, whos shirt was already soaked (and starting to freeze) from tears, her hair was a mess, the bags under her eyes suggested that she hasn't rested since she's found out her child was missing, and her skirt was hand stitched, patched in some spots.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to calm down." The officer said.

"Don't tell him to calm down! There's a child missing, and so far, you've done jack shit!!" Wade pipes up, stepping forward and pointing a finger at his nose, actually touching it, only for his hand to be slapped away.

"We've tried tracking her down but..." he starts as the mother sobs into her apron.

"Buuuuttt??" The bald man in 2 different hats questioned, not ready to freeze his ass off for this, but he would want someone to do this if his daughter was missing.

Oh.. those were the days. Logan and him arguing over parenting choices, having dinner together, sleeping soundly at night knowing their family was happy and healthy. But now they were empty nesters.

Heh. That must have been the best 20 years of Wade's life. The only good thing about this is that his daughter having his genetics, so she could stay 16 forever if she really wanted too. Each time she died she regenerated back into that mouthy little girl, though it was odd to watch a 25 year old woman turn into a 16 year old again, especially when remembering that she's 21+ by now.

'No way, young lady, you can't drink your underage!!'

'Dad, i'm 25...'

Man... they grew up so fast.. And they were so proud of all of them. Even the adopted ones along the way like that little rascal Leo who apprently was doing quite well for himself now that he was all grown up. Poor guy ended up having a hairy back and a mane so large that it almost mirrored Sabertooths... so much for being a 'late bloomer'

The sweet thoughts go away when the man gestures to three dead rabbits next to them on the side of the road. "The dogs keep going after our suspects.."

"Woah, Hold on a second. You're having a problem with your highly trained shepherd dog's prey drive so you got THE WOLVERINE?? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard and I once googled if I could put a fork in my toaster because half my toaster strudel fell out instead of just unplugging it!" He shouts, arms going up. "Who's in charge of this operation!?"

"You didn't find that out before agreeing to come!?" Logan growls at him only for Wade to roll his eyes. "Oh, calm your knot, Jacob. I didn't know our helpless little girl was actually a single rabbit lost in a forest wonderland!"

Logans brows furrow with that 'Who the fuck is Jacob?' Look, his face showing more confusion then anger now.

"Alright. So here's what we're gonna do." Wade starts.

"Yeah, No. You already ruined your chances at this, it's my turn. You litsen to me, now!" He says, making Wade's hands go up. "Ooh~ Yes sir."

"Shut up!"

"Ok-"

"I'm taking this. I need a coms, give me a couple of hours and a med kit. The kid might be injured, so I might have to fix'em up before carrying them back here. They'll be weak, so maybe some food too. What does she like? Actually, never mind, get me the file." Grabbing the clothing, he decided it would be better to

"OOh fuck- I'm so wet right now." Wade mutters under his breath, getting a 'what the fuck' glance from the officer.

____

By the time Logan collected all that he needed to leave, Wade (of course) was strapped.

"I told you not to bring those. If anything, the gun powder will scare her, and she'll run off." Logan muttered.

"You never know when you'll need to shoot something, Loagie. Besides, I have flares too. And the snacks." He says, opening the bag as they walked, rummaging through it. "Why is there so much deer jerky in here?"

"I like deer jerky." He grumbles, slightly annoyed as the air was pricking his nose.

"I know that but is that the only thing they packed?? Aren't rabbits herbivores?" He says, still looking with a frown. Maybe he should have taken Ro up on that soup...

Not to mention, while he had one idiot in his ear, he had another in the other one.

'Logan, you should be coming up to where-'

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I can smell it." Glancing over, he saw that the puddle of blood from the other rabbit half way already covered with a new layer of pure white.

Squinting, he breathed slowly and smelled deep.

"There's a storm coming.." he says over the mic.

'We know, that's why this is so important.'

"Wait a second, you sent kurt out here KNOWING there was a storm rolling in!? And then you dragged me out here knowing damn well I've never stepped foot in these woods!?"

'He volunteered, and we called you first. You just refused to pick up. And yes you have, you have a cabin somewhere out here.'

"No I don't!"

'Other Logan did.' Scott mutters.

"How many times to I have to fucking tell you that I don't have his memories!? You sent me into unknow-"

His nose twitches, stopping as he got a whiff.

"Oh, he's got something. Whatcha smell boy? Show me!" Wade coes, giggling a bit as he pats his knees, causing Logan to growl, blushing, embarrassed at the puppy talk.

Walking off, he changes direction, leaving the premade path of boot tracks and paw prints.

'What are you doing? Stay on the path!... Logan? Logan! Now is not the time to go all lone wolf! Loga-'

The Wolverine gives a snarl of annoyance, trying to both pinpoint and smell with the nagging in his ear. Taking the head set off and turned, dropping it in Wade's hands, who made a 'Oooh!' Sound, putting it on instead with a big smirk.

"Hiya! You're on air with us at red and yellow radio station! What's your question caller?"

'What? Wade! Give it back to Logan! If he goes off track, we won't be able to-'

"Aht, i'm gonna have to cut you off, caller, This is our mission, our gig. Don't worry, I won't lose the big guy. Right now, he's looking at a tree. And now hes sniffing. Oh now he's glaring at me, and now hes-"

"Wade!! Hush!"

"Sorry caller, gotta go-"

'Wade? Deadpool? Wade!! Don't you dare go rouge! Wade!!!'

Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.

Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.

"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.

So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.

He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)

One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.

"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.

Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.

He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.

"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.

"Logan.."

"No."

"Logan-"

He shakes his head. "Don't care."

"...She's missing."

He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"

"There's a little girl missing."

"So?"

"Logan!"

"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.

For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.

He never did.

"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"

The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'

".. You find her then." He compromises.

"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."

He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"

"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.

The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"

"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.

"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"

Shit.

"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"

Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."

"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."

Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.

He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."

"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"

"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."

"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"

"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..

[blindvogel]

