#technically/as well. in the patch notes.

[burgojo]

KILLER? I BARELY KNOW HER! FUSHIGURO TOJI / M!READER

summary. shadows of your past catch up to you – but you're the strongest, and there's nothing you can't handle.

wc. 5.5k

tags. smut | top reader, bottom toji. mentions of underage drinking. sorcerer + teacher reader, enemies-to-lovers (with extra steps), sorta sugar baby toji/rich reader, doggystyle + missionary, mentions of exhibitionism + filming, unprotected sex, brief degradation (r. receiving), brief breeding kink, implied shower sex

notes. every dark-haired male jjk character deserves a silly and illogically powerful best friend with whom they have romantic tension :3 you're him. literally.

The pleasant chime of the doorbell echoes throughout your home. You're not expecting anyone.

You know you should be careful. In fact, you shouldn't be staring at the back of the front door at all. Opening it would ruin the carefully put-together façade of the closed-curtain windows and dark rooms.

Maybe you're tired, and you forget, moving on instinct. Maybe you're bored.

Maybe you're hopeful.

The door inches open, and a man looks up from where he'd been staring listlessly at the flower-spotted bushes lining the patch of green between the entrance and the driveway. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and his eyes are dark, flickering with an emotion you can't quite catch before it flutters away.

"Toji?" you say, the surprise in your voice teetering on warmth. "Hey..."

"Hey," he replies – exhales, really, something like a hum. He reaches up by his shoulder, the action too familiar for you not to stiffen, but he just rubs the back of his neck, stretching out the cricks of his body. "So. New place, huh?"

Your hand rests behind the door. He knows better than to expect it to be empty. "Old, technically. It was my first property purchase."

He tilts his head. "Yeah? When did you get it?"

"Fifteen. A birthday present for myself – a gift for surviving another year of high school. And curses, I guess. Surviving them was way worse because getting their blood in my mouth made me want to die."

He scoffs, and the raised scar over the corner of his lips shifts with his amusement. "Fifteen... And what does a teenager do with a house?"

You shrug. "Drink. Party. Pirate movies. The usual."

"Hah. Sounds like you were a fun kid." Toji scuffs the toe of his sandals against the ground absently. Then he rolls his neck and sighs. "Look, I didn't come all the way here to talk history. Long-ass way out, too, so just let me in."

Lifting an eyebrow, you give him a once-over that feels keener than it should be. "Are you here to kill me?"

"What, you think I'm here for that bounty? Who do you think I am?"

"Don't blame me. You seem very well aware of it."

"Isn't worth the effort for the price. 'Sides, you've given me more than that over the years, haven't you? I like to keep my options open, and it seems to me like it's a better investment to keep you alive."

"You talk as if you could kill me at all," you mutter, a little disdainfully, but it dissipates swiftly when Toji cracks a smirk, so familiar and entwined deeply with your favourite memories. The breeze stirs lightly, and Toji's hair ruffles, almost blue in the sunlight.

"Couldn't I? You're the one who runs away."

"Yeah, after immobilising you. Not a lot of fun to be had if you're dead as a doornail. Say – how deep are you in the jujutsu world? You must be rusty. I'd be willing to help you train."

"You'd help me kill your fellow sorcerers?" He chuckles and arches a brow. "I'll have you know I'm looking at a contract worth thirty million from a bunch of religious crazies."

"Peanuts." You wave a dismissive hand. "Now that I mention it, I'm getting complacent, too... I could use the challenge. Keep in contact with me and I'll pay you double."

"You're paying me to use my body?"

"Your words, not mine."

He holds your gaze steadily for a while, and despite his airy voice, his eyes are thoughtful. "Let's not talk business on your doorstep. Lost your manners, have you?"

Finally, your shoulders loosen, and the tension in your body vanishes. With a soft chuckle, you pull the door open further and step aside. "Don't make me regret this."

"Please," he says, slipping out of his sandals and into your home. "You never do."

Zenin. Fushiguro. The Sorcerer Killer. All of his names, all of his history, and yet, to you, he is just your baby – your Toji. It'd be embarrassing if he cared enough to be embarrassed, he thinks as you draw him into a rib-shattering hug. Instead, he feels smug.

Before that Gojo kid, there was you. It wasn't a position you were born for – like the kid was – but you trained your way up and eventually found yourself most suited for the role, all but waltzing into it – because what youth wouldn't want to be number one? It was almost gross, your selflessness and single-minded ambition, and Toji knew how that sort of mindset made the people in power feel. They commissioned him for your death at one point, after all.

It was fun. You were both so young: dancing around each other's weapons as if it was all a stage, chasing each other's clues like a couple of dogs running after a bone. Still – you were society's best, the cream of the crop, and for you to be his, of all people, was a selfish triumph he indulged in too many times to count.

His hands creep up beneath your baggy shirt as he leans up to kiss you, tongue slipping between your lips to share in the taste of some expensive whisky he can't name. He hums – a low, rumbling sound, like a tiger chuffing – as his fingers bump over thick, warm muscle.

Blood and bone. That's what you all are, when it comes down to it.

"You should wear tighter clothes," he murmurs against your lips. "Less to grab in a fight."

The backs of his thighs press into the edge of the kitchen bench, where a forgotten glass of water sits – the remnant of your half-hearted attempt at being a good host while his lips found your neck.

You huff. "A 'fight', huh? I wasn't expecting one."

"You should always expect a fight. While you're at it, always expect to lose. Stops you from being disappointed."

"Sounds pessimistic."

"That's the price we pay for being good at what we do."

"As if you pay for anything, Toji."

He chuckles. He drops the hem of your shirt before sliding his palms up your chest – what a tease – and cupping your face. His hands are warm, callused, thrumming with lifeblood. He sweeps his thumb absently over your cheek, committing every pore of your face to memory. You have the urge to pull away, look down, like a schoolboy with a crush – but Toji's hands are firm.

"C'mon, at least look me in the eye before we kick this off. You that ashamed of me?"

Startled, your gaze flicks up to his. Instead of the half-wry look you expect, he smirks and pulls you in to meet his lips. His fingers interlace loosely at the nape of your neck, caging you in place, and you have no choice but to bend to his whim.

"Stupid," you mutter against his lips, mostly to yourself. "Stop playing with my feelings, Toji – that's manipulative. You're breaking my heart here."

Rather than pulling away himself, he pushes you away, a palm flat on your chest but without any real power. It remains there as he leans back against the stone countertop. "My bad, baby. It's just funny."

"Funnier than you calling this," you gesture between your chests, "something to 'kick off' after... how many years? If you weren't all over me seconds ago, I'd think you came over for a beer and a game."

He lifts his hands in teasing surrender at your accusatory tone. "All right. We'll fuck, then. Maybe include some heavy petting for the B-roll, if you're up for it. Sound good?"

You cross your arms over your chest and muster up a suitable amount of annoyance for a glare. Toji finds it hard to take you seriously – what with your dumb jokes and ridiculous inclination towards flashy fighting – so to him, it's more of a pout. "So, you got lonely without me, huh? Yeah, nah. We're not filming ourselves."

"Hm." It's not a yes, but it's not a disagreement, either. "Why not? It'd be hot."

"I'm a teacher, Toji," you remind him, clicking your tongue when he shrugs, one hand on his hip. "I don't want that kind of thing to exist. If it got out..."

"So you are ashamed of me," he mutters. He steps forward to grab your hands when you start to protest, visibly distressed. He snickers. "Kidding, kidding. Fuck, it's fun to play with you. You don't care about the other one, then? The one from the abandoned restaurant?"

"Well—" Your breath stutters when Toji absently compares hand sizes and laces your fingers together. You watch as he aligns four of his fingers against your ring finger specifically, one at a time as if comparing again, but this time...

"Well?" he prompts, his grin broadening. His shaggy hair falls across his eyes as he tilts his head.

"Well, I don't look like I did ten years ago, and as far as I know, my face isn't in it..." All logic scatters like leaves in the wind when he looks up at you through his lashes, that playful, pretty smirk of his tugging at your heartstrings just right. It's like the years never passed. You swallow. "I-It was different," you finish lamely.

Toji's eyes flicker down to your lips. With a flick of his wrist, he twists a hand in your collar and tugs you down so that your faces are inches apart. Your chests collide roughly. He doesn't seem to care, his gaze trained on you with a heavy, smoky intensity. "Fine. If you won't let me film it, you better make it memorable. I'll decide later if it was worth coming here for."

—

Toji should have known you were serious when you pulled the bedframe about six inches out from the wall. He'd laughed at first, insulting you for such uptight behaviour regarding something as boring as walls, but you'd just dragged him to the bed with a roll of your eyes.

With how loud he was moaning, you could only be glad that he didn't find you at your apartment property.

"Toji," you breathe, your gaze trapped on the tight, firm ass ricocheting off your hips. Your grip tightens. "Toji."

"Fuuuck," he drawls as his cock throbs, prying his eyes open to narrow them at you over his shoulder. Lust has turned the usual green of them nearly black. "What?" he bites out.

"I missed you. Missed this. Fuck, baby, you're so fucking tight."

He lets out a throaty chuckle, turning back around to rest his head on his forearms. With a shift of your hips, your cock punches his prostate, over and over, and his eyes roll back briefly, a pleased groan rumbling from the depths of his stomach. His dick pulses and swings uselessly between his muscular thighs.

"M-Men are all the same," he grumbles. You click your tongue, though you don't miss the way an involuntary moan makes him stutter.

"Awful way to greet an old friend, you know. I thought you were smarter than that. Try being nicer," you slam your hips forward, making his eyes fly open with a gasp, "and you'll get what you want."

His skin prickles when you glide a warm hand up his side and come to rest it upon his shoulder, holding him down with just enough strength to make his muscles flex to fight it. Your thumb rubs little circles into the back of his neck, tracing the dips of his shoulders until you find what you're looking for. You dig into the taut muscle, making him wince.

"Stressed?" you hum, and your voice is gentle. Gentler than he deserves. "Is it money problems again?"

Something like guilt stirs in his belly, but a well-angled thrust has his thoughts unravelling. "No."

"No?"

"No," he repeats. You hum in response and don't push the matter further.

Your hand lifts from his shoulder, and already he can feel the stiffness returning. Damn those God-hands of yours. He finds himself arching back, bracing against the bed, in an effort to return your hands to their rightful place.

You hush him sweetly, pressing your chest to his back and burying your face in the crook of his neck. The angle has the shaft of your heavy cock pressed right up against his prostate and his body jolts with the fiery burn of pleasure, his knuckles turning white as he fists the sheets. "No need to chase me anymore. Not going anywhere. 'M right here, baby."

Toji manages to scoff, and his voice is steadier than he expects. "Not chasin' you, asshole."

"Yeah? Then what do you call showing up at my door as you did, unannounced?"

"Welfare check."

You roll your eyes. "I hate you."

You punctuate your sentence by yanking his hips back on your cock, the wet squelch of lube and precome making him shudder. Despite the rough treatment, a moan tumbles from his lips, and he laughs, loose and breathy.

"Fuck me like it, then," he dares, knocking his temple gently against yours.

One hand lifts to card through his hair. He groans softly as your nails scrape his scalp, but his eyes fly wide open as you grab a fistful and tug, wrenching him up to kneel. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as you wrap your hand around his leaking cock, jerking him off at the same pace as you fuck into him – he swears he sees stars as your thumb and index finger twist roughly around his swollen tip. His cock squelches in your fist, bubbles of precome sliding down his tip and smearing across your palm.

"Fucker," he snarls, ceasing his split second of flailing to grip your hip and thigh. You'd consider it painful if you hadn't also had the pleasure of being stabbed, slashed, shot, and bitten. "Nngh – so fuckin' big—"

"Going back on our word, are we, honey?" you say slyly, twisting your fist up and down his wet cock. "Tsk, tsk, Toji... so forgetful. I'd say you're getting old."

You glide a fingernail up the line of his vein, making his hips stutter and forcing another curse to slip from his lips, and you dig the tip of your finger roughly into his leaking slit. He moans and his back arches against your hold as your throbbing cock easily slides deep into him, the harsh, rapid smack of your balls against his ass almost disorienting.

He shudders. The heat of his body pulls his skin too tight, makes his tongue heavy and clumsy. Your hands are not quite soft – years of weapons training and hand-to-hand combat would do that to someone – but they're sweet on him. Loving, nearly. Your warmth softens the rub of calluses and tough scar tissue, and Toji learns them anew.

"C'mon, baby... want you to talk to me. Love your pretty little sounds." You end the sentence in a whisper, patting his stomach with the absent sort of friendliness you had as a youth. You never shied away from touching him, rewarding him with your weight draped over his shoulders or entwining your fingers when he did something that pleased you.

That familiar feeling jolts him back to reality. He glances your way – perhaps to say something, but he doesn't remember what about – and you capture his lips with yours, tilting your head and running your tongue over his lower lip.

He keeps them sealed, airtight.

You groan into the kiss and nip at him pleadingly, because you'd have to break Toji's jaw to get him to open up – and you couldn't do that to your favourite killer. Your name falling from his lips like a prayer is too sweet to pass up on.

Eventually, with enough petting and kisses, Toji relents, if only to see you perk up like a puppy tossed a bone. He groans softly as you explore his mouth, tongue curling around his and gliding over his teeth.

Your breath is hot and sweet against his, your lips shockingly gentle despite the quick and steady pace of your hips bouncing off his ass. He jolts every time your cockhead kisses his prostate, swollen and sensitive from your unrelenting pace. His dick bobs, dark red and pulsing hotly in your palm, and he groans like an injured animal. It's almost desperate.

Your shaft drags against his slick walls, which clench with a rippling squeeze as if he's trying to milk you dry. With each hungry snap of your hips, your tip punches the breath out of his lungs. His vision blots out, and he swears he can feel your cock in his damn throat.

Without warning, and without a word, he comes, his expression going lax with pleasure as he releases thick ropes onto his stomach. It's four hard spurts and two weaker pulses, the slow, measured tugs of your wrist twisting in a way that has his thick thighs trembling.

You coo softly, and Toji's face is uncharacteristically warm. Little kisses drift their way up his shoulder and neck and he sighs softly, eyes shut and head tilted back against your shoulder. You press your palm against his chest to feel the heart thudding beneath his ribs, the rise and fall with each shallow breath.

You cup his chest and squeeze.

He cracks an eye open, disapproval furrowing his brows. In response, you grin cheekily and nip at his earlobe as you smooth your fingers through his hair – a silent apology for being so rough.

To his credit, he lets it go. Doesn't even smack you for being an ass. He does, however, clamp down punishingly around your cock when he pulls off, making you hiss at the scrape. It bobs and you shiver at the cold air.

Thoughtfully, Toji glances down at it, still hard as rock and curving upwards towards your stomach. He reaches for it.

Your eyes widen when he slips a nail under the edge of the condom. "Wh-What are you doing?"

"Don't sound so scared. I know we're both safe. Said ya missed me, right?" He grins, dark and sharp, with eyes half-lidded – almost coy. "I'll let you finish inside me. For old times' sake."

"Contract-sanctioned stalking? I thought better of you, Toji." Despite your flippant words, your breath hitches, and Toji's grin widens. He tugs the slick condom off and tosses it aside – without even tying it up, the bastard – and before you can grumble about it, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him, and presses his lips to yours.

You groan softly as he parts his lips and allows you in. He shifts closer, his knee between yours, and grabs your hand. He brings it down between your bodies.

"Baby..." you whisper as he wraps your hand around your lengths, pressed together. He is hot and velvety in your palm.

"Mm." The sound is deep and content, and he blinks up at you slowly like a cat. "I know. I want it."

Then, slinging his arm loosely around your shoulders, he pulls you down with him.

You barely manage to catch yourself before crushing him, your instincts and reflexes dulled by familiarity and a dreamy languor. Not that you think he'd mind – not with that grin.

Toji spreads his knees and hooks his calves around your thighs. He guides your cock into him again, and he rumbles out a pleased moan as it buries itself hilt-deep into his slick warmth.

His head falls back against the pillows as you press your hips flush against his ass. "Ah, shit..."

"You good, baby?" you murmur, swallowing harshly as his gummy walls flutter tightly around you, as if he can lock you inside forever. Your dick twitches.

"Mmh, fuck, jus' sensitive. Move."

It's only natural that you obey.

Toji feels hotter now that you don't have the layer of plastic to contend with – hotter, wetter, hungrier. You thrust shallowly at first, but as his moans grow louder – less restrained – you allow yourself to move tip-to-base, deep and dirty the way he used to like it. Seems he still does. The rim of his puffy asshole catches on the ridge of your cockhead and his nails rake down your shoulders and back, leaving stinging raised lines in their wake.

Pride fills your chest, inflates your ego. An infamous assassin, the Sorcerer Killer, spread wide and inviting with his cheeks all flushed – he's certainly given you a thousand little deaths. You grip the meat of his ass and lift his hips off the mattress, fucking into his wet heat at a new angle that has him shouting your name.

Maybe it's because you can see his face – see all the pretty cock-drunk expressions that wash over his features – that you find yourself chasing the precipice of release embarrassingly fast. He locks his legs around your waist, thick and muscular, and you want to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Why would you ever want to leave?

"Toji," you grunt, panting softly. "'M gonna..." Your breath fans against his sweat-slick skin, making him shiver and arch into your touch. He cups the back of your neck as you nibble and suck dark bruises into his tanned skin, his lashes fluttering as you shift his thighs on your lap and leave far too many deep red hickeys printed on his skin. You even scatter a few across his collarbones and chest, and you're only pleased when he looks like he was mauled by a bear.

He pants softly, his bitten moans making your cock throb even harder. Fuck, you're so hard – the shape of your teeth printed into his skin for all to see makes you prouder than you'd ever admit. You trace the marks gently with your fingertips and Toji's chest stutters.

Gazing up at you with lidded, unfocussed eyes, he laughs, freer than he had since you met him earlier. Your heavy cock plunges into his stretched hole, again and again and again like you're trying to make him take, and your grip on one of his thighs is tight enough to leave red crescents. He grasps your face, turning it down towards him, and offers a sleazy, roguish grin, breathless. His eyes trace the cut of your cheeks, the curve of your lips.

"You look less stupid than usual. S'all you're good for, ain't it? Fucking me nice an' deep with that fat cock of yours – f-fuck. S'mine, yeah? All mine?"

You shudder and groan, bone-deep, and Toji can feel the heavy throbbing of your cock leaking inside him. The slick feeling of you against his walls builds a hot ball of arousal in his lower belly. Your chest heaves against his and your stomach tenses, familiar planes of muscle firm against his hand. Excitement roars through him like a wildfire – eager and keening.

He yanks you down for a devouring kiss as you come, catapulting off the precipice into white bliss. You gasp into it. His ass clenches around you with his own release as he moans, his soft walls stroking you and sucking you in.

He's so fucking warm, so fucking wet. His body is slick with sweat and he shoves his tongue into your mouth like a man starved. Maybe he is. You groan, low and pleased, and his thighs tighten around you like a cage, possessive in his hungry, unyielding embrace.

Spilling into him is heaven. You've died and ascended, you're certain of it. He drinks you deep, as if he was made for it, and lets his head fall back against the pillows with a less-than-steady sigh as your balls tighten and pulse hotly against his skin. Dragging it out, you grind your hips into his ass in lazy circles, huffing and puffing against his throat as if you've run a marathon. Your fingers graze his own, fluttering in a way that seems almost... uncertain.

Hah. As if you knew what that word meant. You were unshakeable, infallible. The strongest. You'd hold onto that title for as long as you could; the burden was heavy.

Rather disappointingly, you don't choose to hold his hands. They glide down his waist and hips, making him shiver, and you slowly pull out, the solid but gentle grip on his thighs never wavering. You set him down as if he was made of glass and his body twitches as thick come leaks from his stretched hole, dripping and pooling white below his ass.