I've played through Veilguard three times now and I've had this thing in my head since the first go around. I was not normal about Emmrich and Kamari before I really met them and now that I have, they do not leave my head. But before I can get into all the sweet and fluffy pieces that I usually love to write, I need to get the drama and heartbreak out of my system that was the third act of the game. We all know. It's the Argument, and the weeks after. So. First part. Kamari.

~~~

Its shape the absence of you (Part 1)

She had thought it would be a conversation of affirmations and reassurance when she sought out Emmrich the evening before their mission on Tearstone Island. She never thought it would be this. 

Kamari can tell he is worried, scared even - he’s never been good at truly hiding his emotions from her. Yet it is not a fear of the now, the coming day. He’s scared of hurting her in the future, some nebulous time some decades away should they make it out alive and off the island. 

And his words - he’s always so careful with them, chooses them wisely. And what he says to her now- 

“Even under the best circumstances, you will outlive me, Kamari. I care for you. Deeply. But- there are such years between us, I shouldn’t heap you with that burden.” 

It’s a stab right into her heart. Does he truly mean to end things between them or is it just his fear speaking, finding a new way to worm itself into torturing him? And her. 

“You’re breaking my heart by worrying.” She can only respond with honesty, with her feelings laid bare before him. 

And he sees them. She knows he does when he looks away and his voice softens around the familiar endearment.

“Darling, I didn’t…” He trails off, does not finish the thought. 

For a moment she thinks Emmrich will relent, will not push this further. Except he doesn’t. Kamari can see it as his posture changes, his body turns away from her as he looks back at her. Determined.

“I only wish to be fair to you,” he says but there is no fairness in fear.

Still, she tries to soothe, to reassure him despite her own fear rising up her throat. She cares too much for him to just give in.

“I know what I’m getting into.”

It’s not what he wants to hear, or can at this point perhaps. And Kamari would never have thought to what depths Emmrich could sink when all he had shown her before was kindness and affection. Couldn’t have imagined that he could look down at her like he does now, so dismissively.

“At your age?” 

It’s a slap in her face and it hurts, yet still she persists. She does not want to argue.

“Don’t start,” she cautions, yet even her own body does not listen as her back straightens and her muscles tense.

And neither does Emmrich as he continues to insist, his voice raised. 

“We must consider this!”

A last attempt, her hand reaching out palm up, placating, almost pleading, voice soft.

“You’re overthinking it, and it’s not the time.”

It’s as if he isn’t listening to her at all, as if he doesn’t want to or can hear anything she’s said since she came into his room. Cannot back down from the path of escalation he’s set himself on.

“One of us needs to consider my mortality!” There is real anger in his voice, brows knit together, an arrogance in his posture as he towers over her that snaps something inside Kamari.

She doesn’t raise her voice but her own pain and anger feel like glass shards in her mouth as she rises to the bait.

“Because you’re worried about me, or insecure about you?”

And it hits its mark. 

Shock and hurt is written all across Emmrich’s face even as he averts his eyes from her, his shoulders sinking as the fight goes out of him. She immediately regrets this, never wanted to see him hurt or be the one to cause him pain. Her instinct screams at her to take it all back, to apologize. Her mouth complies before it catches up with her other feelings.

“Look I…,” she starts but then cannot bring herself to finish it. He’s hurt her deeply. It is too much for now, for what little time there is left. “.. let’s pack. Eve before we face a god, right?” She finishes instead, her body half-turning to leave. 

It’s not what either of them want, staying in this hurtful limbo, but there are too many emotions and too little time to fix it.

“As you say,” he agrees, his head sinking and unable to look at her when she can no longer conceal the extent of her own pain from her face. Kamari leaves quickly before he can see her cry. 

And it’s a blessing that her own room is so close so that nobody else sees her tears. 

Packing and readying her gear she can almost do by rote and she isn’t sure if that is a blessing or a curse. It leaves most of her mind free to circle and spin, replay that conversation in her head over and over and over. 

Had Emmrich truly so little faith in her feelings for him, had he thought them so shallow that she hadn’t even considered a life with him beyond the now and what that would mean? Had it been just his own fear and insecurity talking as she had thrown into his face? Something in between? The knife in her heart twists sharply, leaving her sitting on the floor with trembling hands. 

It continues to twist her heart into a painful knot as she attempts sleep and finds very little. 

The heavy eye makeup she applies the next morning does little to hide the redness of her puffy eyes but nobody remarks on it. They are all dealing with their own emotions and as long as her voice does not waver, as long as her thoughts remain focused on the task at hand and her eyes on the path before her then it does not matter. There is no room for anything else. 

They discuss the best approach, discuss splitting the team so that one half can distract the Antaam army while the other is guaranteed an approach to where the gods are working on the dagger. Kamari agrees with Harding’s suggestion to lead the other team - she trusts her friend to get them through safely. Who better to do this than a scout with the Stone on her side and Neve, Bellara and Taash to watch her back. 

Keeping Emmrich with her is a selfish choice and she knows it. They have not spoken since yesterday and the weight of what was said and what has been left unsaid hangs heavy between them. But Kamari knows that she will feel better if she knows where he is, if she can at least make sure herself that he is not harmed. It’s the best she can do to get through this and focus.

There are enough obstacles in their way to keep her attention. 

So she isn’t prepared when Emmrich catches up to her side in a rare calm moment, Davrin and Lucanis just enough ahead of them in a semblance of privacy. 

“Kamari?” A pause, almost not noticeable before he adds, “Darling? I wanted to say-”

She interrupts him gently. “Yeah. About that argument…” She can not have this now, can not give him the attention that this would rightfully deserve. But the familiar endearment soothes nonetheless.

Emmrich sighs, understanding what she implies. “It’s no time to apologize, is it?”

“We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.” 

She does not keep her promise. She does not get to go home.

After Lucanis succeeds in striking down Ghilan’nain, after Harding sacrificing herself to give him that shot, after losing Bellara to Elgar’nan - after all this, Solas’ betrayal costs her that promise. Ripped into the Fade, shackled and weighed down by her regrets, she plummets into the Fade prison in his stead. 

The voices of her friends, team mates, her love, are deafening in her head, cursing and blaming her for her failures. And she lets them. She deserves it. 

She made the call that got Bellara captured, perhaps killed. 

She agreed to Harding’s plan, was not quick enough, not clever enough to do something before she chose to sacrifice herself. 

She hurt Emmrich. 

She… she could not save Varric. 

That realization, that memory resurfacing has her remain motionless after she slams into the ground.

Kamari doesn’t know how long she simply lays there. Time seems to have little meaning where she is and she has no presence of mind to think about it. She can only feel the weight of the pain and grief, the weight of her guilt pressing her down. Can barely breathe.

Then the tears come and soon sobs shake her entire body until finally exhaustion drags her into unconsciousness. 

Eventually, she wakes. Manages to struggle to her feet to aimlessly wander the greyscale world of her prison. Solas’s prison, and she his substitute. 

It takes her longer still to form thoughts that are not made of self-recrimination, that are not voices in her head telling her it was her fault. 

The first thought that floats to the surface is an observation. That she feels no hunger, that her body exists in this realm as if set in stasis. It is followed by another thought, a logical conclusion. If her body is in stasis, then she can not die. A third thought, now clawing at her so sharply that the apathy crumbles away under the fresh pain and fear - if she cannot die, then she will be stuck here forever. And she knows this to be true. She is a Watcher.

She cannot stay. She is a Watcher. There has to be a way.

Her steps become determined, her aimless wandering turns into a search. But there is nothing, just the flat grey cobblestones underneath her feet and floating statues of her tyrannical would-be gods above her. 

She is alone, with only her regrets for company. 

So she talks to them out loud so that she can hear her own voice echoing in the space and know the voices answering are in her head by the contrast. Bellara, calm yet reproachful. Harding, soft and gentle despite the bitterness of her words. They speak, they argue for what feels like an eternity, Kamari softly begging for forgiveness until she finally realizes she is asking this from herself. 

Until there are Bellara’s words in her head, a memory from what feels now so long ago. “Until it feels like I deserve it.” 

Does she? Is there even something to forgive aside from her own guilt and regret? 

They knew the risks, they made their choices. And she had to live with that even if it hurt. It does. It will. Hope is not yet lost if they can save Bellara. And she cannot help from in here, stuck pondering what-ifs. 

She is a Watcher, there has to be a way.

“The Fade always provides a way forward.” Emmrich’s reassuring voice, his words when Johanna had sealed them in. She needs to get back to him, to make things right and have that conversation. To hold him and not let go until that gnawing fear subsides. Not a regret, a promise.

“You’ve got it, kid.” 

Varric. 

The thought, the memory steals her breath. He had been dead the entire time and she… every time she doubted, every time she faltered and sought out his advice… she had been talking to herself. And a small part of her, a quiet voice she did not want to listen to, it had always known. But she could not face it then, gladly allowed herself to be fooled by Solas’ curse, his words because she could not take the truth. Then.

Now? 

Grief has not dulled its claws but they were no longer buried so deep that she could not take the pain. He had tried to save his friend his way, and perhaps he had failed… but only if she would give up too. Only if she could not accept it and stop looking for a way forward, a way out.

“The Fade always provides.”

Kamari closes her eyes, focuses on Emmrich’s voice even if it is only in her memory. Hope. She has to hold on to hope.

The ground beneath her shakes, her eyes sting with a sudden brightness and as she opens them she sees it right above her, a distant sun and a steep climb. But she can do this. Her family is waiting.

[peachhcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/768160196490117120/need-to-know-if-sammy-ever-finds-out-about-what

lowkey want sammy to go off and kevin and break up with him and make sure he deletes the video

part 4! keep in mind that in the other wonder years fics + the fics before will and samy get together that samy genuinely doesn’t know how she feel and doesn’t really figure it out until her and will go to her senior prom together — just to clear up if there’s any confusion about that!

i also totally made this way too long at 2.3k words OOPS but enjoy!! lowkey also gave kevin a small redemption arc bc it just kind of came out as i was writing lmao

au masterlist | previous part

the things will told samy replayed in her mind on a loop like a broken record. she tossed and turned all night thinking about how kevin literally punched one of her best friends all because will tried standing up for her when kevin's friends started saying shitty things. she had an idea of what was being said because she's heard it a few times before in passing and rumors circulating around the school. usually, those things would just roll off her back, mainly because her brothers taught her to not let that type of thing mess with you too much. 

and that's what samy did. she always thought tyler was a gross person anyway because of how he was always trying to hook up with a new girl each weekend. the thing that was bugging samy the most was kevin and will getting into a fight over her. their relationship had been a bit tense the past month. kevin kept saying things and samy kept trying to ignore him and denying all of it, but now she wasn't so sure anymore after finding out him and will fought about the one thing that's been making her and kevin's relationship so strained. 

"bye guys!" samy exclaimed as she walked the guys out. all of them plus marcie and kevin just finished their semi-bi-weekly friday moving night. it was kevin's first time being invited after him and samy had been talking for awhile. she was excited for him to start bonding with the people she was so close with. 

once everyone was out of sight, samy trailed back into the living room where kevin was. the boy smiled a bit, opening his arm up as samy sat back down next to him. the warmth of the blankets returned after standing in the doorway for so long. 

"so, what did you think?" she asked nervous but excitedly. 

"they were cool," kevin nodded. 

"i think they liked you, too. hopefully we can all hang out again soon, or you can come with me to some of their games," the youngest hughes grinned as she squeezed kevin's arm a bit tighter. 

"yeah, for sure. you know, i had no idea you and will grew up together," the boy hummed, his tone a bit too light to pick up on any envy yet. 

"oh, yeah. we go way back. i've known will since we were babies. he's one of my best friends now," samy grinned and she missed the way kevin's jaw clenched listening to her say that. 

"yeah, you two are really close," this time the envy did slip out through his tone. samy caught wind of it and snapped her gaze in his direction. 

"what? are you jealous or something?" she laughed a bit, tugging on his arm and still trying to find amusement in it. 

"should i be?" his green eyes pierced into her skin and samy slowly understood he was being serious. she dropped his arm. 

"no? we've been best friends our whole lives. i've never even seen him that way," the soccer player couldn't even begin to think of will as something other than a friend and she was confused on where this idea was coming from. 

"you better tell him and everyone else that," kevin muttered. 

"oh, come on, kev. our friends have been teasing us about this since they met us. it's just a joke. we've never even done anything. he's like a brother to me," samy continued laughing in hopes to ease up some of the tension building. although, she did fail to mention how her and will kissed in her bathroom back in april and how something in her hadn't been the same since. 

"i'm just saying, hughes. guys can tell and guys can feel when there's other feelings going on," with that, kevin looked at his phone and stood up. "i gotta get going anyway. mom wants me back home." 

samy didn't have anything else to say. the thoughts in her mind were confusing her along with her and will's kiss from april and then again at the beginning of the school year. those were all just for fun though, right? she made it clear she was joking and will did too. it wasn't even serious. 

"see you later," kevin mumbled before leaving out of the same door everyone else left from ten minutes ago. 

since then, samy and kevin kept getting in little tiffs about what was going on between her and will. something would happen that would set the brunette off and he'd bring it up after the fact. samy would just deny it all and tell him he was overthinking it—because it was true. right? there was nothing going on between her and will. 

there never would be. 

but then there was homecoming. the night samy and kevin went public with their new relationship and the night samy started wondering if things really were changing. 

she kept noticing the way will took every chance he got to look at her. his eyes were quite literally glued to her and it sent a funny, but good feeling through samy's chest. she kind of liked the way he was looking at her. and then when the guys jumped in for a few photos, she felt the tight grip will had on her waist and how close he was to her and she also saw the way kevin looked like he wanted to snap will's head off from where he stood off to the side. 

and that's when samy started wondering if there was something more there and maybe kevin was right. 

but he couldn't be. she didn't like will. he didn't like her. they were friends. nothing more, nothing less. 

ryan mentioned something to her that night after she got back. they didn't really talk about it, but he hinted something and she understood what he was trying to say. still though, samy chose to firmly believe that there was nothing going on between her and will. 

the youngest hughes was at kevin's house the next day. she knocked a good three times on his front door and then crossed her arms waiting for him to come out. there were heavy footsteps before the door swung open. kevin paused in the entryway, surprised to see samy on his porch.

"oh, hey. i didn't know you were coming over," he smiled a bit, but his smile disappeared when she didn't reciprocate it. 

"we need to talk."

kevin glanced around like there were other people around, but when he only saw samy, he slowly shut his door and stepped onto the porch with her. 

"okay," the two sat down on the bench his mom had outside. samy knew kevin probably had an idea about what she was gonna say, so she decided to just rip the bandaid off and stop beating around the bush.

"i know you punched will the other night at the game," she began. 

the boy's eyes narrowed and then he jumped up like he was gonna take another swing, "did he tell you that? i'm gonna fucking—"

samy grabbed his arm to bring him back to reality, "i was gonna find out sooner or later, kevin. you really thought hiding that from me was gonna work?" she sneered. 

"who the fuck told you?" he snapped back. 

"why does it even matter who told me? why the fuck did you punch him? if you didn't want him standing up for me, you should've done it first," the girl snapped right back at him. kevin's face twisted.

"well in case you wanted to know, he did confirm he liked you because he'd fuck you too if he had the chance," the brunette grumbled and hearing that made samy's insides twist but not in a bad way. 

"so what? that gave you the excuse to punch him?" 

"it confirmed what i've known all along and what you've kept denying since we got together," the boy pulled his arm away. 

"you could've seriously hurt him, kevin. i don't care how you feel, you don't fucking punch someone because they aren't making you happy. would you punch me?" the soccer player stood up so they were face to face. 

"he punched me back just so you know. he actually tackled me to the ground if that makes any difference."

"why are you so obsessed with this? why not just break up with me if you think i like him?" they were going in circles at this point. 

"because i wanna keep thinking that i'm wrong and there's nothing between you two. i wanna believe you like me. you keep fucking denying it so i'm choosing to believe you, but every time i'm around you guys i'm told otherwise. why can't you just fucking admit it to yourself, samy? why can't you admit to me that you like him?" now kevin was just pleading for some honesty and as much as samy was supposed to hate him right now, his words stung. 

"because i don't like him! i've never liked him!" she yelled at him. 

"there it is again. you're lying. i know you're lying. i can see it in your eyes. your tell is that you get defensive when you're lying," kevin pointed his finger right in her face which she pushed away. 

"well maybe it's because he's my best friend and has been my best friend since we were kids and i'm just so terrified to lose that! and maybe i just kept making myself belief he didn't like me because then it would save all of us so much hurt in the long run because dating your best friend always goes bad. have you ever liked someone that's so close to you that it just scares you more than anything because you don't wanna do anything that will put you into a position to lose them? i like you, kevin. that was never fake. i think it just..i just tried pushing away other feelings too in the process and it didn't end well," everything all just spilled out and samy dropped back down to the bench while hiding her face in her hands. 

a beat of silence passed between the two before kevin sunk back onto the bench next to her. he hesitated for a second, wondering if it would be the right movie, but ultimately placing his hand on her back. 

"shit, i'm sorry. i-i didn't mean to.." 

"no, i'm sorry. i shouldn't have snapped. i shouldn't have punched will. i shouldn't have done a lot of things," kevin shook his head. "if the feelings were really real, then hurting one another wouldn't be a question. i know it's scary, but i don't think you guys would put one another into a position to lose the other." 

"i don't even really know how i feel, but all i know is that i don't wanna lose will just because of some stupid feelings. i also don't wanna lose you either, but i just don't think we work in a relationship. i think i just need to be by myself before i even think about a serious relationship," she met the boy's gaze. it was sad, but he slowly nodded. 

"i get it, really. friend then?" the boy wondered and samy nodded. she hugged his side. 

"just a few things. don't punch my friends ever again, okay? and can you please delete that video?" 

"yes and yes. i promise i won't. i'm sorry i did," kevin sighed as he pulled his phone out so samy could watch him delete the video.

"i'm not the one who needs to hear that apology," she watched as he found it in his camera roll and pressed delete and then went to recently deleted to permanently delete. 

"yeah, i know. i doubt will would wanna hear me out though," kevin and samy exchanged a glance. 

"if i talk to him, do you promise to apologize to him?" the girl asked and kevin nodded. 

—

kevin caught will a few days later at a community soccer game samy was playing in with her club team. the blonde caught kevin coming towards them, his face twisting a bit but the brunette raised his arms as a surrender.

"i'm not here to punch you again if that's what you're wondering," the brunette mumbled.

"if you're here to start anything you better turn back around right now," ryan cut in because he did not want to deal with another fight. 

"i'm not, i swear. i was hoping will and i could talk?" kevin looked over at the blonde who stared at him for a good five seconds before slowly nodding.

"yeah, sure," will said and the two walked a bit out of earshot. 

"first, i wanna say i'm sorry for punching you. it was uncalled for and i shouldn't have done that, so i'm sorry. second, the video is completely gone, so you don't have to worry about that anymore," kevin explained and apologized. 

"i guess i shouldn't have punched back either," will nodded.

"can we just call it even? samy and i aren't together anymore so you don't have to worry about that anymore," the brunette stared at their shoes. 

"i'm sorry you guys broke up," the hockey player rocked on his heels and kevin just shrugged. 

"it's whatever. we're still friends and it's not weird or anything. we're good though?" kevin held his hand out as a truce. will stared at it before shaking it and the boys patted one another's backs.

"sorry again, will. thanks for talking," the blonde nodded and the two finally parted ways. will went back over to ryan and gabe who were curiously listening in. 

"what was that about? gabe wondered. 

"just..apologizing for real. i guess him and samy really did breakup," will explained and he watched his friends' gazes widen in surprise.

"oh shit. i didn't think she was actually serious," ryan mumbled.

"yeah, i guess. at least we don't have to deal with him anymore," the blonde shrugged a bit.

they were right though. kevin wasn't an issue for the rest of the year which meant samy and will were left to figure out what really was going on between them and how long samy could keep denying the feelings she had anytime her best friend was around.

[xenia12]

Here’s a bunch of 3+ year old incorrect TOH quotes from my notes app because I’m bored

News reporter: There are rumors that you recently went undercover at Hexside under the name “Caleb”. Is this true?

The Golden Guard: Pfft, TITAN no. Caleb’s just a pathetic wannabe who can’t stand his own incompetence. Like, seriously, he can’t do *anything* right. I feel bad for anyone who has to suffer the embarrassment of being within 20 feet of him. He’s such a loser.

Hunter, watching the clip on his scroll a few hours later: Say that to my face, you fucking tool. Stop being such a royal ass-kisser and get a real job.

The Emerald Entrails, sitting together after practice:

Willow: Are you okay?

Luz: No problemo!

Luz, internally: But it was all problemo.

Gus: What's your biggest fear?

Hunter: Being replaced.

Gus: Damn that's deep.

Gus: My new one is the Kool-Aid man but I feel kinda stupid about it now.

Hunter, lying in the woods, depressed: I'll never be a cop again. I'm gonna have to be a robber.

Lilith: You know, I really wish you’d just admit you made a mistake sometimes.

The Golden Guard, stirring his coffee: I prefer it with salt.

Willow: What are you two arguing about this time?

Hunter: He’s always using human phrases incorrectly!

Gus: Cry me a table, Hunter.

Luz: I'm very disappointed in you, Vee.

Hunter: C'mon, don't get mad at Vee!

Luz: Hunter, stop telling Vee it's okay for her to punch you! She needs to learn not to punch people!

Hunter: But I'm not a person!

Vee: Which is why I punched him!

Lilith: *Turns on the breakroom light*