He tosses a lazy arm over his eyes, bending one knee and bracing against the bed. Another hot gush of come. "Ah, f-fuck... shit. You still come like a truck..."

Your gaze, once so dark and sultry as if you were about to eat him alive, now snaps to him, wide and kind and so embarrassed that Toji can't help but crack a grin.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He rolls his eyes. "Other than the hickeys, no. Wouldn'ta minded it anyway," he adds slyly, peering out from within the shadow of his arm. "Pretty hot when you get creative."

Shuffling off of the bed with a soft chuckle, you pick up the discarded condom and toss it in the bin. You pull open the wardrobe with a flex of a wall of muscles that Toji watches keenly, spreading his knees to eye you through them. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

"Y'know, I was thinking," you begin suddenly, rifling through clothes and drawers.

"You can do that?"

"Shut up. I was thinking about you – your situation."

He closes his eyes and sinks back into your bed. "When'd you have the time? Not while you were fucking me, I hope."

"Just listen, Toji." You turn around, washcloth in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other. Dark, but loose and unremarkable – as he prefers it. You toss the clothes at the bottom of the bed and disappear into the adjoining bathroom, raising your voice as the faucet squeaks on. "I was wondering if you'd wanna... you know – catch up. Or at least let me help you."

You continue, "I could find you a place in a better school zone, get you set up legitimately. Honestly, actually, you wouldn't even need to work. You could just focus on your family and I'd take care of the rest."

Toji sits up, ignoring the pinch of pain and the mess between his legs. It'll ache later, so he'll deal with it later. "What?"

"I said—"

"Yeah, yeah, heard you the first time. But why?" He lowers his voice as you return to him and begin to clean him up. He meets your eyes and his mouth takes on the beginning slant of a smirk. "My ass that good, huh? You want me to be your sugar baby?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "You're not that hot, Toji. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Wasn't talking about my face. Still – it's not like you to beg me to go on the straight and narrow. What's with that?"

"At the risk of sounding humiliatingly sappy after sex," you sigh, sitting back and dropping the cloth aside, "I still care about you. A whole fucking lot. I only want good things for you, Toji, and I have all this excess wealth that I can't donate fast enough, so if I can change just two more lives – I'd beg for the chance."

The desire to change lives without ending others'. He can understand the sentiment.

"What would you want from me?"

For a moment, you're taken aback by the tiredness in his voice. You blink. "Nothing? Like I said, the money would just vanish into a charity otherwise. Well – maybe I'd like to be invited over on the weekends, and maybe drop off-slash-pick up itty-bitty Megumi every so often. He's that age, right? Oh – and you gotta let me into the kitchen. I make a mean lasagne. Wonder if the boy would like it..."

He snorts. "That's a lot of conditions."

"Well, I am offering to let you live like a plump and happy housewife, so..."

He's quiet for a while, his hair falling over his eyes in a way that blocks your view of his face. You toss a rolled-up towel at his head, and he catches it without looking.

He lowers the towel. "You... don't seem to care that I left you."

"No, I didn't at all care that my friend dropped off the face of the earth without warning." You cross your arms and scoff, the smile slipping from your face. "I only heard about what happened months after you vanished, and by that time, there was nothing I could do to search for you. I had too many people looking at me to dig up old underground contacts and not enough time to comb through the country myself. You could have talked to me, you know," you say, your voice softening. "I would never turn you away."

He shrugs, noncommittal. "It's like you said – too many people looking at you. Would be alarming if I came strolling up to your door, wouldn't it?"

"You did today," you point out.

"Yeah, when there's a bounty on your head. I could be killing you right now."

You scoff, though the hint of a smile flickers across your lips. "You're impossible. But fair point. Just... think it over, okay? Come find me after all this bounty business is over and done with. You know where I live."

Toji chuckles softly, and he accepts your offered hand. You lead him to the large bathroom and he threads his towel over the rod next to what must be yours. He stares longer than he should, but the sight of the two towels beside each other – his green, yours blue – forms a lump in his throat that's hard to swallow around. His heartbeat quickens.

The sound of water hitting the tiles fills the bathroom. He raises his voice over it. "Hey."

Glancing over, your arm shimmering with water droplets from where it rests against the faucet handle, you tilt your head wordlessly.

"I should be picking up the kid in a couple of hours," he explains, "at six. As far as he and the childcare know, I work a normal nine-to-five like the rest of 'em. You could go."

Your eyes widen, and you let out an endeared laugh. "Toji, Megumi doesn't know who I am. The last time we met, he was a newborn. I'm not about to give everyone a heart attack by showing up on your behalf."

"It wouldn't be on my behalf, dumbass." His tone borders between disparaging and fond. "I'd go with you."

"Wh—?" Your throat bobs harshly. The shower seems forgotten, and Toji pushes you backwards into it with a palm on your chest because he's not about to waste the water. It pours onto your head, your hair beginning to stick to your face, and it still doesn't seem to register. A smile pulls at his lips as he reaches for your body wash, scanning the label while your brain putters out and short-circuits.

You didn't expect an answer that soon.

"You heard me," he says coolly, as if this is a normal Tuesday for him. He squirts a dab of body wash onto his palm. "Isn't this what you asked for? In my opinion, it's not that fun. I get a lot of women chattin' me up while we wait. Awkward as hell since I can't be rude or they might tell their kids, and then their kids won't like Megumi... ah, it's a big deal. You being there will help. You love to talk, so you can do it for me. Good game plan, right?"

"Toji, I..."

"The fact that I'm talking more than you worries me."

"You said pick-up's at six, right?" you say suddenly, the glint in your eyes intensifying.

He arches a brow, glancing up at you. "Yeah."

"That means we have an hour." You lean in, trapping him against the glass of the shower. There's a hint of mania in your gaze, starved with a vehement zeal. "I'm gonna fuck you, now."

His eyes widen. A feral grin spreads across his face. He laughs against your throat and moans when you press your thumb roughly into one of the many hickeys littering his neck and chest. "You're crazy. Fuckin' crazy – oi."

It's disturbingly easy for you to lift him by his thighs and press him against the cool glass. His skin prickles as he grips your shoulders and mutters, his breath mingling with yours: "If you drop me, I'll kill you."

"Promise?" you ask with a breathless grin.

He crushes his lips to yours. No one else gets the privilege of taking your little deaths.

[imnotshua]

show me how - kmg

٠࣪⭑ pairing: kim mingyu x fem reader ٠࣪⭑ summary: you meet mingyu in a bar and then you fuck. that's it, that's the tweet. ٠࣪⭑ genre: generic au, strangers 2 lovers, smut ٠࣪⭑ rating: explicit. minors do not interact with me, i'll block you. ٠࣪⭑ warnings: swearing, drinking, one night stand. ٠࣪⭑ smut contents: gendered terms, mingyu has an enormous cock (canon), kisses, v fingering, oral (f receiving), v sex, mingyu 🔛🔝, wet patches <3. teasing but it's good natured. if you think i've forgotten anything please let me know so i can fix my post! ٠࣪⭑ wc: 2k - complete ٠࣪⭑ a/n: i needed a break from angsty wonwoo and this just sort of happened, my bad, lads and ladettes. please note this is unbeta'd and unedited because it's 1am and i'm tired now thank u vm, any mistakes are my own but do lmk if u see any so i can fix ٠࣪⭑ thank you all for visiting my little corner of the internet. i hope u like this one<3

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Jeonghan always does this. He insists it’s his job as department lead to take the new recruits out for drinks, as a sort of ice breaker. Terrible idea, you always say, to feed newbies (far too much) alcohol on their first Friday, and expect them to feel totally comfortable in his presence come Monday. That’s why you’re always there too, because you can rein Jeonghan in (sometimes) and it’s not your department to actually worry about. 

Tonight is like any other. Jeonghan is playing matchmaker for some unsuspecting interns and Seungcheol is trying not to make moon eyes at him. Ridiculous, if anyone asks you, which no one does. You’re perfectly content sitting at the bar nursing your drink and texting Seungcheol to let him know what a down bad loser he is, until someone too enormous to ignore takes the seat next to you. And you’re annoyed, even though it is the only spare seat in this place, because his giant arm knocks yours as he calls down a bartender, sending your drink splashing over the counter. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he says, grabbing for tissues and mopping up the mess. “Let me get you another.”

“Oh. No, I’m good actually.”

“That was a full glass of wine.” Here we go.

“Yes it was.” 

Seungcheol is texting you already. 

Cheolie: who is THAT guy Cheolie: you should fuck him immediately oh my god Cheolie: he’d swing you round like a bat

Why on earth would I want to be swung around like a bat?

“C’mon, let me make it up to you,” says Tall Stranger. Even sitting down he’s a head above you. He’s probably terrible for your mental health. ”I’d feel guilty all night if I can’t replace it.” 

“I don’t take drinks from random men.”

Cheolie: idk dude but he could do it Cheolie: he’s your type!!!!!!!! Cheolie: when did you last get laid even “Technically you’d be taking it from the staff. I’d just pay for it.”

He’s not even hot. He’s just tall

Cheolie: bitch i can see his cheekbones from here Cheolie: 11/10 easy

Finally turning looking at him properly, you have to give Seungcheol credit where credit is due. All smooth skin, big eyes, and perfectly full lips. You could cut your finger on that cupid's bow. 

“I guess you’ve got me there,” you say.

“I’m Mingyu.” He smiles wide. Oh nooo, he’s hot. 

I’m not fucking a stranger from a bar! Go tell Jeonghan you wanna suck his dick and leave me alone

Cheolie: :))))))))))))

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“My apartment was definitely closer,” Mingyu says between wet kisses pressed to your jaw. 

You push him off to pull your shirt over your head and he gapes at your chest. Pervert. “Well, we’re here in case you turn out to be a killer,” you say. Mingyu crowds your space again so fast, slipping impatient hands down your body, warming your skin with them. Snaking one between your legs and finding the material of your underwear a little damp. “At least then my roommates could find my body.” 

“Not a killer–” he says against your neck. “But I am about to murder this pu–”

“Oh my God, never say that again.” 

“Noted.”

The best thing about one night stands with guys might actually be that you can say and do pretty much anything, and there’s little to no embarrassment. You can tell Mingyu here that it’s his job to make you come before he does, and all he does is nod, dumb and horny, and a lot into it. 

He moves back on your bed, pillows shoved out of the way and spine pressed against the headboard, and looks at you with something like trepidation. If trepidation could be sexy or whatever. You climb into his lap and take your time unbuttoning his shirt. Mingyu watches your hands as you brush against his skin and asks if he can kiss you.

“Since you asked so nicely,” you say, offering up your neck. 

Unfortunately, he’s ever so good. Just smiles sheepishly (very hot) and tugs your chin down to catch your bottom lip between his. It’s better than you expect. Attractive men don’t kiss this well, usually, because they never had to work for it. Unfair, really. “Let me make you feel good,” he whispers against your lips, deft fingers tugging your underwear to the side.

Everywhere goes tight as he rubs circles over your clit. Mingyu holds up your skirt with his other hand, leans back to watch, and the heat creeps over your neck. What was that you were thinking about little to no embarrassment? Disappears the moment you see his jaw slacken, cheeks flushing with want, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You feel so soft,” he says. “So fucking wet.” God, who made him? You drag an unsteady breath as a finger slips inside, curls it just enough to make you whimper. He strokes you gently, working you open, slipping another finger in just as soon as he thinks you can take it. You can’t. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. He leans in to drag his teeth across your shoulder.  “You just got so tight. Wanna feel that on my cock.”

“Do you always narrate?” Your words come thready. Embarrassing times ten. 

“Uh– yeah,” he laughs. “Should I stop?”

“No, no. It’s okay.” 

“Gonna make you come now, baby,” he says. “It’s gonna be fast, okay? Need to fuck you.”

“Cocky–” you start, but he’s laving a flat tongue over the lace of your bra, making your nipple pebble through the thin material. His fingers slide deeper, his wrist coated in you, and the way he uses the heel of his palm against your clit is leaving you breathless. He smiles with pleasure as your moan catches in your throat. Applies the pressure, just the right amount, to have you bucking against his hand. “Needy.” He says it like it’s praise.

“I’ll snap your fingers off inside me, Mingyu.”

“Do you always threaten people?” He teases your clit again and it’s blinding. He moans as you clench impossibly tight. 

“Yea– fuck. Shit. Gonna come.”

Mingyu's lips find yours in a second. Licks into your mouth, kisses you through it. Hums happily, so annoyingly pleased with himself, as you shudder your way through your orgasm, a wet patch forming on his jeans. 

The rest of your clothes come away just as quick, and Mingyu groans like a fucking loser. It’s both gross and horribly attractive. Doesn’t move his hands from your body as you make fast work of his belt, lifts his hips to help you pull his jeans down and free his hard length. 

“What the fuck is that?” 

Mingyu blinks. “What is what?”

“That can of fucking Pringles you’ve got between your legs?” 

“It’s not that big.”

You can’t quite believe it. “Oh my God, you are going to murder my pussy,” you cry. “This is cruel and unfair. They’re gonna put ‘Death by Monster Cock’ on my headstone.”

“This is unbecoming.”

“Your dick is unbecoming.”

Mingyu looks ready to cry. “Are you going to touch me yet? I think I’m going to explode.”

“Yes, yes, fine. But this had better be as hard as you get.”

Unfortunately when you take him in your hands, Mingyu does actually get harder (hahaha you’re going to die) and you try to decide how you’re actually going to take this. 

“God– fuck,” Mingyu murmurs as you work your hands over him. He all but melts against your headboard, and you wonder just how many people have survived him. Not like– the size of him (well, that too) but the way he looks right now, sweat beading on his forehead, the way his pretty pink lips fall apart, like sins are spilling out of them. You roll your fist over the head and he keens. Mingyu sounds so good, you could get used to this. He groans, loud, pushing into your circled fingers like he’s desperate. You like how his chest heaves, all tight breaths and strangled half-formed noises. 

“I need– need–” 

“What do you need, baby?”

“Wanna be inside you,” he breathes. Pulls you down onto the bed, rolls on top to press a kiss to your sternum, and nudges your legs apart to slot between them. His cock slips against your cunt, still wet from his fingers. Reaches over to fish a condom from the pocket of his jeans (how presumptuous!) and tears the packet with his teeth (hot). “This okay?” he says, as he rolls it on. 

“Yes. Yeah. Be gentle, okay?” Embarrassing times a million.

Mingyu’s eyes go soft. Ew. 

“I’m always gentle.”

He is. The stretch hurts but he’s slow with it. Gives you a second to adjust, to angle your hips just right, before he moans, tells you you’re beautiful, that you feel so fucking good around him. He braces himself above you, slides into you so agonisingly beautifully deep you think you can feel him in your stomach. A moan escapes you, “Feels good, Gyu,” you whisper, and Mingyu swears. 

“You’re so tight,” he gasps.

“Pretty sure a cave would feel tight for you,” you laugh. Mingyu’s cock jolts inside you. “You’ve got the Hubble Telescope for a dick.”

“Please stop saying weird things,” he begs, and slips out just to slide back in. Pushes the air right out of your lungs. You forget to blink. Mingyu takes your broken cry and your nails digging crescent moons into his arms for the praise it is, and fucks you like you need him. His hands hold your thighs, rubbing slow circles into the skin with his thumbs, pulling them up around him to give him better access to your centre. Lets you hold on to him just to anchor yourself, almost lost to the pressure of your building release. 

Mingyu is so good at kissing. He nudges your cheek with his nose, bites open mouthed and wet at your jaw, presses one–two kitten kisses at the seam of your lips before he’s licking into your mouth, all soft lips and sensuality and tongue. He whines into your mouth as he fucks you, gasps desperately when you clench. His fingers are splayed across your body, touching everywhere he can reach with his huge hands, cups your breasts and moves to pull a nipple between teeth and grins lazy when you whimper, when you arch into it. 

He’s starting to fall apart now. Stuttered breaths and hasty thrusts, chasing your heat and his own release. God you wished he’d come inside you. He looks so pretty when he’s desperate. Eyebrows raised and eyes wide and mouth open. “Gonna come?” you ask. He nods with fervour. “Make me come again first.”

Mingyu doesn’t waste time. Loves a challenge, it seems. He pulls out without warning, leaving you empty and pulsing around nothing, fists his hand around his cock and thumbs off the condom as he dives between your legs to eat you out like a man starved. It’s embarrassing how wet you are. How he has you coming apart faster than you expect, how the way he sucks on your clit has you seeing stars. “C’mon, baby, show me how you come,” he groans between licks. “M’not gonna last.” 

His free hand teases at your clit, slips further to gather up the wetness on his fingers just to take it and run it over his cock. Fuck that’s so hot. He watches your mouth fall open, he’s all doe-eyed and too sweet for the moment, and you think he really must kill people, but by accident probably. He hums as he licks into you again, your fingers find purchase in his hair, pulling him against you tight and desperate and needy, and then his tongue flicks over your clit fast fast fast and you’re gone. Coming fast and hard, and he’s moaning at the taste of you, at the wetness pooling between your legs and soaking through the mattress. Mingyu’s done for too, “baby, you look so good,” he’s cooing, sitting up on his calves and bucking into his own hand and spilling his cum over your body. Spreads the mess over the soft skin of your stomach and tells you you look so pretty. 

God. You’re ruined. Upon your headstone will read death by softboy (with monster cock.)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so my fic can get seen outside my own little space <3 i love seeing your feedback. if you'd prefer to scream at me directly, feel free to send me a message <3

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I’m working on an original character project that I want to include a lot of casual representation in (“casual” meaning that the characters don’t need a justification for being disabled/fat/POC/etc, they just are because people can and do exist that way in reality!)

I was wondering if you had any suggestions for finding resources for drawing facial differences(and maybe other visible disabilities), especially in a cartoony style. I’ve looked through the Facial Equality Week tag but would like to see more examples, and since my art is so… goofy, for lack of a better word, I would love any help I can get in integrating differences without being offensive or upsetting.

Sorry if this is a bother, and thank you for all that you do!

Hey!

I'm not aware of any guides for drawing facial differences specifically (or at least, good ones. There's 1 billion tutorials telling you that scars are just a Singular Line, always, but that's not... correct), but perhaps someone in the notes could help out?

For my own advice, you could check out this old post I made. Because you mentioned your art being cartoony, I would specifically urge you to not overexaggerate facial differences the way they often are. A prime example would be how a lot of cartoons portray strabismus;

It's just a funny gag to them rather than, IDK, how some of us look like. Not to mention that one of these is also a mockery of intellectually/developmentally disabled people with "Derp" in the name, but that's beside the point here.

It's the whole "the character is crazy/stupid/wild/whatever and that's why they have it" that's the problem with how it's often shown. You can also see it in how characters who don't even normally have it will be shown with it for a scene where they're saying something nonsensical, etc.

Another example that's nowhere near as rampant is the split-face thing with various facial differences being used. Mostly vitiligo but sometimes also facial palsy. I'm talking about this weirdly perfectly halved face that looks extremely different on each side, often used to imply that a character is two-faced but mostly just signals that the author doesn't know how vitiligo looks like.

[note: vitiligo also shows up on lighter skin. I wanted to make sure it's visible here for tutorial clarity purposes.]

This one is just weird because it straight up doesn't look like that. I have no idea where it came from, but it should go back there. Facial palsy doesn't make someone look like the antique comedy/tragedy theater mask.

Unless I'm forgetting some other annoying cartoon trope, these would be the big ones that you should stay away from.