The Golden Guard: *Sitting at the table, eating bread*

Lilith: It’s four in the morning.

The Golden Guard: Turn the light back off.

Hunter: The joy of hanging out with Luz. You look away for 5 seconds to make sure something is set up correctly, and she bites the tip of a marker off.

Camila: Can you come out?

Luz: Yeah gimme a minute…

Luz: Mom, I’m bi.

Camila: I know that. Come out to the car.

Luz: Okay.

Luz: Car, I’m bi.

Camila, a tired mother:

Willow: *lifting weights*

Hunter: Wow… She’s so intense!

Luz: I wonder what drives her.

Willow, internally: Oh I am going to be SO good at giving hugs.

Hunter, protecting a palistrom forest: I am Hunter, I speak for the trees. Chop them down and I snap your knees.

Luz: I wanna be a knight!

Hunter, basically a knight: What the fuck do you want this shit for? I kill people, all right? Their blood is on my hands! Every night, when I go to sleep, I see their FUCKING faces staring at me! Their families weep, and I FEEL NOTHING! I’M DEAD INSIDE!

Luz: Man, I want some of that in my life!

Luz: I want a trip down memory lane.

Vee: *proceeds to grab every warrior cats book they have and sets them in Luz’s lap*

Vee: I heard you needed these?

Luz: YES! ALL OF THEM!

Hunter: Due to personal reasons, I will be fucking sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box.

Luz: Did Willow say “I love you” and you said “Thanks”?

Hunter: THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL–

The Golden Guard, on live news: I can't imagine what the Owl Lady is planning, but I can tell you two things: we won't like it and it won't be legal.

Gus: Did you win? Or just not die?

Gus: Either way, hooray.

Hunter: ... Is "no" a valid answer?

Gus: The hooray is redacted and you frighten me.

The Golden Guard: Hey, do you know anyone who can teach me to play the trumpet?

Darius: Why?

The Golden Guard: I want to wander around playing it to annoy Lilith.

Darius: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play the trumpet well for that.

The Golden Guard: Darius, you have opened my eyes.

Lilith: Can we talk about that mass message you sent?

The Golden Guard: Why? It was important.

Lilith: All it says is, "I'm back on my shit".

Steve, shrugging: The people need to know.

Gus: How long do you think it’ll be until Willow finally snaps and commits murder?

Hunter: I’ve been operating under the assumption that it’s already happened at some point and it’s just that no one was ever able to trace it back to her.

Hunter: It was difficult, so you’ve just given up. You might fail, so why bother trying?

Luz: Exactly.

Luz, to Amity: I told you he’d understand.

Willow: Remember, when burying a body, make sure to cover it with endangered plants so it’s illegal to dig up!

Willow: Make sure to follow me for more gardening tips!

Hunter: There's something I have to ask about you-know-who.

Luz: Voldemort?

Hunter: No.

Luz: Is it Voldemort?

Hunter: It's not Voldemort.

Luz: You haven’t mentioned wizards once this conversation, so I’m gonna have to assume it’s Voldemort.

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map Pt. 41

As she opens the compass, Calibani regards it at first with fascination, then with a revulsion that grows into horror when she feels it talking in her head with her own voice.

"Those aren't my words. That's my voice, but those aren't my words!" Calibani shouts at the trinket. "How are you doing that? What are you?"

The compass, of course, says nothing. If you were there, you'd be able to tell her that a compass doesn't answer questions - that's what magic eight balls and smart phones do. A compass simply gives you direction on where to go and what to do. It can't do anything more than that. The four pairs of eyes in your compass look at each other, then at Calibani, each at a loss before they mutually decide to repeat their advice, which only makes Calibani shout her questions at them louder.

This goes on for a little while.

~ ~ ~

As Calibani argues with your compass, you remain in the clutches of the three mermaids. "Come with me, little human," the blonde one, Helyne, says as she grabs your shoulders and lifts you higher into the cavernous main chamber of their lair. You look up and see a big cage made of twisting coral. "We've got the perfect place to keep you, where you'll be nice and safe!"

Her two minions follow after you, giggling as Helyne forces you into the cage and twists the door closed around you. "There now, isn't that comfy?" the blonde mermaid says with a swish of her long pony tail. "Now we'll always know where you are so we can give you a kiss to keep you from drowning!"

She swims back to join her two henchmen, and for a moment the three mermaids sit and regard you silently. They're smiling at you in an adoring way, but specifically the way one would smile at a nice painting or a fancy vase, like you're just some rare decoration on display.

The brunette, Bob, speaks up. "Should we introduce ourselves?"

"Oh, right!" Helyne says before swimming above her two peers.

"I'm Helyne, of course," the blonde says with another swish of her long ponytail. "I'm the most beautiful and intelligent mermaid here, which is why I'm in charge. I'm also something of a human expert, which is good for you, because that means you'll live a long and happy life!"

The redhead pipes up, "She's really good at taking care of humans. That's why she gets to give the most kisses."

"It's true, it's true!" Helyne says while bowing her head in feigned modesty. "My red-headed friend here is Clio. She's quite a beauty herself, but a bit dim."

"Guilty as charged!" the redhead says as she swims up to nearly but not quite reach Helyne's level. The brunette begins to rise to join them, but Clio quietly places a hand on her head and pushes her down. "But it's fine, Helyne's smart enough for all of us."

"Well, almost," Helyne says, looking down at the brunette mermaid. "The third member of our troop here is named Bobbulynne, but we just call her Bob. She's neither pretty nor talented, but she's good for a laugh so we keep her around."

"It's true!" Bob says as she allows Clio to push her down. "I'm pretty much useless!"

"And then there's you," Helyne says as she swims around your cage. "What should we name our new human? How about... Johnny?"

Clio frowns. "You got to name the last one, Helyne. I want to call this one Orlando!"

"I got to name it because I'm the leader and the human expert!" Helyne snaps.

"But it's not fair!" Clio shouts. "I should get a turn! Let me name him!"

"We could just as them what their real name is," Bob suggests.

"SHUT UP, BOB!" Clio and Helyne shout before going right back to bickering with each other. Their argument goes from screams to shrieks as they begin slapping at each other and pulling each other's hair, all while Bob stealthily swims up to your cage.

"Hey, human," Bob whispers, "If you need a kiss, just motion to me, ok? I don't get to give the kisses very often, but I'd really be glad to. We can do it real quick so the others don't see." She stops and glances at her friends to see if they're still fighting before adding, "Even if you don't need one, if you just, say, want to be topped off a bit on air, or just... um... want a kiss for fun, just let me-"

"Bob!" The brunette mermaid freezes and turns to see Helyne bearing down on her. "Are you trying to cozy up to the human while I'm distracted?"

"Of course not!" Bob says as she darts away from Helyne and cowers behind you. "I was just reassuring them-"

"What have I told you, Bob?" Helyne glares daggers at the brunette as she swims up to you and grabs your face in her cold, slender hands. "I get first dibs on kisses." To prove the point, she reaches into the cage, grabs your head, and plants a big wet one on your lips. "Then it's Clio, and then it's you. Pecking orders must be preserved, Bob."

The brunette lowers her eyes and nods. "Yes, Helyne."

Clio, meanwhile, is staring at you in dreamy sort of way. "How young is this one, do you think?" she asks Helyne.

"Oh, no more than a few months old at most," Helyne replies. "Probably just emerged from his boat, poor thing."

"Is that what boats are?" Bob asks. "Human eggs?"

"No, no, they're animals in their own right," Helyne explains. "Humans just parasitize them."

"That's how it works?" Clio asks.

"Yep! Humans tear open a boat's chest cabin and lay their eggs inside. Depending on the size of the boat, they can lay anywhere between one and a couple thousand eggs!"

"Wow!" the other two mermaids say in unison.

Helyne nods sagely at their amazement. "Yes, nature is beautiful, isn't it? Of course, it's a flawed survival strategy. Boats may be large and capable of feeding a human for a few months, maybe a year if they're lucky, but they're fairly weak animals, and easy prey for others." She looks at you sweetly and kisses you again. "That's why these sweet little parasites need our help. They need a mutually beneficial symbiosis, and a mermaid is such a better host than a boat."

Clio scrunches her nose up in disgust. "It's not going to lay eggs in us, is it?"

"Cool!" Bob says with a demented grin.

"Oh no, don't worry," Helyne says. "They can only lay eggs in boats. Trying it with other hosts makes the egg dissolve into a sticky paste." She pinches your cheek. "Our new pet is quite harmless, I assure you!" Once again she swims up to your cage, grabs your head, and forces you to kiss her. "Aren't you, pet? Besides, if he weren't - if he misbehaved - why, he's miles below the surface of the ocean! All we have to do is leave him alone and he'll drown in minutes!" She smiles sweetly, but it doesn't reach her eyes as she stares you down. "And we wouldn't want that, right?"

"Course not, Helyne," Clio says.

"They seem like a nice human, we'll be sure to give them plenty of air!" Bob adds.

"If he behaves," Helyne says.

"That's right, Helyne!" affirms Clio. "So long as he behaves!"

As you sit in your cage, you realize that you really, deeply miss Calibani.

~ ~ ~

After a few minutes of fruitless arguing, Calibani tosses the compass to the ground in frustration. "Wait, shit, that's Sailor's!" she shouts before scrambling to pick it up. After looking it over to make sure there are no scratches, she sighs and opens the trinket again. "You told me to save Sailor," she says to the compass. "How? Do you know where he is?"

And like that, she consults your compass once again.

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 7.3 - You Can't Go Home

As they filter off the train, the smell of iron gets further away and Akira finally begins to relax.

He asks her a ton of questions, partly because he's curious and partly because he wants to keep the focus off himself. Alice is in the middle of talking about her class when her body goes rigid.

Akira scans for a threat but comes up empty. Train stations are generally pretty clear of supernatural creatures, except low-level spellcasters and baby vampires at night. They aren’t much use when you can transportalate, turn into a bat, or run for miles in wolf form. And the fae avoid them altogether. 

“You good?” 

She flinches when he reaches for her hand. “I-I’m fine,” Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Do you smoke? Weed, I mean, not cigarettes. I…I think I’m gonna smoke. Do you wanna come with me?”

“I thought you said you had to turn this assignment in,” he reminds her.

She stares across the platform, but he still can’t figure out what she’s looking at. 

“I’ll do it later. And you don’t have to come. That was weird of me to peer pressure you,” her laugh comes out high-pitched and wrong, “You're probably busy. I’m good. I’m gonna go. And you’ll go, and I’ll just see you later.”

She's babbling and her hands are shaking. There is no universe where he just leaves her like this.

“Yeah, I smoke," he takes her hand and leads her to the exit. "And I got time. No classes, remember?”

Akira has been to the Commons a few times (for creeper reasons), but he's never climbed the tower. The air is especially crisp, but Alice doesn't seem bothered by it.

Despite resisting earlier, he finds himself wishing she would extract some promise from him—some commitment to keep him tied to her. It's a terrible idea. He knows better. Akira has always been careful not to break one of the rules he’d learned by brute force.

“This is a shit weed,” he coughs.

“Hey!” Alice playfully points an accusatory finger, “I invite you to my secret perch and share my paltry stash, and you insult me?”

“You need a new dealer if this is your stash.”

“And a new bank account!” She laughs. “Try to chillax, my dude; you are working against the medicinal benefits.”

He tries. His lungs fill, but it takes three more rounds of coughing before he evens out. Alice, meanwhile, is a professional. She barely coughs, though she's had twice as much as him. He's not even sure she's high.

"Why photography?" he asks when she joins him on the bench.

"Most of the time, I get asked about painting; no one even thinks about photography."

He shrugs, "Your focus isn’t Fine Arts. Why am I gonna ask you about something you don’t do? You want me to guess?" When she nods, he waves a hand across the sky, pretending to paint a picture. "Art lets you remake the world in a more pleasing image, which is kind of nice because the world is shit. But you do photography because you want the shitty stuff upfront. No lies. You'd rather tango with the truth."

She straightens, suddenly alert. "Maybe. Kind of. But photography is also lies. All you do when you snap a picture is capture a moment in time. You can still tell yourself a story about the emotion you saw or what really happened. It's just a different kind of lie from painting."

The weed is definitely kicking in, but he likes her explanation.

"So what are you studying?" she asks.

Direct questions are the hardest to dodge. Especially now when he feels like he’s floating a hundred feet in the air. "I'm studying nothing," he says honestly. "I just follow what interests me."

"Why?"

"Because I have a lot of time." Infinite, actually, if he kept his head attached to his body and didn't end up on the wrong side of a curse.

"If I had time, that's what I'd do too. And catch up on back seasons of 7 Wild Dates."

Akira laughs, "Stop. I changed my mind. That show is moving to the bottom of my watch list."

“Don’t be mean!” Alice sticks out her tongue, "That's quality programming you're missing."

They smoke more and talk about nothing, which feels like talking about everything because Alice leaps from topic to topic. She knows a little about a vast number of subjects, like knowledge for her is a series of wading pools and she's just hopping from one body of water to another.

It's how Akira operates too. Once he gets the gist of something, he's ready to move on.

“Tell me one thing about you so you can stop accusing me of hanging out with a stranger," she says, "Where are you from?”

A flash of pink sky. 

A veil that never seems to part.

A home he can’t get back to.

The yearning is so real he jolts. “What if I told you that nothing about me or my life is what it seems? And because I don’t want to lie to you, you’re probably gonna find I won’t answer all your questions. Maybe any of them.”

Alice thinks for a minute. “I guess I’d say tell me what you can, not what you can’t.”

Akira wants to praise her wordplay. He wants to kiss her. He does neither.

“I love horror movies,” he confesses, “When I was like, 10, I snuck into the Moonlight Massacre Marathon at the theater downtown, and I was fuckin’ hooked.” 

The whole story comes tumbling out, even the part about Titania being a little shit and ratting him out to their parents. Alice laughs and complains about her step-sibling, and Akira viciously guards every drop of information she shares with him.

“I like horror movies too. If I throw in Moonlight Massacre II, will that elevate 7 Wild Dates on your watch list?”

His phone buzzes with a reminder about tonight’s job. He gets to his feet. “Next time,” he tells her.

“You promise?”

A promise is a dangerous thing. 

—A binding thing. 

A vow. 

No promises. 

Akira nods, “Yeah, I promise.”

PREV | NEXT

(Part 3 of 4)

[singingkestrel]

Yet another Muttonchop Monday offering.

[todayisafridaynight]

sometimes i get nishiki i really do

[robotcove]

i lost all my tabs.

all of them.

all 688 of them.

whyyyy

my computer crashed and a popup appeared. i only skimmed over it so i dont remember what it said. i clicked ignore (it would NOT send a report to Mozilla abt the crash) and continued on my journey on chrome (4 tabs open there, all expendable). then i re opened firefox. all my tabs were gone, with no way of restoring the tabs (no previous session, you see.)

so now my dad can be all "well, i guess since you were;nt closing the tabs your cmoputer took things into its own hands"

but the thing is is that i had fanfictions open. and art. and videos and links for tutorials and all this shit.

sure i wasnt using the tabs, but it had taken me so much time to find them and things dissapear on the internet all the time and then you never find them again.

im fucking pissed

part of me wishes that i could go in my macs terminal,write one line of code and make my computer delete itself. suffer the pain i felt.

[tonycries]

BODY-ODY!

Synopsis. Jujutsu powers aren’t used just in fights…sometimes they’re there to make you absolutely lose your mind.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ínnapropriate use of jujutsu techniques, INSANE Gojo, breéding, heats (Choso), spítting, cúmplay, marathon séx, slight jealousy (Toji), creampíe, canon Sukuna lactatíon, FÉRAL boys, ratio technique, limitless, extremely neédy Choso, exhíbitionísm (Geto’s), pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.6k

A/N. Hope y’all have a wonderful new week, I’m eepy so I will eep <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The p*ssy killer!

With Toji’s strength, it was inevitable that he’d break seven bed frames, three couches, and four desks. Unapologetically. 

And with the way he had you like this - splayed out like such a slut on your drenched silken sheets, swollen cock pistoning in and out of your sloppy cunt so easily in that mean mating press he had you folded in - you knew he was well and fully intent on adding to that list. 

“Toji-” you’re gasping over the protesting creaks of the mattress. “S’gonna…”

“S’gonna what, woman?” he rasps out, bringing his ears millimeters away from your pouty mouth. Not even stuttering, smooth taunts falling from his lips each time he bullies his fat length into you. “Can’t hear you over this- damn- bed-”

Another wrecked snap! of wood nearby makes you squeal urgently, clawing for mercy at Toji’s toned hips, “-break! S’gonna break!”

Dark brows furrow in sultry concentration, that tiny scar on Toji’s lips quirking up in a devilish taunt when he gifts another harsh glide of his fat tip against your honeyed g-spot. “Damn right m’gonna break you.”

You don’t get the chance to correct him - you didn’t even need to, because he knew what you meant. He knew. But it was just so fun to shut up those cute lil’ whines of yours. Wrapping two big arms around your thighs to hike them higher up his muscled shoulders, Toji chuckles when you get even more soaked at the feeling of his abs flexing against your skin.

“Heh…s’bad manners to lie, y’know.” Shivers run down your spine at his sweet little scold, only making his grin grow wider. “Ya like bein’ thrown around me like this? Pretending to care about some- fuckin’ bed when all you really want is f’me to ruin this cunt?”

He’s speaking with such confidence - bleeding out from his grunts and churning into each hurried, jagged rut of his cock against your gummy cunt. Using that inhuman strength from his heavenly restriction to maneuver your hips and figure out which angle has you making the sweetest noises. 

You narrow your eyes to meet his glassy one, “M’serious, th-the manager at the ngh- furniture store was concerned last time.”

This earns you a soft smack! right on your sopping slit, Tojis rough palm feeling over the bulge of his massive cock, the hole you were milking him with. Forming a glossy, possessive sheen down his wrist. “You dare talk about another man while m’fucking you like this, doll?”

And, honestly, that desperate wobble of your lips almost makes him feel bad for the way he’s teasing you. Almost makes him wanna cave in and fuck you slow and sensual to save both you and this bed you both had picked out only weeks prior. 

Almost. 

That is until you open your pretty mouth to snap, the words babbling out delirious and bratty. “Well maybe he wouldn’t make me hngh- b-buy a new bed every month.”

Oh. 

That does it. 

You keen when his movements come to a torturous standstill, painfully hard cock stretching out your plush walls to every ridge and curve down his cock. And you can’t help the way your pussy pulses at the low, visceral growl tearing from your boyfriend’s mouth. 

Teeth bared, back muscles flexing as he raises his head up, up, up-

SLAM!

In a split-second, one of Toji’s arms had come down to bang against the already-rickety headboard. Letting a few sluggish seconds of his absolutely animalistic gaze devour you from your dazed, widened eyes to the snug cunt that was sucking the soul out of him - before the bed frame sags on one end with a defeated groan. 

“Whoops.” his words come out in a feverish grunt, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown. “Don’t worry, m’paying tomorrow when we buy a new bed, n’ I can ah- help this manager find you a new one.” A promise - an apology for later.

Still stuffed so deep inside you, he’s securing one arm around you, easily holding you snug against his toned body when Toji gets off the bed - with you hanging onto him in tow. Choking out a gruff, “But for now…”

“F-fuck you’re so deep-” your jaw slacks open to moan sluttily into Toji’s toned pecs, gravity making his greedy thick head slide in so deep to nudge at your cervix. Filling up every nook and crevice of your sweet spots. Molding your cunt to the shape of him. 

And the only response you get is a few sultry, lingering thrusts. His eyes only darting his hazy gaze around the room- shit, where was that desk again? Right, he’d broken it last week. And the loveseat- Ah, that was just last movie night. 

Well, with a low rumble vibrating from his chest, that’s all it takes for you to be spread so shamefully on the bedroom floor. 

Toji’s pushing your face to the cool hardwood, a toned thigh stopping your needy bucking hips, the other keeping your legs open for him to bully back into your hypnotic cunt. Sloppy. Going right for that rhythm from before. 

“Better cum before I break the floor too, huh?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - BULLSEYE

“Ken~”

“No.”

“...p-please?”

“Nope.”

It’s been like this for far too long now - with you bent over your husband’s home office desk, being absolutely pounded into the various work documents he really should’ve been focusing on instead. 

Of course, there was the speckled yellow tie currently digging into your wrists, pinning them both behind you uselessly as if you were some elaborate sex doll for Nanami to plunge his achy cock into. Though, that seemed to be exactly what he was doing.

And he was holding back.

“B-but Ken–” you’re letting out a thick, sultry whine of his name. Teary lashes batting back at the towering man, “I promise I won’t run away this time.”

His response comes out as a rough grunt, “That was what you hah- said last time before it got too good.” A large hand coming up to thread between your tangled wrists, using the leverage to pull you back onto Nanami’s unforgiving ruts of his length. “And the time before that.” Spearing you about halfway along his swollen cock, he’s splitting your poor pussy open. “And the time before that. And right now.”

As if to test your little resolve, his free hand comes down to kiss your ass with a deliciously resounding smack! 

And he’s only humming in satisfaction with your absolute mess of a less-than-composed response. A low gurgle of Nanami’s name in your throat, legs trembling when they fuck down onto his thick cock. Down and up as much as you could, stuttering as if to run away from the burn.

“Shhh shhh, s’okay, my love. You got it.” he’s hushing your moaning cries, soft palm coming to soothe the sting - and the inevitable handprint. “Jus’ like I said- how are ya gonna handle the ratio technique if you can’t handle that?”

“I will.” Is your stubborn response - as expected. 

But to your surprise, your husband only grins, “Thought so.” Using the tie to pull your cunt back to grind deeper against him, “How about this, darling-” Nanami propositions, hips halting down to slow, shallow circles around your gummy walls. Swiping at the sweet spots he hits effortlessly, he whispers. Low and just aching for the type of trouble you always get him into, “-try not to run away before you cum this time  n’ I might consider taking off these for the next round.”

And then, there’s a sudden shift in the air. It suddenly becomes thicker, almost suffocating. You wince at the sudden feeling of atoms around you standing at rapt attention - before that expression is quickly morphing into one of such bliss when Nanami’s fat head slams straight into your g-spot.

Lingering, nudging against your sensitive spot just before it becomes too much before he’s reeling his hips back to do it again. And again. And again and again and-

“Ken ohhh fuck- oh my god-” you’re going cross-eyed, drool dripping down your mouth with how fucking good it felt. That divot at the gummy tip of his cock branding onto your bundle of nerves. “F-forgot how much I love your technique.”

“Oh, I know.” you can hear the grin in his voice over the crackle of jujutsu. Tugging harder on the restraints at your wrists, “Anything for my wife, after all.”

“Then would you hah- ngh- untie me so that I can touch my lovely husband?”

This earns you another gifted smack! to your ass, and an even harder jam of his thorough cock pistoned right at your magical spot. “Not a chance.” He’s absolutely ruining you from the inside out, and you feel like you’re melting with each expert graze of his veins against your honeypot of sweet spots - not missing even a single one.

Your ass is recoiling against Nanami’s sharp hip bones now, leaving a faint heart-shaped print on his hardened abs. Tufts of blond tickling your searing skin, twitching balls slapping against your forgotten clit.

“F-fuck.” your voice wobbles when his scarily accurate aim is making your ravaged cunt cry out in lewd squelches. Drowning out the strain in your voice when you whimper, “That all you got, Ken?” 