Outside of that, it's really on a case by case basis on how a specific FD should be drawn because they're so different. A birthmark can just be a differently colored patch of skin, but a craniofacial difference would require some more changes to be included. Alopecia is well, lack of hair, and can be done very easily but ectrodactyly can be more complicated to show properly because of the limitations of a cartoony artstyle when it comes to hands. And while I do think it would be great to see more of those facial differences that tend to not be included in art at all, there's nothing wrong with deciding to go for the things you can represent more faithfully, especially if you're just starting.

I will say that if you're making an honest attempt at being respectful and trying to get it right, most of us will still be excited to see your work. Even if it's not perfect or has some inaccuracies. I will take a "'yeah more or less' correct with a happy, human character" over a "Very Technically correct but tagged as #tw burns and with blood splattered on them" any day.

Lastly, I wanted to share some art featuring characters with facial differences (and other visible disabilities) that are done in a cartoony, or at least somewhat simplistic artstyles (I'm using both terms very widely here) - maybe it will give you some ideas.

Man with Treacher Collins syndrome (also one of the first pieces online where I saw a character with an FD portrayed in such a lovely way. A fav of mine.) Girl with Pfeiffer syndrome Too many characters to count Woman with burns Woman with a limb difference Multiple characters again Animation featuring people with Down syndrome [youtube] Multiple characters, including a girl with neurofibromatosis, a burn survivor, a girl with a cleft lip and another with TCS [twitter]

If you have a more specific art question ("how do I draw a person with XYZ facial difference?") you can send me an ask on @saszor. I prefer to stick to the writing theme on this blog but would still like to help if you need it.

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

Edit: apologies for the lack of alt text on one of the images, it has been fixed.

[remxedmoon]

“the eternal wanderer. even death cannot release it from its plight.”

tribeless

1 power - 1 health - 7 bones

unkillable - when a card bearing this sigil perishes, a copy of it is created in your hand.

corpse eater - if a creature that you own perishes by combat, a card bearing this sigil in your hand is automatically played in its place.

brittle - after attacking, a card bearing this sigil perishes.

hidden trait - cursebearer

this card cannot be sacrificed at the sigil stones event.

finally posting my isatscryption stuff here!!! yipee!!! here’s a writeup about the card design because frankly i put wayy too much thought into all of these cards. sorry if these are a bit hard to parse!

unkillable and corpse eater effectively make sif immortal, since every time he dies, he’ll be placed back on the board! and i thought that was fitting for. y’know. timeloop reasons. brittle is only there to emphasize the whole constantly dying thing. because is it really isat without siffrin torment

also didn’t notice this until after i designed this card, but the brittle sigil art has a star on it??? not intentional in the slightest but it is Fitting

sif is a fox here! i know that that would technically put them in the canine tribe, but i felt it’d be more fitting for them to be tribeless? and base game inscryption already kinda bends the rules when it comes to tribes (such as the bullfrog being a reptile and the rabbit being treated internally as a rodent) so i think it still works

i’m well aware that card traits don’t actually have cool names or anything but i still want to give them cool names because it’s fun. anyways! cursebearer! i gave them this trait both because these sigils are extremely overpowered, and for lore reasons. sif sees their sigils as a curse! they don’t want to force them on anyone else!! it’s their burden to bear!!!

tangentially related to that last point, but sif is a talking card in this au! because it’s fun :3. and because i think it’d be really interesting to see how he’d react to the cabin

sif’s scar is covered by the hat a bit but it’s Star Shaped. and so is the eye shine teehee

this was the first card i made and Boy Does It Show. i had the WORST time trying to get the card generators to work for this because oops! both of the card generators are inaccurate in different ways! plus theres a few mistakes in the card art that i didn’t notice until after i finished most of the others... i promise the others are a little more polished

also, since i didn’t mention it above the cut, the sigil patch is for the bone king sigil! which makes the card award 4 bones instead of 1 upon death. this is less for lore reasons and more for the synergy with his sigils. since he’s constantly dying and coming back, he can basically give you infinite bones for Zero Cost. fun!

aaand i think that’s all the notes for this card! thanks for reading this absurdly long post. here’s his alt card art without the patch for your troubles 🫡

[these-posts-arent-real]

Oh StarClan... your dash has turned into warrior cats again.

#sorry <3 #this one has parts that are based off of that #one post rhats like "if there were cat-people #do you think calico tboys would try to dye over their patches"

2 notes

🔁 🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow reblogged

🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow

Me & Night (my mate)!!!

🏞 trouttail-prefers-bass Follow

:O Kip's mate has finally been revealed!!! And his name is Night? Cooool.

🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow

Yeah haha. Technically his full name is Night Hunter, Bringer of Darkness, but it feels so weirdly formal calling him that, so I usually stick to just Night.

#life #kittypet #collar tw #cw collars #id in alt text

8,504 notes

🛤 carnation-stem-02 Follow

I find it really funny when I see cats on here vaguepost about big blogs. Like cmon mouse-brain everyone here knows who you're talking about. Just say their name.

#this is about that one mommy blogger shitting on kipper the kittypet #btw #in case some of you couldnt tell #would be funny if it wasnt so stupid

12 notes

🔁 🐍xviper-the-fagx reblogged

🥬 rxttencatmint Follow

Hahaaaaa.... my mother found out ive been slowly dyeing my ginger patches black...

🪺 robbbinpaw Follow

Why would you do that??? Being a tortie is so cool, I wish I had ginger patches! They're so pretty, why do you want to get rid of them???

🥬 rxttencatmint Follow

Uhm. Gender dysphoria??

Like. I know cis male tortoiseshells exist but they're so rare that most cats take one look at me and go "oh, tortie, must be a girl" and that hurts.

🪺 robbbinpaw Follow

OH STARCLAN im so sorry Rot i wasnt even thinking about you being trans, I probably sounded really insensitive... I do understand what you're saying now.

Didn't even ask, how did your mom take it? Does she know why?

🥬 rxttencatmint Follow

You're fine <3 I get it. And no, she uh.. has no clue why I did it, she thinks I'm in my "emo phase" or something.

🐍 xviper-the-fagx

Uhh unrelated but what do you use to dye your fur?? Asking for... science...

#"science" meaning i am also a tortie tboy #well technically i'm calico but ykwim

46 notes

🔁 🦋 lalala-bluegaze Follow reblogged

🦢 gentlesong-momof17 Follow

I can't be the only one here who thinks it's unfair to allow kittypets on this site. Posting pictures of themselves and their mates inside of the twolegplace, influencing the young kits on this site to abandon their Clans... surely everyone else sees the problem with this as well.

This is Clanblr, not "Kittypetblr". This was specifically made as a space for Clan cats to connect, not for kittypets to push their lifestyle on us.

They're going to convince our kits to abandon their home and their belief in StarClan just for a more secure life.

#EXACTLY #I only recently found out ex-tc Kipper was a kittypet #it was so upsetting to me because i've always loved his wood-scratch art #to find out he's a clan-abandoner was so saddening

2,447 notes

🔁 🐍xviper-the-fagx reblogged

🌻 l1llyst3m Follow

The recent drama surrounding Kipper the Kittypet is sad and I hate that he's being bashed just for existing, but it's also incredibly stupid. I believe the cat who wrote the original post said something like, "it's CLANblr, not KITTYPETblr," and then something about belief in StarClan and I just... do you even realize how many Clanblr mods are non-Clan and/or don't believe in StarClan?

To name a few, @s-t-a-r-burning is former WindClan now rogue & openly an atheist, @theshadowhaseyes has been a kittypet his whole life, and @ssuunnrraayy-p has made zir entire blog about how ze travels from one Clan to another & doesnt consider zimself a Clan cat. Those are all mods. "It's clanblr no-" shut up. Just shut up.

245 notes

🧷 name-lists-by-theme

Theme: Water

as always, these work as either part of your name, but they are intended as the first part!

-Abyss

-Bay

-Bog

-Cove

-Creek

-Current

-Dew

-Fog

-Lagoon

-Lake

-Marsh

-Mist

-Pond

-Pool

-Puddle

-Rain

-Shallow

-Sleet

-Spray

-Splash

-Storm

-Stream

-Torrent

Keep reading

383 notes

🐱 berrrrry-o Follow

I think a lot of cats put way too much emphasis on the parts of the warrior code that dont matter, and forget the parts that do, like "feed elders and kits first" and "never neglect a kit in pain or danger"... I feel like those are significantly more important than "a warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet," but maybe that's just me.

#berry yaps #I'm irritated by the kittypet drama going on on this site

16 notes

🔁 🛤 carnation-stem-02 Follow reblogged

🔲 sag3-chas3s-squirr3ls-deactivated

I feel like we don't talk enough about how SkyClan got chased out of their own territory during a time of crisis rather than all of the Clans trying to make room for everyone...

I mean, seriously. I know it's taught to all SkyClan apprentices, but I've talked to some of my friends from other Clans and they just. Didn't know that. They were never taught that the other Clans allowed SkyClan to be chased out due to territory loss.

🔲 sstep-xoxo-deactivated

:/ im pretty sure the whole thing about skclan being kicked out of their territory is just a conspiracy theory

🔲 sag3-chas3s-squirr3ls-deactivated

Imagine trying to tell a cat that they don't know their own Clan's history 💀

#ohh i finally found it again #that 1 fucker trying to say that skyclan's history is a "conspiracy theory"

20,056 notes

🌱 dirtdigger-23 Follow

:/ I do not like being stuck on the wrong site.

[welostheplot]

── 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 ᨒ↟☾.࿔*:･ 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: vampire!ellie williams / werewolf!abby anderson / reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after a near-death experience in your school's parking lot, you're left questioning what ellie might really be capable of. ancient secrets begin to surface and you start to wonder if there’s more to jackson—and to abby—than anyone’s letting on.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: the briefest mention of incest (but it's not in the way you might be thinking, i swear!), technically underage drinking but it's not explicitly described.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.4k

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: abby's back THANK GOODNESS!! one chapter without her was way too long... also! i've gotten a couple people asking to be tagged when new chapters are posted... guys i made my first tumblr post like a week ago i never thought people would be interested in my work enough that i'd need a tag list (ᵕ—ᴗ—) should i start using one?! and thank you so much for all the support!!!!

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎: "friendly enough"

IT HAD SNOWED AGAIN LAST NIGHT.

and it hadn't been the soft, storybook kind that you see in christmas movies either. it was a wet, icy sleet storm that had turned the sidewalks into skating rinks and lasted well into the next day.

you’d slipped on some black ice on your porch steps that morning while leaving for school and earned a large wet patch on the ass of your skinny jeans. it almost made you walk right back inside and skip the whole day.

you were glad you didn’t.

the abysmal weather, for some reason, was perfect for the millers. they chose that day to make their grand return to school. and grand return wasn’t even an exaggeration. at lunch, they didn’t enter the cafeteria so much as descend into it, moving like a silent, coordinated unit.

ellie was the last to come through the double doors. she scanned the room and then her eyes landed on you.

your breath caught before you could stop it.

“dude, you have got to stop doing that,” said cassie, nudging your shoulder and breaking the moment. “she’s gonna think you’re, like, obsessed with her or something.”

you huffed out an awkward chuckle, tugging at the sleeves of your sweater and turning your attention back to your own table. devin and marcus were arm wrestling, nat cheering them on while leah filmed it on her camera.

“i’m not obsessed,” you mumbled.

“really? could’ve fooled me.” cassie pointed a ranch-dipped baby carrot at you accusatorily. “besides, i already told you it’s not worth it. i mean, yeah, they’re super hot. but also weird as fuck.”

“and borderline incestuous,” leah added, having given up on filming now that devin and marcus were fully wrestling on the cafeteria floor. "i'm pretty sure dina and jesse are, like, a thing. they're not actually related. but they live together! it's weird."

“literally,” cassie agreed. “total turn-off. unless you’re into that kinda stuff.” she gasped, dropping her voice. “you’re… not into that kinda stuff. right?”

you rolled your eyes, half laughing. “don’t be weird.”

“oh, so now i’m the weird one?!”

THE MILLERS BEING BACK MEANT YOU HAD A LAB PARTNER AGAIN.

ellie never really said hi. or looked thrilled to see you. but you weren’t doing two-person assignments solo anymore, so you chalked it up as a win.

"you missed our first quiz on friday," you said one day, halfway through class. your teacher was droning on about something to do with ribosomes.

ellie didn't look up from her notes. “wasn’t feeling well.”

you blinked. a response. actual words. “you feeling better now?”

she glanced at you then. brief. unreadable. “depends.”

“on?”

“whether or not you’re gonna keep asking questions.”

you raised a brow. “so that’s a no, then.”

ellie’s lips twitched. almost a smile.

“noted,” you said, turning back to your own notebook and pretending like your heart wasn’t thudding obnoxiously loud in your ears.

a couple days later, you passed her in the hall between third and fourth period. “hey,” you said before you could stop yourself.

ellie gave you a once-over. “you always say hi to people who are clearly ignoring you?”

you bit your lip, then decided to take a chance: “only the attractive ones.”

you saw the way she paused, her jaw flexed, like she was fighting off a smirk.

“dangerous habit,” she said, voice low and teasing. "yeah, well," you replied, backing up a step, "i’m a reeeeal rebel.”

ellie kept walking. didn’t look back. but you could’ve sworn you saw her shoulders shake—just once—as if she was laughing.

BY THURSDAY, YOU HAD BOTH FALLEN INTO A SORT-OF ROUTINE.

you’d show up to bio, ellie already in her seat—slouched and staring at the door like she had been waiting for your arrival. you did your lab work together, not much talking beyond what was necessary: “i think your answer for question three is wrong.” “i’m never wrong.”

she hadn’t ignored you once all week!

progress, you told yourself.

today, she had actually been what you’d describe as almost friendly. you were both hovering near the lockers, her shoulder brushing yours every so often as you flipped through the study guide you’d made for the bio quiz next period.

“hey,” a voice cut in, sudden and close enough to make you flinch.

a girl stepped up beside ellie. short, confident. dark curls framing sharp cheekbones.

“you must be the one ellie won’t shut up about.”

ellie glared at her. “dina.”

the girl just grinned. “what? i’m being friendly.”

she turned to you. “i’m dina. one of ellie’s very…. few friends.”

“uh, nice to meet you,” you said, thrown.

“you too,” dina replied, eyeing you with casual curiosity. “i’ve seen your car in the lot. that old red truck?”

you nodded. “hard to miss, huh?”

“it definitely has character,” she said, not unkindly. “but it could probably use some chains on the wheels.”

“funny, my dad said the same thing this morning. he wants to put some on this weekend.”

dina nodded, like that confirmed something. “makes sense. roads’ll get pretty icy the next couple days. worse than usual. you should be careful.”

something about the way she said it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. it was like she knew something you didn’t.

ellie crossed her arms, visibly annoyed. “okay, are you done?”

“don’t be rude,” dina said. “i like her.”

your stomach flipped.

“anyway,” dina added, already turning to walk away, “don’t let me interrupt. good luck with the quiz!” she patted ellie’s shoulder, smiling knowingly. “i already know you’re gonna get a one hundred on it.”

then, she vanished down the hall, leaving behind a trail of confusion and spicy cinnamon perfume.

you turned back to ellie, still processing. “...she’s nice.”

ellie sighed. “we should get to class.”

the next day, you were twirling your pencil, waiting for your teacher to hand back the graded quizzes. when ellie got hers, there it was—bright red ink scrawled at the top of the page:

100%

she bit back a smile. nodded to herself.

then quietly slid the paper into her folder and tucked it away.

YOU ATE SHIT ON THE PORCH STEPS AGAIN THAT MORNING.

same patch of black ice. same bruised ego. and this time, you landed so hard you actually sat on the curb for a second just to wallow in the shame. when you finally limped back inside to change your jeans, your dad barely looked up from his coffee.

“thought i told you to salt those steps,” he said.

“you did, and i did,” you muttered, rubbing your ass. “it rained. and then sleeted. and then froze again.”

he sighed, pushing his mug away. “we’ll get those chains on your tires this weekend.”

“you can’t do it any earlier?”

“well,” he sniffed, flipping to the next page of the newspaper. “abby’s doing it. and that’s when she’s free.”

“so what am i supposed to do till then? crawl to school?”

“ride with a friend.”

and so you did.

nat picked you up fifteen minutes later, blasting the heater and looking way too chipper for how early it was.

“i like your sweater,” she said as you slid into the passenger seat. “it brings out your soulful eyes.”

you blinked. “okay, what?”

she stuttered, cheeks going bright red as she moved to click on the radio. “just— never mind. pretend i didn’t say that.”

you opened your mouth to respond, then closed it again, opting to lean your forehead against the fogged-up window in silence.

nat drove like a maniac, skidding around corners while singing along to the static-warped radio. “why are you in such a good mood?” you asked as she rolled into the school parking lot.

“because,” she said, “today’s the welcome back assembly. which means no third period. which means we’re basically doing nothing until lunch. and if there’s anything i love more than joel miller preaching to us about the city’s improvements while all the female teachers try not to cream their pants at the sight of him, it’s skipping math to sit in a freezing gym while it's happening.”

“you are deranged.”

“i am festive,” she corrected, winking as she pulled into a spot near the front.

you both climbed out of the car into the freezing morning. the ice crunched under your boots. you were in the middle of adjusting your backpack strap on your shoulder when it happened.

a sharp screech.

you turned.

marcus’s car was skidding out of control across the ice-coated parking lot, tires spinning uselessly, the vehicle veering sideways—straight toward you.

you barely registered nat yelling your name. didn’t even have time to move.

but someone else did.

arms—cold and fast and impossibly strong—wrapped around your waist and yanked you back just as the car crashed, full force, into the light post behind you.

the impact echoed like a gunshot. glass shattered. people screamed.

you were on the ground, heart racing, mind struggling to catch up with your body.

ellie.

ellie miller was kneeling over you.

you blinked up at her, dazed. her face was inches from yours. wild green eyes, lips pressed into a tight line.

she let go like you'd burned her.

“are you okay?” she asked, voice strained.

“you—” you sat up, breath hitching. “how did you get here so fast? you were, like—across the lot—i saw you—”

ellie stood up abruptly. “you’re not hurt?”

“no, but—ellie, what the hell just happened?”

nat appeared a second later, breathless. “oh my god, are you—what the fuck just happened? that was, like—holy shit—marcus almost killed you.”

you barely heard her. you were still staring at ellie, who was backing away, eyes on the pavement. marcus stumbled out of his car, shaken up but uninjured. a crowd had started forming. teachers were arriving. someone had called the nurse.

cassie ran up and crouched next to you, pulling an errant shard of glass from your hair. “and i thought the assembly was gonna be the most interesting part of the day.”

you got to your feet, unsteady. ellie was already stepping away, disappearing into the crowd before you could say another word.

and as your friends guided you toward the nurse, you had one overwhelming thought:

that hadn’t been normal.

and ellie knew it too.

THEY MADE YOU GO TO THE HOSPITAL.

even though you insisted you were fine—you had some mild bruising at most—your dad was already on his way before you could talk anyone down.

“they said you were almost hit by a car,” he said, practically throwing himself into the room once the nurse left. “why the hell am i hearing about this from a school receptionist?”

“because i didn’t actually get hit,” you mumbled. “i mean. not technically.”

“you’re lucky your ribs aren't broken,” he said, jaw clenched, eyes flicking back and forth between your IV line and the monitor tracking your heartbeat. “jesus, i can’t believe that kid almost took your life.”

“it wasn’t his fault.”

“he ran you over.”

“almost,” you corrected.

“i swear to god, i’m gonna kill him.”

from the other side of the curtain hung in the middle of the room, you heard a frightened whimper.

you and your dad both turned. the curtain rustled aside just enough to reveal marcus, laid up in the next hospital bed, a bandage on his forehead and an apologetic look on his face.

“i’m really really sorry, sir,” he said. “the road was—i couldn’t stop. it just happened so fast.”

“you shouldn’t even have a license,” your dad snapped. “you’ve got rust holding that car together. you shouldn’t be driving that piece of junk anywhere near a school.”

you scoffed under your breath. “ironic.”

your dad turned slowly. “what was that?”

“nothing.” you sank back against the pillow.

he opened his mouth to say something else, but the door creaked open.

joel miller stepped in, dressed down in a flannel and jeans. he greeted your dad with a firm handshake and a “sorry to hear about the accident,” before turning to you.

“you feelin’ alright?” he asked.

“uh. yeah.” you gave him a half-smile. “i’ve had worse. honestly, probably got bruised more slipping on ice this morning.”

your dad cleared his throat loudly and joel gave a polite, throaty laugh. “just wanted to come by and check in. council’s already coordinating with the school board about next steps. might be time to look into some serious ice mitigation.” he glanced at the monitor beside your bed. “but i’ll get out of your hair now. 'pologies again about all the trouble.”

he slipped out of the room quickly after.

“maybe they should also coordinate on the fact that they need to cancel school when the roads are shit,” marcus muttered.

you ignored him. you hadn’t missed how joel’s eyes lingered on you for a second too long. like he was studying something. and it made you uneasy.

you felt itchy.

“gonna stretch my legs,” you said suddenly, swinging your legs over the side of the bed before your dad could protest.

“you need to take it easy,” your dad warned.

“yeah, yeah. i’m just gonna walk the hallway. the beeping’s giving me a migraine.”

he didn’t argue. you slipped out of the room, hospital socks padding softly against the tile floor.

the hallway was quiet.

you rounded a corner—then froze.

just ahead, voices.

you ducked behind a wall just in time.

“—wasn’t gonna let her die,” came ellie’s voice, low and frustrated.

“you don’t get to make that call,” joel said sharply.

“what was i supposed to do? let her get fucking steamrolled in the parking lot?”

“you’re not supposed to draw attention, ellie.”

“too late,” another voice cut in—sharp, feminine. “maybe you actually should’ve let her get steamrolled. would’ve nipped that little obsession you have with her in the bud.”

you blinked. jesus.

joel’s voice turned to steel. “riley.”

“what?” the girl—riley—sounded exasperated. “you really think this town is gonna be different than the others if she starts snooping around?”

“enough,” joel snapped. “we’ve got company.”

you flinched, then slowly peeked around the corner. joel was looking right at you.

riley groaned and turned away. “i’m over this.”

joel gave ellie a look. something unreadable passed between them before he turned to you again. “glad you’re feeling better,” he said smoothly, then walked off after riley.

you and ellie were left alone.

she was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. hands balled into fists.

you stepped closer. “so... what was that about?”

“don’t start,” she said flatly.

“i’m just curious.”

“you’re always curious.”

“you give me a lot to be curious about.”

ellie looked at you, something stormy flickering behind her eyes. “you need to leave it alone,” she said quietly. “seriously.”

you didn’t reply right away.

she sighed.

“i mean it. you ask the wrong question to the wrong person, and... it won’t end well.”

“are you threatening me?”

“no.” her voice softened just a little. “i’m warning you.”

YOU WEREN’T TRYING TO INTERROGATE ELLIE MILLER.

you were just… talking to her. a lot.

and noticing things.

cassie, ever observant and entirely too nosy, clocked it immediately.

“you’re doing the thing,” she said one day during homeroom.

“what thing?”

“the thing where you ignore all my warnings about how freakish the millers are and proceed to ask, like, twelve different questions about them over the course of a week.”

you frowned. “it’s not twelve.”

“it’s ten and counting. i’ve been keeping track.”

you scribbled a mindless doodle into the corner of your notebook. “it’s not like that.”

cassie smirked. “sure.”

and okay—maybe she had a tiny point.

after the hospital, something shifted. ellie wasn’t warm, exactly. but she wasn’t ice cold either. her usual glare had softened to a squint. and sometimes, if you caught her off guard, she’d seem even genuinely interested in what you had to say.

you didn’t know what to do with that.

so you kept testing the waters.

attempt #1: bio lab

you nudged her notebook with your pencil.

“your notes are, like, impossible to follow.”

“they’re not impossible,” she said, without looking up. “they’re just for me.”

you squinted at the chicken scratch.

“what even is that? cursive?”

“alien.”

you stared at her. she glanced up.

“kidding,” she said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “it’s shorthand. you can’t read it.”

“how convenient.”

“maybe you should just pay attention instead of trying to steal my work.”

you flushed. “i’m not stealing.”

“sure,” she said. “you just really like my handwriting.”

you bit your lip to hide a smile.

attempt #4: the parking lot

you were leaning against your car after school, waiting on cassie and leah, when she appeared. no footsteps. no sound. she was just there.

you jumped.

“jesus—”

“chains on your tires yet?” she asked.

you blinked. “what?”

“you mentioned it. last week. your dad said he’d take care of it.”

you narrowed your eyes. “…you remembered that?”

she shrugged. “yeah, i guess i did.”

you stared at her.

she stared back.

"what does it matter to you?”

“just don’t want to have to save you again,” she muttered.

you smiled. “so you admit it. you saved me.”

“oh my god,” she groaned, turning to walk away.

attempt #7: the hallway

you tried to catch her walking between periods.

“hey. wait up.”

ellie paused. didn’t stop walking. just slowed a little.

you fell into step beside her.

“so,” you said casually, “when you… saved me… you moved fast.”

ellie bristled. “...okay?”

“like, really fast.”

she didn’t look at you. “guess adrenaline does that.”

“right,” you said. “but i heard marcus didn’t even hit the brake before you were already pulling me back.”

she stopped walking.

you nearly bumped into her.

“what do you want me to say?” she asked, voice quiet. not angry. just tired. “that i’ve got superpowers?”

you stared at her.

she shook her head. “you need to stop asking questions.”

and, finally, attempt #10: the cafeteria

you slid up next to her on the lunch line, her hood up and face blank as the lunch lady slapped a sloppy joe onto her tray. “so… beach this weekend?”

her brows lifted. “what?”

“we’re planning a trip to colter bay. cassie’s idea. you should come.”

ellie blinked. something in her jaw twitched.

“i don’t do colter bay. actually, i don’t do beaches, period.”

“why not?”

“sand.”

“that’s it? sand?”

“and people,” she added. “and crowds. and being expected to wear a bathing suit.”

you laughed. “you’re a total recluse, huh?”

she shrugged.

“well, the invitation’s open,” you said, nudging her tray. “to, like, all of you.”

ellie didn’t answer.

but her eyes lingered on you a little longer than necessary.

NAT HAD INSISTED ON STOPPING AT A GAS STATION TO PEE.

completely unnecessary, given the drive was only forty minutes, but somehow had turned into twenty minutes of intense debate about what snacks to get and an accidental slushie spill. by the time you rolled up to colter bay, the sun was already beginning to dip, casting a golden haze over the shoreline.

“ugh, i can’t wait to come here when it’s actually hot out again,” devin declared, climbing out of the car and snapping a picture immediately.

you were busy hauling a grocery bag of marshmallows and wine coolers when you spotted a familiar figure walking down the edge of the beach. blonde braid, bulky jacket, broad shoulders.

“well, well,” she said, grinning when she saw you. “look who brought the party.”

“you heard about this?” you asked, surprised.

“manny’s been hyping it up for days,” she said. “he was under the impression there was gonna be ‘hella hot chicks.’ his words, not mine.”

you snorted. “unfortunately, it’s just cassie, leah, devin, and nat. and me. i hope that counts.”

“i dunno,” abby said, giving you a slow once-over. “i definitely think you qualify.”

“abby, shut up and stop flirting” came a voice from behind her—taller guy, long hair, goofy smile. manny, presumably.

the rest of them trailed behind:

nora, serious-faced and sharp-eyed;

mel, eyes lighting up at the sight of the wine coolers;

and owen, who seemed very invested in figuring out who abby was allegedly flirting with.

they all looked... at ease out here. like they did this all the time.

“hey, weren’t the millers invited to this?”

you glanced back at cassie. “yeah i invited them,” you said a little too quickly.

“they never come here,” nora said, sharp and dismissive—almost eager to shut it down.

abby shot her a warning look, but nora just shrugged.

“what?” she said. “i’m just saying. this is our lake.”

“i don’t think it can be your anything,” nat said, half-laughing. “it’s a state park.”

“yeah, sure,” manny said, but there was something weird in the way they all looked at each other.

abby broke the tension with a half-smile. “don’t mind them. they get a little territorial about colter bay. it’s like… home turf.”

“ellie had said she might come,” you muttered quietly, mostly to yourself.

abby nudged your shoulder with hers. “her loss.”

YOU AND ABBY WANDERED OFF AFTER THE SECOND ROUND OF S’MORES.

“you wanna skip rocks?” she asked, already veering off the path toward the lake’s edge.

you nodded. “sure. but i’m warning you now, i have horrible aim.”

“figured,” she smirked. “you’ve got that indoor girl kinda vibe.”

“rude,” you said, scoffing, but it made you smile.

the two of you settled near the shoreline. the lake was quiet now—just the occasional ripple breaking across its surface, catching the light from the stars and the firepit behind you.

“so,” you said, rubbing your arms against the cold, “you guys always hang out way out here?”

abby shrugged. “we live out here. my family, my friends. the rest of the WLF's. always have.”

abby crouched to pick up a flat stone. “you ever hear the stories about this place?”

“like what, ghost stories?”

she tossed the stone. it skimmed once, twice, then sank. “sorta. depends on who you ask.”

you mirrored her, finding your own stone and hurling it with zero technique. it plunked into the water with a pathetic plop.

“they say our people come from wolves,” she chuckled. “wyoming liberation front? WLF? wolf? makes sense.”

“pretty on the nose.”

she ignored that. “and there was another group. back then they called themselves the fireflies. different kind of power. colder. not from the land like we are.”

“and let me guess,” you said. “they were your rivals.”

abby nodded. “my great-grandfather... he caught a group of fireflies on our land, doing something they shouldn’t have.”

“so what happened?”

“he made a deal,” she said. “the fireflies could stay—so long as they didn’t step foot on our land again. in exchange, we wouldn’t tell anyone what we knew. we’d keep our secret. they’d keep theirs.”

you turned that over in your mind. “but that was a long time ago. it still matters now?”

“the millers? they’re fireflies. or what’s left of them. the treaty still stands. it’s why they didn’t come here today.”

you swallowed. “and if they did?”

abby’s face turned serious. “we don’t cross the line. they don’t cross it either.”

there was a finality to the way she said it.

“so what are you guys now?” you asked quietly. “still wolves?”

abby met your gaze. “we’re protectors. of each other. of this place. and sometimes,” her voice dropped, “of people who don’t even know they need protecting.”

your heart stuttered.

"right,” you said, turning back toward the firepit glowing in the distance.

THE BELL ABOVE THE DOOR JINGLED AS YOU STEPPED INTO THE WARM DINER.

your dad was already in his usual booth, newspaper unfolded in front of him, cup of black coffee half-drained.

he glanced up as you slid into the seat across from him, folding the paper in half with one hand. “you’re late.”

“blame leah,” you muttered. “she wanted to walk me through every second of her dream where devin asked her to prom in front of the whole school. with an acoustic guitar. in a tuxedo.”

“romantic,” he deadpanned. “didn’t know teenage boys were capable of that much effort.”

“devin’s barely capable of remembering his own locker combo.”

he grunted a laugh and went back to skimming the paper. the waitress dropped off two menus and topped off your dad’s mug with steaming hot coffee.

“another animal attack,” he said, frowning at the front page. “that’s the third this month.”

you blinked. “where?”

“outside the east edge of town. ranger found what was left of a hiker yesterday morning.”

you took a sip of water, trying to tamp down the chill that slid down your spine. fiddled with the peeling lamination on the menu.

he flipped the paper and took a sip of coffee. “you alright? been kinda quiet since… y’know.”

you didn’t answer right away. your finger traced a line through the condensation on your glass. “i’m fine.”

he glanced up at you, squinting. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you said. “i mean. abby put the chains on my tires. so you can stop worrying about that.”

he grunted. “finally. car like yours needs all the help it can get in this weather.”

“rude.”

“honest.”

“i’m fine,” you repeated. “really. and marcus still won’t stop apologizing even though i told him it’s all good.”

“kid deserves to grovel a little. he’s lucky i didn’t file a report and drag his ass to court.”

you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “his car’s worse off than mine.”

“well, his license should be revoked either way. driving that junker through black ice…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

you let his voice and the chatter in the diner fade into the background as you glanced out the window.

your mind wasn’t on marcus. or your car. or even school.

it was on what abby said at colter bay.

they’re fireflies. or what’s left of them.

the beeping of a microwave from the kitchen pulled you back.

you tapped your nail against your water glass. “hey, dad?”

he looked up, one eyebrow raised.

“…do you ever get the feeling like something’s coming, but you don’t know what?”

he studied you for a second, then leaned back and blew out a slow breath through his nose.

“i think that crash rattled you more than you’re letting on.”

you sighed, shaking your head. “i told you, i’m fine.”

he hummed, clearly not buying it, but didn’t push. reached for his coffee instead.

outside, the sky had turned a heavy grey, and there was a weight to the air that hadn’t been there before.

this work is mine. please don’t repost, copy, or publish elsewhere without permission. thank you!

[scriptumsempra]

Not By Accident

Pairing:  Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: He was supposed to be fighting. Not flying. And definitely not kissing her mid-duel. (Not by accident—or maybe exactly that.)

Tags: No Y/N, Fluff, Teenage Romance, Female MC, Slow burn (but fast collision), Confession(ish), Mutual Pining, Awkward Silence, Banter and Yearning

It was always midnight with them.

Midnight when they slipped past curfews and patrolling ghosts. Midnight when they stumbled into danger they absolutely did not plan for. Midnight when Sebastian grinned sideways and said something reckless — and she rolled her eyes before following anyway.

And tonight, it was Ashwinders.

They were supposed to scout. Observe. Note patterns. Catalogue locations. Return undetected.

But it never quite worked like that when Sebastian was involved — spells flew the second someone made the mistake of calling him “boy.”

He hexed first. She sighed second.

And then all hell broke loose.

She was holding her own, wand steady. A Stupefy here, a Confringo there — deliberate, graceful, controlled. Sebastian, on the other hand, was fighting like a firework: all flare and chaos and brilliant, barely-contained destruction.

He loved a good mess. She made it look like art.

And then someone shouted, “Depulso!”

And he flew — quite literally.

Straight at her.

There was a crash. A gasp.

And suddenly —

Lips.

They weren’t fighting.

They were… kissing.

Or — well. Technically, yes.

His body had slammed into hers, knocking them both to the ground. Her back hit the dirt. His face hit hers. Their mouths, stupidly and perfectly aligned in what could only be described as unfortunate precision.

For a breathless second, neither moved. Her eyes wide. His brain short-circuiting. The warmth of her lips, the absurd closeness — it shorted the world out entirely.

Then someone shouted again. A curse crackled past their heads.

Right — Ashwinders.

Fight first. Humiliation later.

They didn’t speak when it was over.

Just silence.

No quips. No smug grin from him, no eye-roll from her. Just the soft, awkward crunch of gravel underfoot as they stood in the quiet aftermath, trying very hard not to think about what had just happened.

Or more accurately — how it had happened.

And why it hadn’t felt terrible.

She looked, quite frankly, offended.

Her face was bright red, blooming all the way to her ears. Still flushed — but her expression had sharpened, lips drawn, jaw tight, her gaze fixed on a very uninteresting patch of grass. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t have to — the indignation was radiating off her like heat from a wildfire.

He stole a glance anyway.

Eyes on the horizon. Ears red, again. And her mouth — her mouth was pressed into a very thin, very unimpressed line.

She looked like someone who’d had her first kiss stolen in broad daylight and intended to file a formal complaint.

He nearly apologized.

But what would he even say?

Sorry I tackled you lips-first mid-duel?

My bad for thinking it’s kind of nice?

Instead, he kept quiet. Let the silence stretch.

Midnight crept back in — not the thrilling kind this time, but the awkward kind. The kind that rustled leaves without saying anything. The kind where you walked side by side, just close enough to feel the other’s warmth and far enough not to ask for it.

By the time they reached the edge of the castle grounds, her face had faded from crimson to a soft, thoughtful pink. Still quiet. Still avoiding his eyes.

But no longer fuming.

And when the wind lifted a strand of her hair across her cheek, she tucked it back with a sigh — not of exasperation, but something gentler. Something like… resignation.

He risked one more glance.

This time, she finally met his eyes.

Her gaze was steady. Curious, even. The embarrassment had cooled into something contemplative. He could still see the remnants of her blush; more of a fluster than fury.

And Merlin help him — she was adorable.

She didn’t look away.

Didn’t scowl.

Just looked at him like she’d decided — privately, quietly — that it was alright. That maybe she’d forgive him for it.

Eventually.

Maybe.

Sebastian exhaled — not a laugh, not quite. More of a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

The tension slipped from his shoulders.

It was still midnight, technically. But something had changed. Something small.

The kind of shift that didn’t break silence, but softened it.

He nudged her elbow, just barely. “For what it’s worth,” he said, voice low, “I wouldn’t mind doing it properly next time.”

She raised a brow. “Depulso-ing yourself into me?”

“Not exactly the method I had in mind.”

That earned him the smallest scoff. But she didn’t walk away.

Didn’t say no.

Just turned back toward the castle, steps quieter now, as if the night had stopped holding its breath.

He followed, hands in his pockets, heartbeat still embarrassingly off-rhythm.

Romance was never on their syllabus.

Not in 1890 — when propriety was prized and affection was meant to be whispered behind closed doors — certainly not fumbled into, mid-duel and all.

Not when there were cursed sisters to cure and ancient magic to trace.

Not when midnight was just another hour to survive.

But maybe — just maybe — it had found a way in anyway.

Even if it had to crash through.

Lips first.

[ihaznoclue]

Fear Of Losing You

Pairings -> Bayverse TMNT x Reader

Warnings -> Injuries, passing out, other angsty stuff

Note -> After the Shredder fight and defeating him, everyone is pretty injured but you were the worst of all of them as you were used a bait after distracting shredder while Donnie defused the machine. All they need to do now is make sure you stay awake and take you back home to heal you.

Genre -> Angst to Fluff?

A/N - I got inspired by this comic dub that I found on YouTube but I can't remember what it's called, also I hope you guys will enjoy this!

This is one of the worst things that has happened to you, you never thought it was going to be this way. 

After the big fight with shredder, you all got pretty injured as you defeated him. Raph’s shell was slightly cracked from earlier in the snow as he went to get his brothers from Sacks as well some injuries on his arm and shoulder. Leo was hurt on his left arm and right leg, Donnie was slightly bruised and had a big cut on his right arm and Mikey was well Mikey even though he was also hurt on his face as well as his arms. 

But you were the worst, cuts and bruises everywhere as well, maybe a few broken bones here and there as well as a blood trail coming from your forehead from shredder slashers and that shredder used you as bait because you decided to distract him which was a bad idea.

Now you guys finally defeated him, well because of Donnie of course. Defusing the machine and saving the world, but all of their priority was to help you and to heal you. 

“Guys, M’fine..” You are not technically fine as you hunched back in front of Rapheal who has been holding you up, making sure you weren’t gonna fall. You were trying so hard not to fall asleep, Raph’s warmth comforted you as your eyes felt heavy.