“Perhaps.” he huffs slyly against your ear, still pulling back on your restraints. “It’s real a wonder you’re not hah- runnin’ away, yet. Aren’t ya close?”

It wasn’t a question he needed to ask - Nanami could feel the way your slick walls were channeling around him, massaging and convulsing depravedly with each plunge. So fucking wet it was forming a lewd little puddle down to his heavy balls.

So ready.

So near. 

“I-I am.” you admit, gingerly shoving back onto his mean cock as much as you could. Somehow, every minute movement hitting at your weak spots, leaving stars behind your lids.

Oh how you wanted to buck away - the feeling too good that you wanted to run. Nails digging sharp grooves into the expensive wooden desk, knees weakening pathetically. Honestly, it was a wonder you weren’t falling on sorry legs on the floor right now - it wasn’t, because if you were in any better state of mind you’d have registered Nanami’s strong arm under your stomach, holding your entire weight up easily.

“Then cum.” he grits out, absolute need lacing his tone. “Cum f’me - and don’t run away, my love.”

So you do - and you couldn’t run away even if you wanted to. Because he’s securing a vice-like grip on his tie, holding your back flush against the sweaty panes of his muscled torso. Legs unable to move anywhere but back into him as Nanami fucked you through your high. 

Nanami groans at the feeling of you cumming all over his achingly hard cock. Squeezing and trying to milk out the fucking life of him. “Hah…how gorgeous f’me.” He kisses away those tears of overstimulation rolling down your face, though, he’s still nudging against your bruised sweet spots inside. “Now, s’time for you to hold up that bargain, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “T-the cult leader?”

That cute, wide-eyed little question of yours makes the gorgeous man in front of you chuckle. A deep, slow baritone that sends shivers right down to where he had you sat on the outline of his thick, straining erection.

“Of course I am.” he purrs against the shell of your ear, shuffling you around so the drenched excuse of your panties was making a mess on the damp spot at his leaky tip. “What about it?”

“Well then why-” you look over your shoulder at the rows upon rows of Geto’s cult members. Faces still, expressionless. Bowed at the waist to look at the floor - but still ever-present. Murmuring in confusion, “-why can’t you tell them to go?”

Another sultry smile. “Oh, gorgeous.” He swipes the tip of his fingers at your syrupy juices, promptly stuffing his mouth full of your heady taste. Moaning so hedonistically, “They’re here for you.”

And then Geto’s shuffling around the expensive robes of his yukata, having you bouncing precariously on his lap when he frees his achingly hot erection. So so red and angry. 

It’s all you can do to bite back your embarrassment when he’s dragging your sloppy cunt all over that veined length of his. Jolting when a hand of his smushes your cheeks together in a pathetic pout,  “Look at me.” he muses, dark dangerous eyes boring into yours. “They’re your welcoming party, after all. Don’t worry, you’re only mine to see n’-” Pecking at your lips in an innocently languid kiss, “-I’ll kill them if they look.”

Right as he says this, Geto’s slipping his fat head past your sopping slit, such a sinful expression of ecstasy taking over his delicate features at the first taste of your heavenly cunt.

“O-ohhh fuck.” he groans, hips coming up in bullying little thrusts to lodge himself inside. “Mmpf- my girl’s cunt feels s’fuckin’ good. How the fuck do you feel this good?”

You’re panting at the sheer stretch - the feeling of your puckering hole being split apart so blatantly - and for hundreds of others to see. Candied lips coming up to graze his in a messy clash, “My girl?”

Ah, just hearing those words echoed back to him has Geto thrusting up mindlessly into your plushy walls. A hand coming back to circle around your clit pooling your juices back on his addicted fingers. 

“Yes-” his long tongue darts out to catch those drops of your slick. Before diving back in again- and again and- “My girl. My pussy. And every one of these little worthless pigs are going to know that now.”

You could practically feel the wave of shudders that run through your audience. But a quick glimpse back showed that they all stayed firmly rooted to their spot, eyes trained on the luxurious carpet of Geto’s hideout. Whereas you were shivering for a whole other reason - because Geto’s lengthy fingers are back to toying with your poor cunt. 

Two of them spreading out your puffy pussy lips to show off how greedy you were being - the way your dripping cunt couldn’t do anything but milk Geto Suguru for each and every one of his delicious inches. Taking him so well as he pounded up lazily into you, making the fat of your ass jiggle with each calculated pump. 

It’s so filthy - so agonizing. 

He noses up your racing pulse, “Heh, I can tell ya liked that, pretty. You just go so much wetter, almost drippin’ onto the floor.” You weren’t - yet, simply forming a glossy mess of slick all over the cult leader’s distinctive robes. “So sloppy I bet they’ll see soon.”

“But you said-” you’re choking when a particularly hard thrust has you clinging onto his broad shoulders for stability. Fingernails blemishing his worshiped skin with red, raw marks gifted from you. “-said m’only yours to see.”

Oh, how he knew you’d be fucking fun.

There’s an almost reverent pitch in Geto’s throaty rasp, “You’re right.” As if seeing you for the first time - and he’s just ramming into you with a greedy grin. “So fuckin’ right.”

Geto’s dick is so girthy that it fills out every crevice inside your pussy that you didn’t even know existed. Balls a rightfully sinful side of heavy that made a loud smack! ripple throughout the otherwise deathly quiet room. 

“You’re mine.” he whispers, strained like he was losing a bit of his sanity with each press up against your spongy cervix. “N’ I should fuck you like you are.” Which had Geto teething down your jaw, your earlobe - sharp canines digging hard when he bites down at the crook of your neck. Enough to draw blood, to break skin, to have you screaming out for- mercy? More? But he’s already plowing on, “N’ everyone here will accept it.”

He lets out such a lovely moan in tandem with yours, head thrown back when his thrusts get untimed. Sloppy. Glistening with need and slick as you mewl, “S-Sugu m’close m’gonna cum-”

Bang!

You whirl your head up to see Geto with his free hand held out, eyes wide, crazed - glaring intensely at something over your shoulder. Something you don’t get to see, because he’d tilting your head back to his in a romantic gesture.

“Told you I’d kill them if they looked.” He breathes, over the distinct growling of his rainbow dragon. Kissing gently at your lips, the tip of his fat cock colliding into your g-spot. “Now, where were we?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Like an animal

There was something that no one in the jujutsu world spoke about the most advanced curses - something hidden. Something dirty. Something that had you crying out where you straddled Choso’s fat cock, big bulbous tears rolling down your cheeks, throat shot when he was stuffing your poor pussy full of his fifth orgasm this rut. 

“Please oh- please.” Choso whines, hips stuttering up into your gummy depths. Strong arms circling your waist to hold you still while his fat head paints your walls white with thick streams of his seed, “Take it- fuck fuck fuck jus’ take it for me.”

Each sloppy half-thrust is all he can manage to drag you through your own climax, lips falling into a soft oh! at the dredges of your sweet sweet juices slobbering down his shaft. 

“Baby…” Choso starts, greedy eyes just devouring that sinfully creamy ring now forming around his soaked hilt. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps, voice cracking at the end, “I think-”

And you know that tone. You know what it bodes for your sensitive cunt. Reminded that it’s currently that time of year for your poor curse boyfriend. When something dark, and primal pokes its head out. Aching to touch you, to breed you - killing him to make you his. 

So you’re gasping out in disbelief, “Cho- what! Again?” Scrambling to perch your hands on his pecs and sit up, “The heat’s still not done?”

You don’t get very far - because he pulls you back onto his body with a possessive tug. Looking up at you with big, teary eyes, “No.”

His syrupy words are coated in desperation, a few octaves higher than normal as he murmurs against your open lips. “N’ it’s a rut, baby. All m’gonna wan’ ngh- do is fuck this cute pussy.” he coos, a slick-glossed fist dipping down to squeeze out the last few beads of cum out of his base and into your overspilling cunt. “Don’t think I’ll ever be done- not until she’s properly bred. Not until- fuck m’not gonna- get out of this alive.”

As if he hadn’t just wrangled out another overstimulated high, Choso’s bucking his hips up sloppily into yours. Toned back arching off of the cotton sheets - soaked and absolutely ruined with pools of your sin. 

Over and over and-

“But Cho–” you babble out when his girth is thrashing back at those sensitive areas inside that he’s mapped out so many times before this. “I think I’m not gettin’ out of ngh- this alive.”

In his barely-lucid state, Choso’s taking this as a compliment, flashing a crooked, pussydrunk grin up at you. Face flushed a pretty pink, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead when he bats his heavy lashes, “Mhm.” 

Then he takes the opportunity when your lips fall slack in shock at his response to plant a steady stream of his spit. Missing purposefully to thumb away the splattered sheen of him along the corner of your swollen lips. “N’ you hah- not going out until g-get this cute pussy pregnant, m’kay?”

The notion is so dizzying that for a moment you don’t believe him. He doesn’t wait for your response - doesn’t have to. 

Back to his mind-numbing addiction of spearing your heavenly pussy on his angry cock. Like he couldn’t stop himself.

Again. And again. And again and again.

And he thinks you look so pretty like this - steady gushes of his cum dribbling down your shamefully spread puffy folds, thighs pathetically shaky trying to keep up with his frenzied tempo. 

A whiny ah! ah! ah! leaves your mouth with each kiss against your ravaged g-spot.

“Cho- I don’t think- ngh I can cum again-” your heavy lips part open to moan. Feeling so raw everywhere. “Are you really gonna-”

“Say it.” he begs. Two hands of his coming up to knead your sensitive tits, running his thumbs in awe over your puffy nipples. “Say it- say it please-” He’s attaching his pretty pink lips around one, cheeks hollowing while he sucks as if trying to draw out something delicious. “Please, ma.”

Fuck - you don’t know what you’re getting wetter at - the lil’ nickname or the way Choso’s dancing a hand down to draw sultry, purposeful circles. Syrupy slick saturating all over his toned pelvis with each ram of his hips.

You’re keening, “Are you fuuuuck jus’ like that- are you really gonna fuck a baby into me? Or die trying?”

“Let’s see…” he lets out a low drawl, quieting down to let your obscene squelches take over. Music to his ears, drunk off of every sound with every harsh piston of his hips. Loud. He gives your clit a hard pinch, grinning, “Yeah. My girl’s pretty cunt says I can.”

It only takes a few more hard crashes of his thick head against your sweet spots before you’re clawing at the headboard, the sheets, him - just anything to hold onto an ounce of your sanity while you’re cumming and cumming and cumming so hard you can’t stop. Wave after wave of your high being dragged out of you.

And if you couldn’t stop - then Choso wouldn’t. Whispering praises slurring together and sticking against your mouth as he spills his potent seed into you once more. 

Wispy strings filling all the way at the back of your pussy while he fucks you through your high. Milking himself on you like some cocksleeve - addicted. Needing to breed you.

Which is why, when his spotty vision catches a trickle of his own seed out of your bloated pussy, Choso’s clicking his tongue. Thumbing your swollen folds further apart, he gives your clit a slow rub to wake up your droopy eyes. “Rut’s not over yet, ma.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Got milk?

“Tch. Stubborn lil’ thing.” the king of curses lets out a proud noise of disagreement - but you catch that tint of red on his high cheekbones, the way his swollen tip twitches wildly against your gummy walls. “S’not gonna work.”

The only response he gets is a cooing hum, your fingers dancing over Sukuna’s pecs to squeeze and grope at the curve of muscle.

So hypnotized with what you’re doing, it’s almost embarrassing for him. And all he can do is tighten the greedy grip he has on the fat of your ass, sliding your sopping cunt down, down, down until your throbbing clit scratches against those tufts of pink. Sitting so prettily on his throne.  

At the site of your lewd entrancement, Sukuna scoffs in frustration, “I told you, brat. I don’t know if you’re already fucked dumb on my cock but- ngh–” 