“Mikey, call April or Vern to get there van here, we need their van to get back home so Donnie can look at them” Raph suggested

“Already on it!” Mikey confirms while his T-Phone that was made from donnie starts to ring

“Donnie, can you check on them?” Leo requests as Donnie crouches as he puts his goggles on to check your injuries, “Guys really I’m.. fine” Breathing was so difficult right now but you needed to stay strong for them

“Sure, even though I don’t really heal people which is sort of Name’s thing but let me check real quick though” Donnie said as he scanned you, making you squint your eyes a bit at the light

Donnie then lifted his google up as he had a very worried look on his face, making Raph and Leo start to worry as well

“Hey guys, I got April, she’s coming” Mikey’s voice called out, making Leo pat him on his shell “good Job Mikey, she’ll know what to do mostly” Leo spoke. Meanwhile Raph and donnie having a conversation “We’ll have to keep them until April gets here, We also need to stop them bleeding too much or else..” Donnie states

You were trying so hard not to fall asleep right now, Donnie and Raph’s voice became muffled as your eyes started to drop causing ruckus, hearing Leo’s and Mikey’s voice as well. Then you fully fell asleep, but you were able to hear their voice still which was a good sign at least

“Name?!”

“Name you better wake up” 

“Name-!”

“Hang on just a little bit longer” 

“Wake up!” 

“Please wake up” 

“Donnie, My head’s kind of fuzzy” 

“Oh god that's not good, you might have some concussion” 

“April! Anglecakes, you’re finally here!” 

“Where are they?” 

“Right here”

“Shit, Someone has to lift them in order to get them to the van quickly”

“I’ll lift them” 

Then that caused you to wake up, a stinging pain in your body started to spread all over you, you body was more delicate and fragile as the turtles

“ARRGH-- OW!” You yelled out as you hand instantly grabbing onto the person who was carrying you which was Leo

“Careful!” 

“It hurts..” You muttered as tears started to form in your eyes, “I know it does but we are gonna get you back and patch you up” Leo reassured you 

“Casey! Open the door!” April’s voice yelled out, then hearing a door slide open

“Oh dang, Here put them on the backseat” Casey said as he went to the front, making sure everyone was now in the van

Hearing the door slide close, you were place down slowly and carefully by Leo, then he crouched down in a sitting position in front of you as he was there to keep you awake

“They need to stay awake, They are in a lot of pain but they need to wait until we get home” Donnie told Leo who nodded, “Casey, get us home” Donnie huffed as he sat down too

Then you felt it, the van started to move. Feeling a sense of comfort as Leo kept you awake, moving some hair away from your face as his finger wiped some blood off your face that was from shredders slashers

Meanwhile, Donnie was checking on his brothers making sure they were fine even though he was hurt as well

Snapping Raph out of his trance as he reasked “You said your head is fuzzy?” Donnie asked, “Mhm..” 

“It might…. be a concussion, but start with his other wounds..” You muttered out “Name you shouldn't be talk-” Leo spoke up “No.. no, that’s good. What do I need to do” Donnie interrupts 

“Clean his wound first… if it’s still bleeding… apply pressure..but not to much” You huffed out, Donnie followed your instructions as Raph grunted in response while Donnie looks at his injuries as he did the same with Leo 

“Done! Mikey come here so I can check you” Donnie called out as Mikey came from the front of the van to the back 

There was a slight cut over his eye, bleed spilling down slowly as Donnie cleaned it, then he started to check his arms

“Geez Mikey, what did you do? They look pretty bad..” You admits when you spotted his arms, “Well He tried to distract Shredder but got attacked” Donnie notes as you nodded 

“You did a good job mikey” Leo commented 

“We are here! Donnie, can you open the garage for us?” April asked as Donnie was already on it as he pressed a button on his wrist and the garage finally opened as April drove inside, making the garage close behind

“Alright we need to get them inside, Leo grab the first aid kit quickly” April yells out as Leo open the van door as he quickly went to go get the first aid kit, “Mikey I’ll take care of you, Casey go get Splinter, he’ll take care of Raph and Leo while Donnie takes care of Name” 

“Okay, I’m gonna lift you up and then carry you on the bed” Donnie reassured as you got ready to get picked up, knowing it was going to hurt

Donnie carefully placed his arms under you and he picked you up causing your ears to ring, hissing as you grabbed onto Donnie as hurried over to the bed

“Stay awake Dove, Keep your eyes open we are nearly--” 

You passed out again, causing Donnie to panic, rushing over to the bed. He quickly got everything ready as he put an IV fluid on your arm from your blood loss. He was hoping you were going to wake up soon, Casey helping in the process 

But he needed to scan you for any other injuries he might not know off, while donnie does that master splinter was taking care of Raph as he already bandaged Leo first, “I am almost done then you two can go see Name” 

“Hai Sensei” Leo bowed as he honoured his dad for patching him and his brother up, hoping MIkey and you were alright

While with April and Mikey, April was running the sink as she soaked a towel “Alright you’re almost done, I just to patch you up and then you’ll be off to see if Name is alright” 

“Thanks dudette” 

Then started to wrap the bandages around his arms, Mikey looked miserable, he didn’t like how hurt his brothers and you were. 

“Hey April, can I ask something?” Mikey mumbles as he looks down, April tilted her head as she hummed, still concentrating on his arms “What’s up big guy?”

“Do you think they are going to be alright?” 

“Oh Mikey, they are going to be alright, You’re brothers are tough” 

“What about Name, they are more worse than all of us” 

“Let me tell you one thing, Name isn’t going to give up. I’ve known them since I was a little kid, I know they are going to be alright, just have some faith in them and they’ll be okay”

Meanwhile with Donnie, he was looking at your scan, the screen showed an x-ray of you and you’re amount of injuries you have gathered from Shredder

Donnie was in disbelief, but now you were waking up as you turned to spot Casey sitting in the corner waiting to help Donnie with something, Then you spotted Donnie staring, looking like he zoned out

“Are you going to let.. Me see Don?” You spoke out, no response “Donnie?” 

“Oh good you’re awake, Casey come over here to help me” Donnie said as Casey stood up walking over, You and Casey high-fived each other as he was relieved you were awake now

Donnie then moved his screen to show Casey, “Alright, Casey going to need your help here, we have a lot of stuff to do, I don’t think Name will be in the right condition to help us” 

“I’m right here.. You know” 

“Alright, we are dealing with some broken bones, some internal bleeding but I already got that out of the way, we also need to deal with their cuts and their bruises” 

“I’ll stitch their deep cuts” Casey volunteered as Donnie went to check up on his brothers

“You need to hold still or else it’s going to make it worse if you keep moving” 

“I’m trying, it just hurts” You started to tear up as you held your breath wanting Donnie to come back

“Where’s don?” You asked as Casey finished up which caused you to hiss a little form the pain that stung your arm

“I’m right here” Donnie’s voice called out, turning your head to see Leo following behind him to help heal you up

“Alright, I finished with the stitching” Casey informs 

“Good, now we need to deal with their broken bones, we need to put their leg and arm in a cast, Leo I need you to help, they need to stay still for this” 

“On it” Leo said as he grabbed you but not too tightly in case he hurts you, While Donnie was now going to apply the plaster then put on the cast for your leg

You were getting ready for the pain to come, as soon it touches your leg pain stung your body as you yelled out, leaned onto Leo as you grabbed him 

“Alright, I’m nearly done. Don’t move your leg too much Name” 

“It hurts.. It hurtsss..” You repeatedly muttered as you were still grabbing onto Leo’s shoulder to stable you

His arm was wrapped around you protectively as he hushed you “You’re nearly done” 

“Okay I’m done, Make sure Name stays awake Leo” Donnie pointed out as your eyes got tired, until the doors swung open revealing Mikey “What happened!?” He screamed out until Raph popped out his head inside the room

“Oh Mikey, Raph good you guys are patched up” Donnie sighed 

MIkey and Raph spotted you shaking in Leo’s arms as they felt troubled by your expression, they knew you weren’t feeling the greatest but at least Donnie was there to help

“Donnie.. You need someone to bandage your arm..” You mumbled out causing Donnie to look at his arm totally forgetting his arm was cut open a bit

“Leo go help Donnie..” You said as Leo looked down at you “You sure?” You nodded “Mikey and Raph will look after me..I’ll be fine..” 

“Alright donnie Let’s get you patched up..” 

You sighed as you saw Mikey coming over with a sad face, crouching down near the bed, you gave out a small smile towards him saying that you were fine, then spotted Raph standing awkwardly 

“Raph.. come over here” The words that came out of your mouth made Raph focus on you as he huffed, walking over to you 

“Geez Angel.. How are you feeling?” Mikey asked, “Feeling a little bit better just hurts everywhere..” 

“I wanna sleep.. But I want to wait for leo.. And donnie” 

“Sleep, we’ll make sure they are fine.. You look exhausted” Raph suggested as MIkey nodded in agreement as he played with your hair which soothed you a bit

You whined as your eyes felt heavy as they fluttered closed, they were relieved that you finally got some sleep

A couple of minutes after Donnie and Leo came back to noticed that you were asleep while mikey and Raph were sitting near the bed as they fell asleep themselves 

Looks like they were tired too, maybe they should have a little nap as well from the chaos that has happened today..

-A<3

[miclipse]

IM SCREAMING ur new raf fic with him being a literal fish WAS SO DANG CUTE ugh towards the end where he finally starts to warm up to her i wish he could give her a hug but he is technically a fish so KDKDKD

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ a fish's embrace.

pairing: rafayel x fem! reader

synopsis: how do fishes give hugs? well, this is how rafayel does it.

word count: 1.8k

cw: afab! reader, rafayel is a fish (literally), reader is a princess, slight angst/comfort, fluff, slight mentions of death.

note: hear me out anon... you kept me up at night with this. read this first for context!! comments appreciated <3

“hi fifi, how’s your day?”

the familiar sight of you lowering yourself to sit on the chair and peering into his fishtank caught rafayel’s attention.

rafayel swam out of the coral he usually hid himself in, a trail of bubbles following behind him as his tail flapped left and right.

well, there was only so much rafayel could do everyday in this fishtank. some include performing his everyday underwater stretches and somersaults, as well as gobble up the pellets you would pour into his tank during meal times.

although rafayel does not mind being a domestic pet to a princess, he was a social fish— or what humans would call an extrovert. and isolating him in a fishtank with no other companions really had a toll on his mental health (yes, fishes have them too).

well, he had you. but conversations with you were one-sided. he tried communicating with you verbally, hoping you possessed some sort of special power that allowed you to speak to animals like those fairytales he would read about when he was still a small fry. but to no avail.

all you understood from him was glub glub glub and a couple of bubbles escaping through his mouth.

some fish could easily live in solitude, but rafayel was not one of them. he loved mingling and talking to other fellow fishes. he may not be fond of socializing all the time, but having a fellow fish to talk to occasionally would be nice.

it had been a while since he last had a proper two-way conversation with a fellow fish. those nights where he would be laughing and joking around with his friends was now replaced with being trapped in an enclosure and listening to you complain about royal affairs he doubted he was even supposed to be aware about.

rafayel learnt from you that the problems humans face was a million times more than the problems fishes like him face. his only concern back when he was still in the ocean was whether he would be a shark’s snack.

“do you ever feel lonely in here?” your sad sigh directed rafayel’s attention back to you. your hair was still wet from your recent shower, making it stick to your neck and leave a damp patch on the nightgown you currently had on. you rested your chin on the palm of your hand, staring into rafayel’s aquatic terrarium with a guilty expression.

rafayel responded with a glub and a couple bubbles coming out of his mouth.

“i was thinking of returning you back to your actual home,”

…wait, what did you just say?

suddenly, rafayel was filled with a sense of dread, his mind running a hundred miles per minute. you were planning to abandon him just like that? it had only been approximately two months (almost coming to three).

he was finally able to convince himself that you were far from those spoiled brats he had heard stories about back when he was a baby fish living in the ocean. was that kind nature of yours nothing but a facade? he thought the two of you were close enough to be honest with each other.

how could you be so cruel to make him develop such a strong sense of attachment and reliability towards you, only for you to want to throw him back into the ocean where you had initially found him?

just when rafayel was contemplating about dramatically leaping out from the top of the tank and perishing right then and there on your study table filled with confidential documents, you spoke again.

“but i don't want to be lonely again.” you whispered, now slumping over your desk with your arm as a cushion for your head. your index finger was absentmindedly tracing shapes and letters against the surface of rafayel's tank.

rafayel stayed still, blinking at you behind the glass and impatiently urging you to continue with what you were implying.

sometimes, he hated it whenever you talked in a way that left so much suspense in the air.

seriously, couldn't you just treat him like an inanimate object and just blurt out whatever that was on your mind? you were acting as if you were waiting for his response, and it made him feel annoyed to a certain extent.

it wasn't like you could understand him even if he were to respond to you anyways. all you could hear was glub glub glub.

“you're the only one that i can confide in. if you're gone, i don't know what to do anymore.”

you sounded… pitiful.

everyone would have thought being a princess was full of a life of privileges, fun and riches. but no one ever saw the harsh reality beneath the beautiful facade of your life.

rafayel wasn't sure if this was the life of every princess to exist, but if it really was the case, then every princess definitely led a miserable life.

the only difference between you and other princesses was that not all of them necessarily had a pet fish that they could turn to during times like this.

“you probably think i'm selfish, huh?” you mumbled to rafayel with a small smile, a faint chuckle escaping your lips. “holding you hostage in my tank just so i have someone to talk to.”

you've perfectly read rafayel's mind, the only flaw was that your mind reading seemed to have a two month delay.

two months ago, if you were to say the same exact words as you did just a few seconds ago, rafayel would have agreed with you in a heartbeat.

but things were different now. much, much different.

rafayel was a social fish. he missed being able to talk and have people (or fishes) actually understand what he was saying. he missed spending his nights keeping his fellow fish companions awake as they all told each other stories of what they've encountered while swimming around in the oceans during the day.

but if given the opportunity to choose between a life of solitude in your bedroom and swimming around aimlessly in the oceans, he would choose this life.

rafayel would choose you over and over again in a hundred lifetimes.

occasionally during the day when you were away for your royal duties, rafayel would think about this alot (not that he had anything else to do in here).

he had come to realise that when he were to eventually die one day, he'd much rather die here in this fishtank as compared to dying in the vast abyss of the ocean, where he wouldn't even know what was to happen to his carcass after his heart stopped beating. the most realistic scenario was that he would be eaten up by a shark or another hungry fish in the waters, but even just the thought of that sent shivers down the fish’s spine.

sure, rafayel had fish friends out there in the ocean, but who was to say that they hadn't already been devoured by other sea creatures?

a life out in the wild was always accompanied by danger, and rafayel was at an even greater disadvantage with his size as compared to the other animals living alongside him in the waters.

at least if he died here, he knew he would be remembered by you. he hated to think that he could no longer comfort and be there for you the day you would cry and weep over his passing, but he knew that he would forever live on in your heart at the very least.

the two of you were just a pair of lonely souls trying to heal each other despite your difficulties communicating to each other. rafayel was here for you to vent your frustrations of life as a princess, and you would be here to keep rafayel safe and remembered.

with you, rafayel had an identity. he was no longer a lost and stray fish swimming around in the ocean, worrying constantly of when he would be gobbled up.

he was your biggest treasure, your beloved fifi.

with him, you could put down the invisible crown along with the shackles of your status. you weren’t a princess, you weren’t the girl getting lectured and scolded by your parents for your misconduct. you were just an ordinary girl who absolutely adored her pet fish and cuddled with her plushies.

perhaps the two of you did have some similarities.

despite the many differences the two of you had, it was the small similarities you two shared that made your bond with each other so strong even with the lack of verbal communication.

that's right. the bond between you and rafayel was so strong that you both didn't even need verbal communication to come to a mutual understanding.

“i love you, fifi.”

hearing your declaration of love made rafayel feel all fuzzy inside today. perhaps it was because of how vulnerable the conversation (or monologue) was tonight, but he felt extra affectionate towards you today.

you slowly dipped the pad of your index finger into the tank, putting into careful consideration not to frighten rafayel away with any sudden movements.

rafayel tilted his head up to look at your index finger slowly sinking into the tank. you never moved your index finger towards him, you always left your finger in the middle of the tank to wait for him to approach you if he felt like it.

rafayel greatly respected that about you.

slowly swimming up towards your finger, he could picture the smile slowly growing on your face without even needing to turn to look at you.

although rafayel may be a fish, he would definitely put in an effort to show you that he loves you too.

rafayel used his bottom fins to wrap around your finger as a way to give you a hug.

a soft gasp could be heard, and you tried to contain your excitement but rafayel could feel how your finger was trembling with happiness as you tried not to make any sudden movements that'll frighten him away from you.

the both of you remained in this state for a few moments, enjoying the silence. rafayel was initially unsure of how you would react to him attempting to hug you, but his worries about that dissipated the moment he saw the expression on your face.

rafayel had no way to describe the way you were staring at him, but he could read what was currently in your mind.

thank you for loving me too, fifi.

and a part of him felt satisfied that his mind reading skills was much better than yours, because at least he could beat you at something.

as rafayel’s fins continued hugging your finger, he smiled faintly to himself. so this was how it felt to hug a human, huh?

tonight, he was not rafayel. he was not the fish that lived in the wild, loving freedom and dangerous adventures.

tonight, he was fifi. the princess’s beloved pet fish that she loved immeasurably.

all rights reserved © miclipse 2024. do not repost, plagiarize, copy, modify or translate my works on any platforms.

[luffington]

heat of the summer ♡

➤ summary: It's the hottest day of the year, and thankfully, you're dating the coldest man alive. (18+)

➤ pairing: aokiji (kuzan) x afab!reader

➤ word count: 1.7k

➤ warnings: temperature play, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, established relationship, post-timeskip (mild spoilers)

➤ notes: easily one of the sexiest characters in op but he does Not get the love he deserves... sorry if this feels rushed, i tried my hardest to write pwp!

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Summer days on summer islands were always pretty intense, but that day was particularly unbearable. According to the daily news, the entire area was experiencing a heat wave, and it was the hottest day the town had seen in decades. Steam rose off of the pavement outside as the sun beat down relentlessly. The air was thick and muggy. Even with every window open, heat was trapped inside your house and it baked like an oven. 

Not that it mattered to Aokiji, of course. He was actually enjoying the bit of warmth he could feel in his unnaturally cold body. The man was lazily reclining back in a chair with the forgotten newspaper draped over his face, giving him some shade he could doze off in. 

The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open. He blinked away the sleep from his eyes and peeked out from underneath the paper. You looked miserable. Cheeks bright red, sweat dripping down your face, wet strands of hair stuck to your forehead. Your shorts had been discarded long ago and patches of sweat even soaked through your t-shirt – well, technically his t-shirt, which was comically oversized on you. You held your chest as if you were in genuine pain and whined, “Kuzan, I’m hot.”

“Arara...” Your boyfriend gave you a blank stare. “How cliché.”

Soon your sticky back was pressed against his deliciously cool bare chest, his scarred arm wrapped firmly around your waist to hold you still in his lap. Chilly breath tickled the side of your neck, which would’ve felt refreshing had the situation been innocent. Aokiji’s large thighs hooked under your own to keep your legs wide open for him, your pussy on full display and ass nestled snugly over his clothed bulge. His free hand cupped and kneaded at your breasts.

“I-I think that nipple is, ahh, cool enough now…” You moaned as his icy fingers pulled at the fully pebbled nub, already overwhelmed from the shocking change of temperature. Your other nipple had received the same treatment moments earlier.

“Really?” He asked in his typical deadpan tone, resting his stubbly chin on your shoulder to watch himself run his thumb over the areola. You squirmed in his lap and whimpered, not missing the way his cock twitched beneath you. “I dunno, still feels sweaty to me.”

He could play with your tits for hours if you let him, but you were growing impatient. “I’m hot in other p-places too.” You nuzzled your cheek against his own, his dense curls tickling your skin. 

Aokiji hummed thoughtfully and gave your nipple a final harsh twist, making you gasp. “Show me where.” He teasingly trailed his fingers across your stomach to rub at your hip bone soothingly. “Here?” Moving further down to wrap around your upper thigh, which he gently squeezed in his large palm. “Or here?”

“You’re so irritating,” you pouted. “You know where.”

“Hey, I’m doing all the work here. I’m allowed to have fun.” He grunted and playfully slapped your thigh, smirking at your reaction. But the man didn’t waste any more time – his patience was running almost as thin as yours, judging by the hardon straining for release beneath you. He shifted his knees to spread your legs even more and ran his middle finger through your needy slit. You let out a shaky sigh of relief, eyes fluttering closed. “Mm, I think this heat may be a little out of my control.”

The former Admiral slyly made his thumb a bit frostier than usual, then pressed it firmly against your clit. You yelped in surprise. “Hey, that’s too cold!”

“First you’re too hot, now you’re too cold. Pick a side, baby.” 

“You’re making my body sound like Punk Hazard.”

“Haha, very funny.” He replied sarcastically, trying to hide the amused smile tugging at his full lips. “See what that smart mouth gets you.” 

Suddenly, two fingers shoved past your lips and prodded at the back of your throat. They were instantly coated in spit as you gagged around them, the ridges and grooves of his scarred skin pressing against your wet cavern. The sensation actually felt pretty nice, like sucking on an ice cube. You wished it was his tongue shoved down your throat instead, but Aokiji refused to turn his head and tear his gaze away from your body. 

The man hummed contently when he felt how wet you already were, slick already flowing out of your hole. He shoved a finger inside your cunt all the way to the knuckle, watching transfixed as the large digit slid in and out with a lewd squelching noise. Soon a second finger was added, rubbing at your walls deliciously.

“You could’ve come to me hours ago and asked me to help with the heat, y’know. Then you wouldn’t be all sweaty.” You whined around his fingers as he expertly scissored you apart, messy drool running down your chin. “But you waited until you were all riled up, right? Knowing that I can’t resist this wet pussy?”

Without warning, he firmly pressed against the spot inside you that made you see stars. You jerked in his grasp but he wouldn’t let up his rough pace, pistoning in and out of you while completely ignoring your clit. With wide eyes, you realized what he was trying to do. 

“C’mon baby, let this pretty cunt squirt for me.” He rasped, speeding up his movements and practically hitting your cervix with every thrust. You tried to moan his name around the intrusion in your mouth, heat building in your core until it exploded in a rush of juices spewing out of you. Fingers milking every last drop until you were shaking and shuddering in his arms. He let out a deep chuckle when he noticed the wet stain on his pants. “So good.” He withdrew his digits from your mouth, turned your head towards his and kissed you gently, tongues lazily dancing around each other. 

In one fluid motion, Aokiji stood with your bodies still pressed together and bent you over the table in front of you. You tried to regain your senses, lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, when you heard the metallic sound of a zipper behind you. “Wh-wha…?” You looked over your shoulder to see the man stroke his fully hardened dick a few times. “More already?!”

“I thought this was about cooling you off,” Aokiji tapped the head of his cock against your clit, making you cry out from overstimulation. “Last I checked, it’s only getting hotter outside.” 

He danced his fingertips down your spine, leaving behind a light trail of ice that quickly melted into cool droplets of water. Delighting in the way his icy touch made you shiver and shake. Then he grabbed your hip hard and slowly pushed his massive length inside your awaiting heat. 

“Shit, so tight,” Aokiji groaned from deep in his throat. He was only halfway inside you and you were already overwhelmed, desperately clawing at the table’s smooth surface for some stability. The man halted his movements and folded his body over yours, careful not to put too much of his weight on you. Your size difference wasn’t lost on him – even after countless rounds of fucking over time, your cunt still had trouble adjusting to his length. “Hey, you okay?” He asked softly, his chilly breath tickling your ear. You took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. “I know it’s a lot. Just relax, baby. You’re doing so well.”

He took your hands in his own, interlacing your fingers, and pressed a quick kiss to your temple. Once your breathing had slowed, he continued to slowly move his hips forward, pushing in inch after inch of his cock. You mewled when his hips finally met yours, heavy balls slapping against your cunt. 

“Let me know when it’s okay to move.” His thumb ran soothing circles over the back of your hand. 

You only took a minute to adjust, letting your muscles relax and open up for him. Your cunt was still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but at least it was wet enough to make the glide smoother. When you were ready, you smiled to yourself and said, “I’m surprised you’re moving at all. I figured your lazy ass would make me ride you. Again.”

“Yeah, you’re okay now.” He rolled his eyes affectionately and pulled his cock halfway out before roughly slamming back into you. You practically shrieked at the delicious burn on your walls. 

He quickly established a harsh pace, rocking the table back and forth with the force of his thrusts. His enormous dick hit your cervix every time, causing a delightful mix of pleasure and pain throughout your core. Your stomach felt so full — you knew from experience that it was bulging with the outline of his cock. 

Your eyes rolled back into your head when he started rubbing your clit in tight circles. He was already close. He normally had more stamina, but seeing you so desperate for him, the only person in the world who could provide this comfort on a hot day, made his balls ache. 

“Gonna cum,” he grunted and nipped at your ear.

That was the only warning you got before the icy man’s hot cum burst inside you, coating your walls. The feeling of nearly impossible fullness brought you to your peak as well and you cried out, eyes scrunched shut and mouth hanging open. Aokiji’s giant body stayed pressed to your back, thumb drawing cold circles on your hip as he waited for you to come down from your high. You jolted when he finally pulled his cock out and he let out a low whistle at the sight of his semen flowing out of your hole and down your thighs. 

Body still slumped over the table, you looked back at him and batted your eyelashes. “Can you cool me off in a normal way now?”

“Sure,” he shrugged and hoisted your body over his broad shoulder, making you squeal in surprise. He paid no mind, casually strolling towards the bedroom. “I’ll be the big spoon.”

“Wha— Kuzan, it’s two pm!” You protested, knowing you’d be stuck in bed cuddling him for at least a few hours. “I meant, like… creating ice cubes for me. Or taking a cold shower together.”

“Nope. It’s my nap time.” 

Well, it was too hot to do something else, anyways.

[its-avalon-08]

Hi, could you do a Ferando angst to fluff fic where he and Reader have been dating since his return to F1 and he is frustrated with the team's current season and the reader tries to assure him that everything is going be better and he takes his frustration out on her and they have an argument to the point where he calls her by his ex's name and with that she gives up on continuing the argument and locks herself in the guest room while crying and rethinking their entire relationship, while he tries to apologize and is unsuccessful and goes out to cool his head, and after she woke up, she packs some bags to travel to her modeling gig but before leaving, even though she is sad with his attitude, leaves a note saying that she needs some time to think and that she will be traveling for work so that he doesn't worry thinking that it was all over between them. And during this time, Fernando feels guilty for taking out his frustrations on the person who was always by his side and tries in every way to win Reader back and try to work on their relationship. When the news comes out that he doesn't feel well, Reader gets worried about what might have happened to him and comes back early and takes care of him. In addition to him apologizing for being an idiot and promising to work on their relationship more and not let the frustrations with the team affect their relationship. When his 400th race arrives, he thanks her for being there for him through the good and bad times and tells her how important she is to him.

don't run away (fa2)

✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader

✦ genre - ansgt, ansgt, ansgt, tears, calling ex's name

It started slowly, subtle shifts in Fernando’s demeanor that crept in like shadows. At first, it was nothing that couldn’t be shrugged off—the usual frustrations of a tough season. But as the races wore on and the team struggled to deliver consistent results, his patience began to unravel.

At the garage, he’d be fine in the morning, shaking hands with the engineers, throwing a nod to the mechanics. But as soon as a practice session went poorly or a technical issue cropped up, his mood would turn. He’d clench his jaw, mutter under his breath in Spanish, and become more withdrawn, his usual intensity morphing into something harsher.

Y/N noticed it the most at home. After every disappointing race or qualifying session, he’d come back and barely say a word. The warm, easygoing Fernando she loved was gradually being replaced by a man who was angry, stressed, and constantly on edge.

One evening, after a particularly bad qualifying, Fernando slammed the door to their apartment harder than usual. Y/N looked up from the book she was reading on the couch, catching sight of his dark, stormy expression.

“Hey, you’re home,” she greeted gently, hoping to lift his spirits. She stood up, reaching out to him, but he just sighed, brushing past her and heading straight for the kitchen.

She followed him, watching as he poured himself a glass of water, his movements sharp and frustrated.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked cautiously, hoping he’d let her in.

He shook his head, barely glancing at her. “Nothing to talk about,” he muttered. “It’s just the same issues over and over again. They promise they’ll fix it, and nothing changes. I’m just wasting my time out there.”

She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Maybe it’s just a rough patch? I’m sure the team’s doing everything they can—”

“Are they?” he interrupted, his tone sharp. He set his glass down with a little too much force, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. Feels like I’m out there driving my heart out for nothing.”

Y/N took a step closer, trying to ease the tension. “Fernando, it’s not for nothing. You’re doing your best, and that’s what matters.”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “What’s the point of my best if it doesn’t get me anywhere? I can’t keep doing this, Y/N. It’s exhausting.”

She reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “I know, cariño. But I’m here for you, okay? We’ll get through this together.”

But instead of softening, he pulled his arm away, exasperation flashing in his eyes. “What do you mean ‘we’? I’m the one putting in the work, putting myself on the line out there. You don’t understand, Y/N—you don’t know what it’s like to be stuck in this situation, giving everything and getting nothing in return.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the sting of his words hitting her. She took a small step back, giving him space. “I may not be out there with you,” she said softly, “but I know how much you care about this. I’m only trying to help.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” But even as he apologized, he didn’t meet her eyes. The tension lingered between them, unspoken and heavy.

In the days that followed, the distance between them grew. Fernando started coming home later and later, throwing himself into extra training or staying at the garage long after everyone else had gone. At home, he was irritable, snapping over the smallest things, and often retreating to his study, leaving Y/N alone to wonder what she could do to help.

One evening, as she prepared dinner, she heard him sigh loudly from the living room. She walked over, trying once more to bring him out of his gloom.

“Do you want to talk about the race debrief?” she asked, offering a hopeful smile.

Fernando looked up from his phone, a frown creasing his brow. “Not really, no.”

“But maybe if you let it out, it’ll—”

“Y/N, I don’t need a pep talk right now,” he snapped, his voice cold and clipped. “I’m not a child who needs consoling every time something goes wrong.”

Her face fell, and she took a step back, the hurt evident in her eyes. “I just… I want to be here for you, Fernando. That’s all.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “Well, maybe I need space right now. Maybe I just want to deal with this on my own without someone trying to fix everything all the time.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. She opened her mouth to respond but stopped herself, pressing her lips together as she nodded, retreating back to the kitchen, her heart aching.

As the weeks went by, their conversations became shorter, stilted. The vibrant, passionate Fernando she knew was slipping away, replaced by a man consumed by frustration and self-doubt. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to reach him, to pull him out of the storm he was drowning in.

Each night, she would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what else she could do, how she could bridge the growing gap between them. But every morning, she would wake up to see him leave earlier, come back later, and pull away even more.

The man who used to laugh with her, who would dance around the kitchen with her, who whispered sweet nothings in her ear, had been buried under layers of anger and exhaustion. And as much as she tried to hold on, she could feel him slipping away.

--

The dim lights cast a soft glow over the living room as Y/N leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter, watching Fernando. She could see the frustration in his face, the tense set of his jaw as he rubbed his temples, his posture rigid with the weight of the latest race. She wanted to comfort him, to reassure him that it would get better, but every word she’d tried earlier had been met with a wall of silence.

“Fernando,” she began softly, inching closer. “You know, this season is just a rough patch. You've faced so much worse and come back stronger every time. You’re going to—”

“Y/N, stop.” Fernando’s voice came out sharper than he intended, and his eyes darkened with an intensity that made her heart falter. “You don’t understand. It’s not just a rough patch. This whole season has been a disaster, and every race, it feels like I'm just fighting against nothing. Nothing is working.”

“I do understand, though,” she insisted gently, keeping her voice calm. “I know how much it hurts. But it’s not all on you. The team is trying, you’re trying—”

“Trying?” he scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “It doesn’t matter if I’m trying. No one cares if I try. All they care about is results, and right now, I can’t give them that. So what’s the point?”

“The point is that you’ve always been a fighter,” Y/N said, feeling a swell of frustration herself. “You’ve never been the kind of person to just give up. But here you are, acting like—”

“Oh, please, spare me the motivational speech!” Fernando snapped, his voice rising. “Do you think I haven’t heard all of this before? Do you think any of it actually helps?”

“I'm just trying to be here for you, Fernando!” she replied, her voice breaking slightly. “You’re pushing everyone away, and I’m the only one left standing. Do you want to push me away, too?”

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, looking away, a storm brewing in his gaze. “You’re just…you’re just making it worse. Every time you say these things, it’s like you’re pretending that everything’s fine when it isn’t. Nothing is fine!”

Y/N felt her own frustration boiling over. “Maybe I’m trying to remind you that you’re not alone, Fernando. You’re not the only one going through this. I’m here with you—whether you want to believe it or not.”

But Fernando only shook his head, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Sometimes I think you’re better off without me. I mean, do you even know what this life is like? You see a bad race, and you think it’s just one bad day. But it’s a thousand bad days for me, and I’m just—”

“Don’t you dare,” she interrupted, her voice trembling. “Don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know. I’ve stood by you through everything. I know what it’s like to feel helpless, but I’m still here!”

Fernando’s frustration boiled over, and in his anger, he didn’t think before he spoke. “Lara, why don’t you just—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as the name fell from his lips. Y/N’s breath hitched, her face going pale as his words sank in.

The room went silent, an uncomfortable, suffocating silence. She stared at him, her expression crumbling as the hurt flashed across her face. “What did you just call me?”

Fernando’s face contorted with regret, realizing his mistake too late. “Y/N…I—”

“No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You called me by her name.”

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to…” he stammered, reaching out for her. “I’m sorry, I was just frustrated, and—”

But she stepped back, hurt and disbelief etched across her face. “I get it now. This whole time, you’ve been here with me, but your mind has been somewhere else. You’re so caught up in the past that you can’t even see who’s standing right in front of you.”

“Don’t say that,” Fernando said desperately, reaching for her again, but she shook her head, pulling away.

“Enough,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’ve tried so hard to be there for you, but all I get is anger and resentment. And now, this?” She wiped at a tear that had slipped down her cheek, the betrayal and heartache painted on her face. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Y/N, please, just let me explain,” he pleaded, but she was already walking away.

“No, I don’t want to hear it.” Her voice was cold, a kind of finality in it that stung more than any words she’d said before. “I’m done trying to be someone I’m not just to keep you from falling apart. I’m done being your emotional punching bag.”

Before he could say anything else, she disappeared into the guest room, locking the door behind her. Fernando stood there, his heart pounding, staring at the closed door, helpless.

Inside the guest room, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of everything crash down on her. The tears came quickly, her hands shaking as she clutched the edge of the bedspread, trying to steady herself. How had they gotten here? She thought they’d been building something together, a real future, but now…it all felt like a lie. The moment he’d called her by his ex’s name, something had shattered, leaving her questioning everything she’d fought for in their relationship.

Outside, Fernando leaned against the door, guilt eating away at him as he listened to her quiet sobs. He’d hurt the one person who’d been by his side, and he didn’t know how to fix it. Taking a shaky breath, he turned away, walking out of the apartment to get some air, feeling the cold night air hit him as he tried to gather his thoughts.

For the first time in years, Fernando Alonso didn’t know how to move forward.

--

Y/N drifted into a fitful sleep, her body curled up on the guest room bed, clutching the pillow as if it were the only thing holding her together. The tears had left her drained, her face stained with evidence of a night spent questioning everything she thought they had together. She wanted to understand, wanted to find a way to reconcile his words and the ache in her chest, but sleep took her in spite of herself, leaving her mind restless.

Morning light filtered in through the guest room window, waking her. She felt the heavy weight of last night pressing down, her heart sinking all over again as she remembered his voice, the name that had slipped from his lips so carelessly.

It was just a name…he was just frustrated…but why does it feel like so much more?

Y/N rubbed at her swollen eyes, steeling herself as she got up. She had a modeling gig that she needed to get to, and she couldn't afford to miss it—not with the way things felt so uncertain now. She packed a small bag quietly, not wanting to disturb Fernando if he was still in the apartment. Every item she folded and placed in her bag felt like a part of her heart being stored away, her resolve hardening with each piece of clothing.

Before she left, she hesitated, her eyes flickering to the empty hallway. She didn't want to leave him without a word—despite everything, she still cared. Maybe he thinks it’s over, she thought, and that hurt more than anything else. Taking a pen and paper, she jotted down a quick note and left it on the kitchen counter, pausing to reread it before setting it down.

"Fernando, I’m going to take some time for myself. I have work I need to focus on, and I think we both need to clear our heads. I’m not leaving for good, but I need time to think about us, and I hope you understand that. I’ll be back, but please don’t contact me until I’m ready to talk. – Y/N"

She sighed, setting down the note with a shaky hand. Her chest felt heavy, but this was what she needed—to find clarity, to decide if she could really keep standing by his side after last night. With one last glance around the apartment, she walked out, closing the door softly behind her.

Fernando woke up in the early afternoon, his body tense and aching from a restless night on the couch. His first thought was Y/N, and his heart jumped, the events of the previous night flooding back to him in harsh detail. What have I done? The regret clawed at him, a pit in his stomach as he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Y/N?" he called out, hoping to see her emerge from the hallway, maybe tired and sad but willing to listen. But only silence greeted him. He stood, feeling a pang of panic as he checked the guest room, finding it empty.

His breathing grew shallow as he checked the closet, noticing a few empty hangers. "No…no, please…" He murmured, his voice trembling as he moved to the living room, scanning the apartment frantically, hoping she’d left a sign she was still there.

I pushed her too far. I let my anger get the best of me, and now…she’s gone. He felt like the air had been knocked out of him as the full weight of her absence hit.

His eyes fell to the kitchen counter, where a small piece of paper caught his attention. Heart pounding, he reached for it, hands shaking as he read the words. Each line hit him with fresh regret, and when he finished, his vision blurred as tears filled his eyes.

"She needs time…" he whispered aloud, choking on his words. He gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to steady himself. I’ve hurt her so much that she needs time away from me just to think.

“Oh, Y/N…” he muttered, a tear slipping down his cheek as he sank into the nearest chair. The silence of the apartment felt like a punishment, a void that reminded him of everything he’d done to push her away.

He sat there, re-reading the note over and over, each word deepening the ache in his chest. His mind replayed the argument, every hurtful thing he’d said, and the look on her face when he’d called her by his ex’s name.

How could I have been so stupid? He ran a hand through his hair, the anguish in his chest tightening as he thought of her walking out, feeling like she had no choice but to leave him to clear her head. She deserved so much better…

He looked around, every corner of the apartment filled with memories of her laughter, her warmth. And now, it felt hollow, like the walls themselves were mourning her absence. Unable to sit still, he stood and paced, the weight of his own mistake pressing down on him.

"How did I let it get to this?" he asked himself, voice thick with self-reproach. She’s been nothing but supportive, and I repaid her with anger. I don’t deserve her forgiveness…I don’t even know if she’ll give it to me.

He stopped by the window, looking out at the city. Somewhere out there, Y/N was hurting, questioning everything they’d built. And he knew it was his fault. His stubborn pride, his inability to let her in, his habit of lashing out when he felt vulnerable—it had all led to this moment.

With a deep, shaky breath, he turned from the window, heading toward the door. He needed to clear his mind, to think about how to make things right. But the image of her walking out—of her packing her bags, her face streaked with tears—kept flashing in his mind.