And oh the great Ryomen Sukuna whines - he whines, such a pretty noise that makes your elastic walls tighten around his rock-hard shaft. Rutting up deeper into your pussy so mindlessly mean when you wrap your pretty lips around one of his puffy nipples. 

“I know what you said, Kuna.” your voice sends vibrations all the way down to his needy cock. Leaky and angry where he was dragging inside your cunt. “But I also know what I heard.” Sucking. Harsh. “And a little birdie told me that someone can make milk-”

“Fuckin’ Uraume.” Sukuna spits, hips picking up the pace now that he has the answer he’s looking for. Long fingernails leaving neat little marks on your skin, “N’ you seriously believed that shit?”

And then he’s making your back arch more, kicking out your thighs even further to spread over the stretch of his girth. Fucking deeper and deeper until he was sure he was massaging at every inch of your walls. 

Managing through pure hissy rage to punctuate each ram of his shaft with threats, “Don’t believe that fuckin’ rumor I swear I’ll kill-” The words die in Sukuna’s chest when he’s snapping his pussydrunk head down at you - the same chest you were still pawing greedily at. “Oi, what did I tell ya?”

When you don’t make a move to remove yourself, he’s dancing a hand down to toy with your neglected clit. Forcing your dazed mouth to pull away. 

“I-I don’t know, Kuna.” you purr, still gasping for air. “Because-” You roll his raw nipples between your fingers again - desperate. Making him hiss. Glassy eyes snapping down to the way he was fucking you so filthy now. “-you seem to love this.”

And he can’t deny it - can’t make up any excuse for the way he was bouncing you along his fat veiny length like some cocksleeve. Pussy lips kissing him tenderly, thick head gliding across your cervix. Sinking into your drenched cunt so desperate. 

Yet, he grits out, “Won’t work.”

“Will.” you smirk, still teasing his pecs the exact same way he’d do with your tits. 

“Won’t.”

“Wi- hah-” your words are being gulped down by Sukuna’s sharp canines nipping on your lips. Drinking in your heady moans with every bullying thrust into your walls. Soft pads of his fingers thumbing at your clit, your puffy folds, pushing himself deeper and deeper. “You’re so unfair-”

That drags out a ragged grin from him, the wet smack of skin-on-skin music to his ears at this point. He’s wiping away the excess drool on your lips from your antics, “Maybe you’re just too gullible. So why don’t you hah- put that pretty mouth instead to-”

And then it happens. 

Your cockdrunk eyes manage to focus on that tiny, beading pearl of white at the very tip of Sukuna’s mouthwatering nipples. Without a second thought, you surge forwards, reattaching your lips with his ravaged skin. 

“O-oh fuck-” he shudders, fingers stuttering where they were drawing obscene circles on your clit. “Wait fuck oh- fuck fuck fuck, brat.”

That’s all it takes for him to cum. Balls squeezing so fucking painfully as Sukuna cums harder than he has in the thousands of years on this Earth. Mashing his cock into you, drawing out every lengthy spurt of his seed to paint your cunt white. 

“Take it-” You don’t know if he’s talking about his cum or his milk. “Fuckin’ take if you want it so bad.”

Each shrill profanity has him reaching deep into your gummy core, bowing his body further to your greedy mouth. The sobbing wet smacks of your lips having him humping you fast. Messy. 

And shit anyone would faint if they saw the infamous king of curses like this - if he didn’t kill them first, that is. 

You, however, his favorite lil’ human, was having the time of your life. Thick globs of cum smearing down your thigh, forming a slippery coating where you were sucking him through his high. Sukuna’s sweet sweet milk treacles down your lips, rich and syrupy. So much that it was spilling down onto lewd little puddles on the curve of your tits. 

“Oi, fuck you greedy little slut.” Sukuna coos at your ravenous pursuit, the way you were pinching at his pecs for more. “Don’t waste- ngh- any of it.”

And upon seeing that grin of yours - that devilishly smug, white-glossed smirk - Sukuna all but forces your lips to crash against his. Hips fucking up menacing - still so pointedly hard, while he tastes himself. “Don’t think m’not gonna make you pay back tenfold for this embarrassment, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Sanity? Optional.

You wondered just how high the kill count would be.

In the hundreds? No, you fear, when your boyfriend slams your apartment door open, eyes hooded, glowing. Barely getting a word out before he’s pouncing on you like a wolf starved, ripping off that useless excuse of shorts with only two fingers.

In the thousands? Probably not, you think, when he doesn’t waste a moment before shoving the entirety of his angry, leaking shaft into your sloppy hole. The only apology you’re getting for the moment being a few praises and whispers of “buying a new pair of shorts for you.”

In the hundreds of thousands? Maybe, you muse, when immediately Gojo is smearing his fat tip against your cervix. Sinking his way into your heavenly pussy to wreak havoc on you where he could be going out of control and destroying a few cities. 

“Nah, millions.” His slow, sensual purr is ringing in your ears, and you have half the mind to wonder whether Gojo had a mind-reading technique, too. Greedy lips dragging up to mouth over your thumping pulse. Dangerous. “Might just take out hah- this whole fuckin’ city if it wasn’t for this ngh- sweet pussy hypnotizing me.”

Each and every babble falling from Gojo’s candied pink lips are followed by some of the meanest thrusts. Having his tight balls smack against your ass, running his mouth as mindlessly as he’s fucking you into the living room couch he happened to find you in. 

You’re gasping when his long fingers come down to give your poor clit a buzzing tap! Sending sparks with the very dredges of his jujutsu. 

“T-Toru what happened?” you’re managing to gasp out, your ears popping at the pressure of the air around your two. “Why are you so-”

“Feral? Out of control? Maniacal?” he fires off, a devilish grin spreading with each suggestion. Eyes wide, tinged with an electric glow, voice breaking desperately as he plows on, “Absolutely fucking losing it?”

If either of you were in a better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the way that lamp on the edge of the coffee table exploded. Shards of glass flinging across the room and stopping short where Gojo had limitless poring over the two of you.

“Well, you see…” he’s humming so sing-song, large hands coming up to wrangle your thighs onto his broad shoulders. Gnawing down on his worried bottom lip when he’s trying to squeeze himself impossibly deeper inside you, “-I had a bad day.”

“That’s it!?”

Those startled words are bursting from your lips without any thought. And they have Gojo narrowing his eyes at you like a predator cornering his prey, teasing grin curling down into something almost garish.

He hikes a muscled thigh up, fingers tightening around the plush of your thighs. “Yes, that’s it.”

It’s quiet - barely audible, even - followed by a low thrust that reaches you all the way in the bottom of your pussy. Somehow bruising - Gojo’s fat tip clashing against your g-spot, your cervix, so hard it makes a broken whimper drag from your shot throat.

And this seems to jolt him back to his senses somewhat, that furiously depraved glint flickering in his summer blue eyes. “Oh, sweetheart.” he sighs, crashing his lips against yours in a sloppy mess of teeth and spit. “Couldn’t stop hngh- thinkin’ about you all day. Couldn’t stop wanting- needing-”

He’s cutting himself off with a pained groan, back to having the soft pads of his fingers roll over your clit in humming, sultry circles. Little buzzes of his electricity going right through your veins. “Fuck, s’all I thought of even when- hah- fighting. Just you, my girl, waiting at home f’me to stuff you full of my cock.”

Sloppier. Incessant - just milking himself on the dripping channel of your cunt. Deep, lingering thrusts that have you missing him every time he’s reeling back. A few stuttering pops of bones have you spitting out slobbering little pleas into Gojo’s panting mouth, gummy walls sucking him in so good. Clamping down until it was almost difficult for him to ram into your greedy pussy. 

Honestly, whatever shreds of your rationality wondered how the fuck you two were still unharmed, still having no bones broken - it was because of his reverse curse technique, you later learn.

But for now all that was going through your honeyed, oversaturated mind was how full you were of him and only him - until you could barely even breathe-

“Hey hey now.” His words a smooth coo, not betrayed just how ragged his hips were. Another few smacks of his ruthless fingers right down your sopping slit have you wrenching your eyes back up at him. Your poor clit getting caught in the crossfire, leaving lewd smears glistening all over Gojo’s palm. The overhead lights flicker, illuminating little blue specks of lightning as he kisses gently on your forehead, “F-fuck- keep up, pretty.”

Somehow, you manage to gasp, “Keep up?”

“Mhm, because m’not fuckin’ done until I pass out.”

The words are pushing you over the edge, and before you know it, your velvety walls are squeezing around Gojo’s engorged cock so tight. So heavenly as he fucks you through your high - not even bothering to ease you into it, he couldn’t.

And it only takes a few silky whines of his name out of your mouth before he’s beading out pearly white spurts of cum. Overspilling into the snug channel of your pussy, thick seed gushing out as Gojo shoves it deeper and deeper to decorate your walls. His snowy brows knit together when he cums and cums so fucking hard it’s like something bursts.

And something did - every single lightbulb within a fifteen mile radius of your apartment. 

But you don’t notice, too caught up in Gojo’s syrupy sweet hum, “Well, m’not passed out yet n’ since the electricity’s gone I guess there’s only one thing to do, huh~”

A/N. LMFAOOO Toji acting like he can afford to buy another bed smh. Also the way Sukuna being able to lactate is canon?? Gege you hoe.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nezuscribe]

arguing with arranged!gojo is difficult because he’s not used to arguing with women and you’re not used to arguing period.

it rarely happens, but when it does it gets really heated between the two of you. you pace around your room, huffing as gojo stands there with his arms crossed, nose flaring.

like that one time he found out that one of the new guards the brought in from the west was somebody you used to fool around with.

yeah that was bad.

“why do you even care!” you snap at him, and he can’t find a plausible reason aside from the fact that he was purely jealous.

this guard that they’d brought in from the west, much to your shock, was somebody you used to see in the late hours of the night. you never did anything frisky, just some shared kisses here and there.

but the moment you saw him, your whole demeanor changed. and gojo could tell. it took a bit of picking and prodding (which gojo is great at) but you eventually told him the story.

and he was not excited to hear it.

“i want him gone,” he tells you and you roll your eyes, shrugging indefinitely.

“fine,” you throw your arms up, “get him out. but what about those girls? you think i don’t want them gone whenever we walk into one of those balls or those dinners? when i see the way they look at you? you think that’s easy for me?”

“it’s different,” his tone is unwavering and cold.

you scoff, shaking your head in dismay.

“what? what’s so different? that i kissed him? big deal!” you feel like you want to cry and yell and jump and scream at the same time.

because it was different. for you. because the men didn’t seem to care that gojo had a new wife, or that he cared for her. but the ladies did. they gossiped in frenzied tones, batted their eyelashes at him even more as if that could cast him away from your spell.

so you didn’t know why he cared so much about this one man. why it should matter to him when he’s had far, far more experiences than you.

you felt hurt that he doubted you, angered with his hypocrisy, and tired from spending the entire day ignoring each other.

“this is going nowhere,” you mutter eventually, picking up your pillow as his eyes drop to your hands, “i’m sleeping somewhere else.”

“what-”

“and don’t follow me,” you bite out, not even glancing behind your shoulder as you begin to sulk out of your shared bedroom to your old one all across the estate.

and sure, maybe you’re not being entirely fair. there’s been some petty arguments when he bumps into one of his old girls, but it didn’t hurt nonetheless when he accused you of lying, when the conversation of your old romantic life was just never brought up.

you wipe at the stray tears on your cheek as you slug down the stairs, sniffling to yourself as you curse your husband to hell and back, when a force unlike any other picks you up from behind.

“what?” you squeal, your body manicured over a strong shoulder, your legs near his torso, your eyes facing his back as you kick at him, “let me go, i’m going to fall!”

“don’t make me laugh,” gojo murmured, one strong arm around your waist, the other around your thighs as he hauls you back up the stairs.

“i told you not to follow me,” you grumble, pinching his back but he doesn’t react.

“you’re funny if you think i’ll let you sleep alone.”

your brows furrow, feeling the need to kick him, but also not wanting him to drop you.

it doesn’t take long for him to reach your bedroom, opening the door with his free hand (unbridled strength if the greatest warrior of the north meant he could pick you up with just one hand) and plops you back on the mattress.

you prop yourself up on your elbows, looking away, hoping he can’t see the tear marks.

because it did hurt. his words hurt you. they cut deep. and he notices, his gaze softening slightly.

“don’t cry,” he whispers, leaning down to trace your tears away but you swat his hand off of your face.

“then don’t make me cry,” you say with a heavy sigh, siting upwards, back slightly hunched.

you take a deep breath, rubbing at your eyes as you glance upwards at him. it’s been a while since the two of you had fought, and the first time over something serious, and he looks awful.

“i don’t judge you for being with those girls,” you start with a heavy whisper, “you did what you could to stay sane. but don’t judge me for doing the same.”

gojo breathes deeply through his nose, blinking.

“you’re right,” he says after a heavy second, causing you too look up in confusion.

he nods again, his big hand cup your jaw, his thumb rubbing your cheek as he catches the stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“you’re right and i’m sorry,” he repeats, and you’ve never had somebody agree with you before, “i just…saw the way he looks at you and…i didn’t like it.”

you offer him a small nod.

“but he just looked at me,” you shift so that your resting on your haunches, hands in your lap. he towers over you, one hand going to cradle the back of your head.

gojo shrugs, like he can’t put it into comprehensible words how he felt when that guard looked at you with hunger in his eyes. how only he was allowed to look at you with such starvation.

“i didn’t like it,” he can only repeat, and you know he struggles with his emotions, spent years hiding them so that they wouldn’t become his weakness.

“do you want to sleep?” he finally asks you, and you slowly blink, trying to hide the tiredness from your face.

“i’ll still be here when you wake up,” he offers and you crack a small smile, trying to hide it from him.

but your smile drops as you think, eyes darting up to his.

“it’s okay to not like something, and it’s okay to feel angry that you don’t. but don’t ever, ever, make me feel like that again because of it.”

your stare is unwavering, and he feels a certain sense of pride in seeing that. and gojo nods, one steady movement as he drops down to his knees, trying to be level with your gaze.

“you have my full authority to strike me down if i do,” he promises, his hands cupping your face, his words serious but you can’t help but giggle.

“good,” you murmur, tugging slightly harshly on some of the strands of his hair as he winces, pushing you back onto the bed with the sheer force of his body, climbing up into you as he hold you close to him.

you let out another laugh as he acts like a bear cub, not wanting to move an inch away from your warmth as he cuddles into you, trying to finish his massive size compared to you.

the two of you laid in silence, a comfortable one, as he laid his head in your chest, hearing the steady rhythm of your heart.

“i am sorry,” he whispers, craning his neck to look up at you as he rests his chin on your sternum, “i’m sorry.” he says again, his words barely above a sound.

you blink again, moving some of the hair away from his face as you observe his sorrowful features.

“i know,” you whisper back.

gojo finds your hands, interweaving your fingers together, heart tugging when he feels your ring against his skin.

he brings the finger to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the ring as you watch him silently. no other words needed to be said, no words left unspoken as he pulls you into his chest.

because no woman would amount to a sliver of you. and no man would amount to a morsel of him.

[astonmartinii]

copycat | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader

they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!

f1tea

liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others

tagged: yourusername, chloereed

f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?

view all comments

user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?

user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO

user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...

user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?

user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences

user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her

user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in

user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)

user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon

user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE

user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO

user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good

user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n

user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n

user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch

user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments

user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast

user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell

yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)

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user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU 💜

user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it

oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway

landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???

oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?

landonorris: ur so close-minded osc

yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up

landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?

oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?

landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?

yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack

landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED

mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???

user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver

user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!

georgerussell63: understood 🫡

user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???

user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection

user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks

charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?

yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment

charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?

yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT

charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown

landonorris: ???

oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?

yourusername: no more papaya rules?

chloereed

liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others

chloereed: summer breakin'

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user33: oh brother this guy STINKS

user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar

user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?

user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce

user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation

logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)

user38: not logan tapping in

logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job

chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate

logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?

chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me

logansargeant: you like need help

user39: GO LOGAN

user40: bro has been let of the leash

user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally

user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?

user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar

user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse

user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit

f1

liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri

f1: we're ready for you monza

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user46: OMG IS THAT?

user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her

user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN

landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?

yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up

chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?

yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge

chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing

yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you

user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg

user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming

user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners

maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane

user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?

maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back

charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername

yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails

oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it

chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will

oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off

user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol

user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3

f1tea

liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others

f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?

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user55: i FUCKING hope so

user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious

user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her

user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry

user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful

user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out

user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in

user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them

user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic

user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose

user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n

user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe

user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO

user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me

user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol

oscarpiastri

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be

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user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN

user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>

yourusername: love you bby

oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat

yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour

oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3

user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro

user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?

user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon

landonorris: ???

user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius

landonorris: OH

chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar

oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN

oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON

oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE

oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked

oscarpiastri: slay

user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio

yourusername: don't make him do community service :(

user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community

yourusername: you make a good point

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original

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user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you

user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE

oscarpiastri: 🤨

charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?

yourusername: never again hopefully

charles_leclerc: boring!

yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'

charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live

user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you

user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds

oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you

yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful 😔

oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what

yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy

landonorris: cringe

yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed

landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad

yourusername: trust me, you need the help

user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander

user83: they're power is insane

maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service

yourusername: fuck yes

maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest

fin.

note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.