As he stepped outside, he felt the sting of the cold air, but it didn’t ease the ache in his heart. He looked out over the city, a painful emptiness settling over him. He’d give anything to take it all back, to undo the damage he’d caused.

Please, Y/N, he thought, his heart aching with the silent plea. Please come back to me. But he knew that it would take more than words to earn her trust again. It would take everything he had to prove he was worth her forgiveness—if she ever gave him the chance.

---

Fernando found himself increasingly consumed by regret. Every memory of Y/N seemed like a stark reminder of the mistake he’d made, the pain he’d inflicted on her. Days passed with each one stretching longer than the last, the empty apartment a shell of what it had been with her in it. He left countless messages, each one a little more desperate than the last.

“Y/N…I know I hurt you. And I’m not asking you to forgive me overnight, but please…just let me know you’re okay.” His voice cracked in one message, the anguish evident in his words.

Her responses, when they came, were brief, polite, and guarded—keeping him at arm’s length in a way that hurt almost as much as the silence had.

“I'm fine, Fernando. Just busy with work.”

“Right, of course. But…are we okay? I just want to hear it from you…”

“Let’s talk when I’m back, okay?”

Every short reply felt like another wall between them, a reminder that she was still hurting and far from ready to forgive him. Fernando didn’t blame her; he knew he’d have to be patient. But it was hard, agonizingly so.

He threw himself into his training, hoping that the physical exhaustion would numb the relentless guilt. But even that wasn’t enough. The sleepless nights, the endless thoughts of Y/N, and the crushing weight of his actions left him feeling drained.

One afternoon, Carlos caught him alone in the paddock, noticing the dark circles under Fernando's eyes and the gaunt look that had taken over his usually vibrant face.

“Fernando,” Carlos said sternly, pulling him aside, “when was the last time you actually took care of yourself?”

Fernando shrugged, forcing a smirk. “I’m fine, Carlos.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Carlos replied sharply. “You look terrible, man. Everyone’s noticed. You need to get a grip before you make yourself sick.”

“I made a mess of things with Y/N, Carlos. It’s… it’s all I can think about,” Fernando admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And she’s still so far away. I’ve apologized a hundred times, but… nothing feels like enough.”

Carlos shook his head, looking exasperated. “You called her by your ex’s name. Do you even understand how hurt she must be? She trusted you, Fernando! You don’t get to brush that off with a few messages.”

Fernando closed his eyes, the guilt clawing at him even harder. “I know,” he murmured, voice trembling. “I know I don’t deserve her forgiveness. But Carlos…I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“Then start acting like it,” Carlos said, his tone unforgiving. “You can’t change what you did, but you can show her you’ll never make that mistake again.”

A few days later, Fernando was in the team garage when George Russell and Carmen happened to walk by. Carmen, who’d always been warm and friendly to him, gave him a sympathetic look but quickly turned stern.

“Fernando, have you talked to Y/N recently?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“She’s…abroad for work,” he answered, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Carmen shook her head, visibly disappointed. “If you really care about her, then show her, Fernando. She’s heartbroken, and all she needed was for you to be there for her. Instead, you hurt her when she was already struggling to support you.”

George placed a hand on Fernando’s shoulder. “Mate, I know things have been rough with the team, but that’s no excuse to hurt the person who’s always by your side. You need to make it right before it’s too late.”

Fernando swallowed hard, feeling his chest tighten as he absorbed their words. He could hardly argue with them; everything they were saying was the truth he didn’t want to face. They’re right. I’ve been selfish. I hurt her because I couldn’t handle my own issues.

Days continued to drag on, and Fernando’s health began to falter. The sleepless nights and relentless anxiety started to wear on him, his usually fit frame looking leaner and more frail. He was haunted by the image of her teary eyes, of her silent, pained expression before she’d shut herself away.

One evening, back at the apartment, Fernando felt the full weight of his actions settle onto him. The walls seemed to close in, the empty rooms echoing with memories of her laughter, her voice, her presence. A sudden wave of panic gripped him, the guilt and fear crashing over him like a tidal wave.

What if she never comes back? The thought stabbed through him, cutting deeper than anything he’d felt before.

His breathing grew shallow, and he clutched his chest, trying to force air into his lungs, but it was like his entire body was fighting him. He staggered, clutching the edge of the counter, vision blurring as he struggled to calm himself.

“Y/N…” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. He could almost see her face, feel her hand resting gently on his shoulder, grounding him. But it was just a cruel trick of his mind, and the reality of her absence hit harder than ever.

His knees buckled, and he sank to the floor, gasping for air, his heart racing uncontrollably. I can’t lose her. I can’t…

The world started to fade, his mind slipping into darkness as exhaustion finally took over, and he drifted into a fitful, troubled sleep right there on the cold floor.

---

Y/N’s heart raced as she read the headlines scrolling across her phone screen. Fernando Alonso unwell; concerns raised over health. Panic gripped her, sending a jolt through her entire body. She hadn’t been prepared for this; she’d known he was struggling, but to hear it from the outside world felt like a gut punch.

What happened? Is he okay? She quickly gathered her things, her modeling gig suddenly forgotten. There was only one thing that mattered now: getting back to him.

The flight home felt endless, each second ticking by as worry gnawed at her insides. She replayed their last argument over and over, the way he’d called her by his ex’s name, the look of frustration on his face. What if I was too harsh? What if he really needed me and I wasn’t there for him?

I need to be there for him now. I need to make it right.

When she finally stepped through the door of their apartment, the sight before her made her heart drop. The place was dimly lit, cluttered with remnants of his solitary life. Empty takeout containers littered the kitchen counter, and the living room looked like it hadn’t been touched in days. But what sent her racing was the faint sound of him coughing in the back room.

“Fernando!” she called out, fear tightening her throat as she rushed through the hallway. She burst into their bedroom to find him lying on the bed, pale and visibly weak, his body covered with a thin sheen of sweat.

“Y/N?” He squinted up at her, confusion and relief mixing in his eyes.

“Oh, amor,” she breathed, rushing to his side. “What happened? Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”

He shook his head slightly, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t want you to worry. I thought… it would pass.”

“Stop it,” she said firmly, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “You should’ve called me. You need me.” Her fingers brushed against his skin, the heat radiating from him unsettling her even more. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

Y/N quickly moved around the room, gathering supplies—blankets, water, and a few medications she hoped would help him. She set the pillows just right, adjusting them to support his head, feeling an overwhelming need to create a safe space for him.

“Y/N, really, I’m fine,” he murmured weakly, though the tremor in his voice contradicted his words.

“No, you’re not,” she replied, her heart aching at the sight of him. “You look terrible.”

Fernando offered a small smile, the kind that made her heart flutter, but it quickly faded. “I’m sorry for everything, for how I treated you…”

“Don’t. Right now, let’s focus on getting you better.” She poured him a glass of water, carefully lifting his head so he could drink. “I’m here, Fernando. I’m not going anywhere.”

After a few sips, he leaned back against the pillows, looking a little more relaxed but still so vulnerable. “You’re really here.”

“Of course, I am,” she reassured him, her voice softening. “I was worried sick. I don’t care how far away I was; I always want to be there for you. You’re my everything.”

He looked at her with gratitude shining in his tired eyes. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do,” she insisted, brushing her fingers along his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath them. “You’ve always been there for me, and I want to be here for you now. You just need to rest, okay?”

I can’t believe how weak he looks, Y/N thought, panic surging through her as she watched him close his eyes. What if he doesn’t get better? What if I lose him because I wasn’t there?

“Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay with me?”

“Always,” she replied immediately, crawling into bed beside him. She curled up next to him, feeling his warmth seep into her. “Just relax, cariño. I’m right here.”

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as his breathing began to steady. “I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice still weak but laced with affection.

“I missed you too,” she murmured, burying her face against his shoulder. “You have no idea how much. Just promise me you’ll let me take care of you from now on.”

“Promise,” he said softly, closing his eyes again. “I’m sorry for everything. For pushing you away… for everything.”

Y/N felt tears prick her eyes, a mix of relief and love swelling within her. “We’ll get through this together, I swear. Just let me love you the way you deserve, okay?”

He nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You have no idea how much I need that right now.”

As they lay together, the tension from before began to ease, replaced by a soothing warmth that enveloped them. For the first time in days, she felt hope creeping back in, even if it was just a flicker. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but as long as they had each other, she believed they could face anything.

----

A few days later, Fernando was back on his feet. He still moved a little slower, a little cautiously, but the spark in his eyes had returned. However, it didn’t take long before he noticed Y/N moving sluggishly around the apartment, her face pale, and her usual energy dimmed.

“Amor,” he murmured, catching her as she stumbled slightly in the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N gave a half-hearted smile, trying to wave it off. “I’m fine, really. Probably just tired from flying back so soon.”

He narrowed his eyes, feeling her forehead. “You’re warm. And you look exhausted.”

“Well, I did just take care of you around the clock,” she teased lightly, giving him a small, weak smile.

“That’s it,” he said firmly, gently steering her toward the couch. “You’re officially off duty.”

Y/N laughed but didn’t fight him, too tired to resist. She sat down, wrapping herself in the blanket he brought her as he hovered nearby, his expression filled with worry.

“Seriously, Fernando, I’m fine. Just a little tired,” she insisted.

“Oh no, don’t even try that on me,” he replied, shaking his head as he settled next to her. “I know exactly how this feels, and you’ve definitely caught whatever I had.”

Y/N sighed, closing her eyes. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Stay here,” he commanded softly, a warm smile crossing his face. “Doctor Alonso is on duty now.”

She gave him a skeptical look but relaxed into the couch, her eyelids fluttering shut as he went to the kitchen. Soon, he was back with a tray of tea, soup, and medicine. She opened one eye, watching as he set it all down, his brow creased with concentration.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make soup,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he chuckled. “I picked it up somewhere along the way. Or maybe I just have some natural talent you didn’t know about.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Alright, Mr. Multitalented. I’m impressed.”

He grinned, but his smile quickly softened into something more serious. “Y/N, about everything… I know I messed up. You shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of my frustrations.”

“Fernando…”

“No, let me say this,” he interrupted gently, reaching out to take her hand. “You were there for me through everything, even when I didn’t deserve it. I can’t believe I put my own issues onto you.”

Her gaze softened, and she squeezed his hand. “You were going through a lot, Fernando. I get it. But, yeah… it hurt.”

A shadow of regret passed over his face, and he moved closer, looking into her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. I promise I won’t let my issues with the team or anything else come between us again. From now on, you’re my priority.”

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “I just needed to hear that.”

He kissed her hand, looking at her earnestly. “You’re my everything, amor. And I’ll prove it to you every day if I have to.”

She laughed softly, despite herself. “Starting with the soup?”

“Exactly,” he grinned, placing the bowl in her hands. “I don’t make soup for just anyone, you know.”

“Special treatment,” she murmured, taking a small sip. “And here I thought I’d never see the day.”

He chuckled, settling beside her and tucking the blanket around her shoulders. “This is just the beginning. I’ve got a whole recovery plan for you.”

“Oh really?” she teased, snuggling into the blanket as he adjusted it.

“Absolutely. This recovery plan includes lots of soup, endless tea, and, of course…” He paused, flashing her a cheeky smile. “As many cuddles as you can handle.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Thank you for coming back to me,” he murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you for letting me,” she replied, her voice warm with affection.

They stayed that way, wrapped in each other’s arms, as he continued to whisper apologies and promises between gentle reassurances. For now, it was enough to be together, to know that they would face everything side by side.

---

The grandstands buzzed with energy as fans poured into the circuit, filling the air with an electric anticipation. It was a monumental day for Fernando—his 400th race. Cameras flashed, fans cheered, and the world celebrated this milestone with him. But as the day progressed, the weight of it all settled in a different way. It wasn’t just the years of racing, the trophies, or the fame. It was the realization of who had stood by him, through every twist and turn, every high and low. And there she was, watching him from the edge of the paddock with that warm smile that always calmed him.

When he finally had a free moment, he pulled her into one of the quieter corners of the team lounge, away from the flashing lights and the hustle around them.

“Y/N…” he began, taking her hands in his, his thumbs brushing gently over her knuckles. His voice softened, the usual edge in it replaced with something deeper, something raw. “I know today is all about my racing, my 400th, but I don’t want it to pass without telling you something.”

She tilted her head, curiosity shining in her eyes. “What is it, Fernando?”

He took a breath, collecting his thoughts. “I’ve had so many people supporting me over the years, but no one—not a single person—has been there for me like you have. I mean… I’ve never been an easy person to be with. I’m… difficult,” he admitted with a small, self-conscious laugh. “But you… you’ve handled every bit of it with so much patience, so much love.”

Her eyes softened, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I told you, Fernando. I’m here for you, no matter what. I always have been.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “But I didn’t realize what that really meant until this year. I’ve taken so much out on you, especially when things got hard with the team. And somehow, you stayed.”

“Of course, I did,” she whispered, her voice a mix of reassurance and affection. “I knew who you were from the beginning, and I chose to be by your side. I wouldn’t change that for anything.”

Fernando swallowed, feeling his throat tighten. He glanced down, a faint smile appearing on his face as he collected himself. “You’re so much stronger than me, you know that?” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I might be the one driving out there, but you’re the one who keeps me going. You’re my strength, Y/N.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down for a moment, visibly touched by his words. “You’re going to make me cry,” she teased, her voice thick with emotion.

He reached up, gently lifting her chin so their eyes met again. “I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t even want to think about it.” He paused, gathering his thoughts as he tried to put everything he felt into words. “You’re my everything. You make all of this worth it, the good times, the bad times. Every single lap, every race… knowing you’re there for me makes it all feel complete.”

“Fernando…” she whispered, her voice wavering as tears pricked her eyes.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Thank you for being here, for being you. For seeing the best in me even when I’m at my worst.” He held her close, his hand gently cradling the back of her head. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder as she took in his words. “I love you, Fernando. And I’m so proud of you—of everything you’ve achieved, and the person you are. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

He leaned back slightly, his eyes glistening as he looked down at her. “I’m proud too, you know. Not just of this career, but of the fact that you’re here with me, sharing this moment. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”

Y/N smiled, reaching up to gently cup his cheek. “Just keep being you. That’s all I need.”

He laughed softly, leaning into her touch. “Deal. And for the record, I’ll try my best to keep my temper in check.”

“Good,” she chuckled. “I’ll be right here to remind you if you forget.”

He smiled, bending down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I know you will, cariño. And that’s exactly how I want it to be.”

In that quiet moment, with the noise of the race buzzing around them, they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, two people who’d weathered storms together and come out stronger. Fernando knew that this race—this milestone—was only the beginning, and he couldn’t wait to keep going, with her by his side every step of the way.

[theseventhdimension]

okay okay, but imagine Tech analyst reader who frequently helps out or takes over for Garcia. The team technically knows they do that but sometimes they forget so imagine Derek calling the tech cave and reader answering just hearing “What’s up baby girl?” and reader just being like “Excuse me?!” because he’s definitely not at that level of comfortable with Derek and also not exactly a girl

also, congrats on getting married!

404: Garcia Not Found..

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Male! Reader

Word count: 1.3k+

DNI: Fem-aligned

Author's note: Arghhh this is a really nice idea, and i'm always looking to write more stuff for Morgan but I'm absolutely hopeless at coming up with ideas for him.

Thanks so much for the congrats! Everything went perfectly, except for the fact someone brought their kid despite being specifically told not to. As always, all feedback is appreciated. Hope you enjoy!! (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

By noon, the heat had evolved sentience and declared itself sheriff. The Nevada heat clung to everything like regret—sticky, unrelenting, and just a little personal.

Two murders in three days. Both victims were hitchhikers, both picked up near the I-80, both found stripped of ID, with matching bruises around their wrists and necks—suggesting a clear dominant/submissive dynamic between the killers.

The locals were out of their depth. Hotch was in an interview. JJ and Rossi were talking to truck stop staff. And Morgan?

Morgan needed tech backup. Now.

He stabbed the call button on the secure laptop connection, barely watching the screen flicker as the signal went through to Quantico.

Ring. Ring. Click.

“What’s up, baby girl?” Morgan said automatically, leaning one hip on the desk. His voice was smooth, familiar—pure muscle memory. “We’re out here baking in the sun with two vics in the morgue, and I need you to work your magic. See if you can pull anything from highway cams near the last truck stop they were seen at—mile marker 178. Also, if there's any pattern to the direction the victims were headed, maybe someone’s choosing their targets based on where they’re trying to go. Could mean the unsubs are mobile. I’m thinking truckers, maybe a couple? Something about the crime scenes says shared space. The bindings were too clean. It’s coordinated. Might be a dominant-submissive thing. Maybe sexual, maybe just control—either way, it’s intimate and practiced.”

He paused just long enough to breathe.

“You still with me, baby girl?”

A beat.

The voice on the other end was not high-pitched, not glittery, and absolutely not Penelope Garcia.

Then—

“…Excuse me?”

It was deep. Masculine. Smooth in that ‘voice actor for luxury car commercials’ kind of way, and currently laced with dry confusion and more than a little judgment.

Morgan blinked. “Wait—what?”

“It’s me. Not Garcia,” you said flatly, already typing away like this happened more often than it should. “You know—the other tech analyst? The one who’s been covering for her while she’s off presenting at that FBI coding retreat in Maryland? The guy who’s been patching your signals and processing your half-sent field requests all week?”

Morgan sat up straighter, suddenly aware of how much talking he’d done. “Oh. Oh, damn.”

“Yeah. That’s the correct response,” you said, amusement starting to creep into your voice. “You just called a grown-ass man ‘baby girl,’ listed four crimes, and didn’t even pause for breath. Honestly, I’m flattered. But also—deeply concerned.”

Morgan rubbed his forehead, suddenly feeling every degree of the desert heat. “I didn’t check the name—I just hit the line. It’s usually Garcia.”

“Yeah, well, today it’s me,” you said, matter-of-fact, fingers flying over your keys. “And for future reference? Maybe wait for the voice to talk before you start handing out nicknames like candy.”

Across the makeshift office, Reid coughed pointedly into his elbow, and Prentiss didn’t even pretend she wasn’t listening.

Morgan groaned, quietly and with soul. “She’s gonna hear about this, isn’t she?”

“Oh,” you said with a smirk he could feel through the phone. “She’s gonna make a slideshow.”

Two days after wrapping the Nevada case, you were elbows-deep in corrupted metadata, muttering darkly at your monitor like it had personally insulted your family line.

Your desk looked like a warzone: a battlefield of empty energy drink cans, half-eaten protein bars, and one worn notebook full of scribbled access codes and passive-aggressive post-its to yourself.

The door creaked open.

You didn’t look up.

"..You’re not Garcia," you grunted. "So unless you’ve got a sandwich, an apology, or the exact GPS coordinates of an unsub’s burner phone, I’m not interested."

There was a pause—then a familiar throat-clear.

"...Actually, I’ve got two outta three."

You looked up.

Derek Morgan stood in the doorway like a man approaching a trap he helped build. In his hands, a cardboard tray of two iced coffees—the sides slick with condensation—and a paper bag radiating "guilt muffin" energy.

One cup had your exact order written neatly across the lid.

The other just said: BRIBE.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed but entertained. "This your version of groveling?"

"It’s a start," he said, stepping inside like the floor might reject him. "Also brought a blueberry muffin. I hear your kind can be appeased with carbs."

"...Garcia?"

"She may or may not have emailed me a PowerPoint titled ‘How to Apologize to the Other Hot Nerd.’"

You squinted. "Other hot nerd?"

"She wrote it. Not me."

You leaned back and crossed your arms. "So let me get this straight. You call a grown man ‘baby girl’ in the middle of a double homicide case, ignore three emails about the tech rotation, and now you think caffeine and a muffin are gonna fix it?"

"...Yes?"

A beat.

You reached for the coffee and inspected the lid.

"I will accept this tribute," you said, taking a long sip. "Only because you spelled my name right. That’s rare."

Morgan exhaled. "Good. I was afraid I’d have to beg."

"Oh, don’t worry," you said, licking some foam from your lip. "I haven’t decided not to make you change your ringtone to ‘Oops I Did It Again.’"

He blinked. "As in... Britney?"

"You called me baby girl, Morgan. We’re past embarrassment. We’re in consequences now."

You turned back to your monitors. Morgan hovered nearby, unsure whether to sit or evaporate.

Then, with the faintest grin, he said, "For the record... your voice threw me off. I expected Garcia’s sparkle and jazz hands, and I got Morgan Freeman after two Red Bulls and a week without sleep."

You smirked. "Damn right. Now sit down if you wanna watch me reroute a VPN signal through six countries in under ten seconds."

He did.

Somehow, between the quiet clicks of the keyboard and the occasional slurp of coffee, the awkward began to smooth into something easier. Familiar. Not quite friendship, not quite anything else—but a start.

Almost.

Until you muttered, "Also... I am keeping the BRIBE cup. For legal leverage."

"Noted."

Just then, the sliding glass door to the tech office cracked open with the softest of squeaks.

Garcia peeked in—just her head at first, curls bobbing, glasses slightly askew. Her eyes scanned the room like a hawk on a sugar rush, pupils dilating the second they landed on the scene.

Morgan, sitting casually at the edge of your desk, coffee in hand, looking far too pleased with himself.

You, leaned back with his cup labeled “BRIBE,” one leg hooked under the other, sipping coolly mid-keystroke like this was just another Tuesday.

She froze.

Her eyes widened—comic book style, full saucers. Her mouth parted slightly, as if to gasp, but no sound came out.

She squealed—silently, violently, like her entire body had been possessed by the spirit of a thousand fangirls trying to behave in a museum. Shoulders shaking, hands clenched in excitement, every cell of her being vibrating at a frequency only dolphins could hear.

And then—

She turned on her heel and sprinted out of the room.

Just full cartoon physics. Gone.

You didn’t even blink. “She’s gonna turn this into a PowerPoint, isn’t she?”

Morgan sighed into his coffee. “She already has one.”

[lilsocksiswriting]

You are secretly an OF creator and your best friend's older brother is one of your top fans.

Note: no beta, and I'm dyslexic sooooo  

Yuji: Yeah that’s fine! My brother is home . he can let ya in!

That was right. Yuji was a twin. That’s what people say right? The Itadori twins.  But you’ve never seen Sukuna around campus? Mabey he went to trade school or chose to not do the whole grad school thing.  Yuji talks about how he’s a good cook so mabey that’s what he does?

The man who answers the door can in no way be Yuji’s twin. 

He’s fucking massive!

Sukuna is a good two heads taller than you, hell mabey three since you were wearing platforms today.   And he is covered in tattoos. Thick black bands circle his upper arm and wrist. Shap lies that frame his face.  He’s giving major bad guy vibes with the glare like your soem nuisances benight him and that eye patch.  Really the only thing tha this man and Yuji have in common is their short pink hair. 

“U-umm hello, hi,” you give a small wave. “I’m here for a study sesh, Yuji said he was on his way  but he said his brother was here…?”

The man does look any less pissed at your mere existence. After a long, tense moment, he finally moves. Hsi hulking figure steps to the side to allow you in. Your back is still stiff straight as you walk past him, then toe off your platforms.  You feel his eye boring into the back of your head and it makes  you dizzy with worrisome thoughts 

This was the first time anyone had invited you over somewhere.  So you did dress up a littel more than unusual.   You just were so excited. Yuji and hsi friends were so cool and nice, and not judgemental.   And  They all have this thing that makes you unmask without even realizing it!

“Make yourself at home,” is all this ‘older brother’ has to say. 

Then he just stalks off to soem other part of the house.

You blink. You may not quite get social norms, but that definitely wasn’t normal. 

You shyly venture into the house. It was a lovely house. Old and lived-in. high wooden ceilings and a modern-looking kitchen. It smells like coves and other cooking spices. The living room was pretty big.  Though the house was old, it was deftly a rich person’s house. You forget that Yuji’s technically a rich kid.  He is not as snobby and disconnected. Same with Megumi and his cousin Maki. 

The carpet feels soft under your socked feet. There is a huge flat screen, two plush couches, a love seat, a glass coffee table- 

“A fireplace!” you softly gasp.

You wonder if they use it.   It was freezing, and spring was still a few months away. You wonder if they use it to cook stew. Just set up a big cauldron and add brother and veggie and meat.  Oh, that sounds so nice! A big pot of stew.  Ofr tucked yourself under a blank with a journal or a book. Some hot chocolate, mabey.  You hope you found a place with one soem dat. The dorms you lived in with Nobara and Maki were….well, not ideal. But the girls were way better than your roommates in undergrad. 

“What are you doing?”

You jump, like literally jump. You feel your feet leave the ground at the familiar deep voice. 

Sukuan stands there bracing both hands braced over the bacl of one of the couches, just staring at you impassively.  How long has he been there? When did he get ther? You figure a man that size would make noise when he walks around. It’s at that time your brain is like,  hey, look at that.  The tight black shirt trains against his muscles. Was that one of those compressions short? You’ve only seen them worn by more leaner people.

“Speak,” he commands. 

“I just like fireplaces! there, um, like a vibe.”

“A vibe?”

“Yes?”

“Now you not sure?”

“No?”

The sound keys unlock the front door and save you from the hellish embarrassment.  You feel a breath leave your chest.

“We’re home!” Yujin yells 

“With pizza!” Nobara adds. 

This seems to draw Sukuna’s attention off you as he turns and asks,” What did you brats get?“

It wasn't until the first of you were sitting in the living room, Sukuan somewhere else in the house that you asked Yuji,” Hey is he your twin?”

“Hmm, oh well, he's not acutely my twin. He's my older brother.  Same brother day, different year.”

“Ohhhh,” 

“Yeah,” You laugh,” we just got tired of correcting people at some point. “

“He’s like super scary right?”

You quickly at Nobara.

“Once he warms up to you he’ll be less scar, promise.”

You feel the warmth seep into your chest and Nobabra’s off-handed comment.  You try to hide your smile with another bit of pizza. The three might not quite get it, but just the noting that they are paned to keep you around as a friend made you do one of your small happy stims. 

Once the pizza was devoured, your four then got to work on class work. You and Nobara took an art criticism class together this semester, but the professor was a trip and not the fun kind. Megumi was in Law school while Yuji was getting his Master’s in sports science. The two had majors that were so different from you and Nobara���s. You both were going from M.F.A’s (your writing and Nobara Fashion). The one thing all you had in common was the insane amount of coursework you had. 

You were in your second semester and you still were not use to the course load.  But you did love it. You wish you could take all the classes that the graduate program had to offer. 

You are sitting tucked into one corner of the couch with your iPad, tackling reading. Yuji had shared the wifi with you so you could download them from BalckBoard. But you could also check in to see if King Of Cursing….

Your fingers swipe over to your web app before you know it. It was muscle memory at this time. You onlyfans would be a year old this coming March and it  King had been since your first stream.

KingOfCursing: you got to stop teasing Star, I don’t know if I can wait till your stream tonight.

Me: heheheh, you can last a littel longer. If you haven’t come, your pants already.

KingOfCursing: I almost did but got interrupted. 

Me: mmmm, good. See you tonight. Oh, and here’s a snake peak. 

You send a pic of you on the new bralette and panties you got, a deep red color, King’s favorite.  It was somehtgn you took last night to send to a few of your top tippers and to save in the vault for later. Like all the rest of your photos, videos, and streams, your head is kept out of it. 

You swipe back to your reading and just in time too because you hear Sukuna calling out from the kitchen, “I’m going for a run!”

“Don’t freeze!” Yuji calls back without looking up from hsi textbook. 

“I know right,” Megumi says to you. 

You close your mouth, not realizing the choked and disgusted face you made. You did exercise, too, but in the warmth of the small gym on the first floor of your dormitory or some stretched in your bedroom. 

“He needs to stay in shape for his all the thirst traps he posts.”

“But it’s cold. It's like 30 out. What doe she do if it rains?”

Yuji shrugs like rain and wet socks are no big deal.

“He wears a raincoat.”

“But his socks would get wet.”

“I don't think he cares.”

You put a hand on your chest like your mother would do,” Your brother is a  psychopath.”

Nobrab bursts out laughing and you blink in confusion then surprise. Still not used to people thinking you're funny and not weird.  It’s nice. It makes you feel comfy and even confident. You don't have to pretend to be funny or happy because you genuinely are those things. 

You carry the lightness with you all the way home and as you lock the door to your room and get ready for your bed.  Your stream doesn't happen till around 3 AM. It’s pretty late for one, but one would be supported by how many people are weak and horny at that hour.  It was one of the main reasons you began Onlyfans.  You’ve always had trouble sleeping through the night. It was only when you found out that a lot of autistic peoel have the same trouble you stopped trying to force yourself back to sleep. 

Besides people used to wake up in the middle of the night all the time before capitalism and alarm clocks. And after a few hours of working on your Onlyfans, you usually went right back to bed.

The other reason was that you did not want to move back to your parents after graduation.  It was also nice to be able to afford a nice steak and fresh veggies. You go through your nighttime routine of a hot shower,  motioning up your skin, getting in your pajamas, and then wishing everyone a good night as you fill your water bottle. 

You wake up just before three o'clock with an excited smile. You quickly and quietly get out of bed and make it up all cute since it was the blurred background and strip.  You turn off some Lofi to dampen your voice, not that anyone would hear you any way you’ve subtlety confirmed that one of your roommates heard anything but the soft music you play. 

The second you go live, people start flooding in. You say hello and reply to comments, giving everyone time to log on and get comfy.  Your tagline for your stream was ‘Come in settled down, grab your favorite drink and toy, and let me spin you a tale.’

Those stories could range from actual stories, dialogues,  or your own fantasies, all of which are written in a journal. You keep a special pillow under the bed up, yup, dorm, hidden before soem boxes( the rest of your camera and mic are stored in your closet) It was frim, felt, and matched the color palette of your set up. The pillow fits perfectly between your thighs and the best part? You could attach dildos and vibrators to it. 

You see the moment King’s name pops up and your eyes light up. 

“Evening, King, or good morning, or good day. We are bout to begin in a few minutes. People are still trickling in,” you say a voice that is a tad different than your normal pitch and way more confident with a screen between you and all these peoel.

You giggle at his reply, “Oh come now, you can wait a few more minutes won't kill you.”

KingOfCursing: it might, my cock’s been killing me, pretty Star.  Need you to get me off so fucking bad.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and type out a quick profit measure to KIng.

Me: I’d love to see the mess you make for me.

You then turn your attention back to the stream,” Ok everyone ready?”

Yes’s and please's fill the chat making you giggle. Your fans were always so eager. 

You launch into the story you had prepared, and your journal is lying open beside you to reference.  This one was a fantasy. You ideally play with the dildo as you begin to set the scene in a secluded corner of a library, two stem majors are staying there late, but not to study. Like yes, they have that bif chemistry final, but they also haven’t gotten off in weeks.  Do you know how distracting that can be? To be constantly horny and never have the time to get yourself off?

So, of course, they fuck. They need to get it out of their systems. As you describe, the woman crawls on top ot the man and fists his hard cock, smearing precum down hsi shift; you mimic the action by spreading lube over the toy.

You also pay attention to the chat.  the tips coming in, people reminiscing g of their college days, how they too wanted to fuck in a library, or that yes, that was their last semester.

KingOfCursing: shit, you know what your doign with that toy. 

KingOfCursing: Bet this is a fantasy of your’s to your bibliophile.

Ron: please, please, please, baby need to see those gorgeous tits.

WetAndInDebt: I could listen to your voice forever 

Susy: red looks amazing on you, but now that we’ve seen take it off. 

“Patience, I’m getting there.”

You go on to tell how the two get so lost in the euphoria of touching, licking, and kissing each other that they no longer care if they get caught. They need this.   As you do, you strip off your bra in a rush. Then what you know will  bring in the most tips as  you speak  in a breathless voice about how the woman didn’t even  want to get up, she needed to keep touching him, keep pleasuring the man’s dick, keep hearing those beautiful sounds this body was making for her that-

Riiip

The panties were already an old pair, they had a small hole on the hip, right under the waistline. No one on stream could see it and it made for the perfect thing to hook your finger into and tear your pants off, and you shuffle your hips forward.

sinking yourself down onto the toy you glance over at the chat. Yup, tips are pouring in. People are going crazy, but you only keep an eye out for what King is saying. 

KingOfCursing:shitshitshit, I can’t take this Star.  Drivgn me fuckign mad. Almost came right then and ther. Dicks so hard and swollen. 

You roll your hips and mao as you go on. You tell the stream how frantic and feel the two were. You mimic the way she rides the man’s cock with your toy, moaning and whining as she does.  Not even caring for the tattered remains of your panties still around your hips. 

The mix of the story comes when you, well, when you and the characters of your story  cum. As you come down from your high, giggling softly and wrapping up the story, you find yourself searching for King’s messages in chat.

Ron: oh that was wonderful sweetie

DD_Don: another great steam.

Fireredandfirehot: You ride that dildo like a champ.

112_you: so fucking hot. 

Nothing but a big fat tip from King. That was ok. He’d definitely reply to your private message. 

You end the stream and quietly get cleaned up, then slip back into bed. Seriously, a good orgasm beats your sleeping meds sometimes. 

Beofer, you doze off until the next alarm you check your privet messages, and sure enough, King did reply. The pic was definitely going to be put in your spank bank for later. A heavy-looking spent diick being helped by a cum cover hand

---

Ok so Sukuan was warming up to you, but you kind wich he didn’t.  When he was this cold and scary-looking guy that loomed over you you didnt get butterflies at the slightest hint of a smile.

It's been a few weeks since you first met Yuji’s not actually twin. He still acted like you were a nuisance, but he acted that way with Nobara and Megumi too.  But ther was, like, this warmth with his grumpiness and jabs. Ok, so sometimes the jabs hurt, and you never say anything beiacse you don't wanan make anything awkward. You also don't think Sukuan realizes your austisics. Either that he just really likes to give you a hard time.  It's hard to tell when people are messing with you.

Like now, Sukuan leaned against the doorway, not even bothered by the cold bite of the morning air.  He’s in a loose tee shirt and sweats. You don’t know the color, too afraid to glance down. He also had hsi eye patch on. You wonder if he sleeps in it. The front door is wide open but his body is blocking the way. He also hasn’t invited you in. Just stand there smirking down at your shivery form.

“Are you some kind of vampire?” he questions.

Ok, he was deftly fucking with you and you did not like ot one bit. You don’t even have coffee yet. 

“No, your it the way.”

“You could just push me,” he shrugs. 

“Bro, I am a 23-year-old grad student. I do not have any muscle mass. It’s like a twig at an oak tree. “

He humms, taking his sweet time thinking it over,” Yeah, that seems accurate.”

“Can I please come in?”

“Oh beggin' now?”

“Dude stop being mean!” you hear Yuji call frm further inside the house. 

Sukaun’s face falls and he mutters, “Kill joy.”

He moves aside, and you scuttle in, tossing off your sneakers and winter coat.

The gang was getting together for pancakes this morning. The cafe on Camus has pancakes, yeah but they are not actually pancakes. Seriously for as much as you pay in tuition, the least they can do is get actual pancake mox. Whatever the cafe served was not pancakes. 

Pancakes were meant to be warm and fluffy like the stack already sitting in the kitchen bar. Megumi was already there nursing a mug of coffee while Yuji was slicing up a few pieces of cantaloupe. 

“Morning,” you chirp.

Megumi only grunts. 

“He’s still coming too,” Yuji tells you.

“I get it. “

You glace arousn, but Sukna is nowhere to be seen. The menacing was lurking somewhere, though.  You’ve learned that whenever he leaves the house, he announces it. Loudly. 

You want to dig in so bad; they look so good, and Yuji even made you coffee from Sukuan’s fancy coffee maker.  But you are so scared to seem rude that you wait. Nobara is the last to arrive sleepy-eyed but ready for the day. You are too, but you don’t have class until later in the evening. 

Megumi’s also becoming more awake. He holds a small conversation with you and the food is set out on eh bar and you all begin to make your plates. 

You get your small stack of pancakes and soem fruit. Smother it all in syrup The pancakes are perfect, warm, sweet, and fluffy, the stuff dreams are made of. You melt into the taste so much that you don't notice the happy stim you do. 

Sukian does so. It was the same thing you did while checking out the fireplace the first time you were here.  He has seen it a few times since then. But never this close. You don’t even realize that he is behind you as you chow down. 

So when he asks, “Why do you do that?” you nearly jump out of your skin. 

“Jesus, why doesn't Yuji give you a bell or something?”

“Where would the fun be in that?”  Sukuan crossed his arms over his broad chest waiting for your answer. 

“And well…it's just one of my stims.”

Sukuna glances at hsi brother, and the two seem to have soem sort of silent conversation. Before his eye looks back down to you. In hsi eye, you remind him of a chipmunk. Cheeks full of Pankckaes as you chew, then swallow it all down with a swig of coffee. You are not looking at him but rather at whatever is behind his shoulder.  Are you scared, unbothered? Can't be that scared if you want to put a collar on him like some pet or scarf down the food he paid for. 

“Is it a good thing?”

“Dude,” you hear Yuji stresses in a hushed voice. 

“Y-yea, it’s a, uh, happy stim. I do it when I’m happy.”

You keep looking up at the man; your body now turns a little to face him further. Sukuna appraises you for a moment longer before humming.

What does that mean? And what does he do that makes his arms so fucking thick?

“I’ll be home late tonight, clean up the kitchen, or you dead punk,” is all the goodbye Sukuan Gives his younger brother before heading out. ‘

 After the sound of the door to the garage closes Yujoi says, “Sorry about him. “

“Sorry for what?” you ask.  Did you miss something?

“The questions. Sukuana’s….”Yuji trails off.

Megumi isn’t afraid to say it,” Stuck up his own ass to the sighs of neudovergcy.”

“Yeah, “ Nobara agrees, “Back in high school, we were surprised that the big brute could read.  If just seemed to beneath him.”

“Speaking of being big, what does he do? He’s just. There's just so much muscle there?”

“Oh, he’ stunt coordinator.  Like from TV shows and stuff when that  fighting scenes.”

“oh, that’s actually pretty cool.”

“He taught me and Maki how to use a switchblade!” Nobara says proudly. 

“Like all those swoosh swoosh motions?” you ask motioning your hand the way you see people on TV flick out the weapon with ease.

Nobara nods. 

“Oh, that’s sick.”

For the rest of breakfast, the four of you make easy conversation like any other time. Only this time, you can't stop thinking of Sukuan flipping out a switchblade like it was second nature. The shape bade moved between his fingers. And that means the sort of smirk he gives you when he is the Itadoir sibling to greet you at the front door. 

Welp this is going down a dangerous road and I can’t stop it. 

For the rest of the day, then the week,  all your horny littel mind can seem to think of is Sukuna.  Sukuan and hsi big arams. Sukuan holding you. Him keeping your hands warm. Him being able to pin both your hands above your head by your wrists. He is so much bigger than you that when he mounts you from behind his whole body will cover yours. Him fucking you in a full nelson. 

It did not help that you also stalked his Instagram and ho boy. Wow.  With his follower count, he was basically an influencer. His feed was mostly him doing stunts, food, set pics, being tagged with famous actors at fancy-looking events or in a training room filled with mats, and soem videos of self-defense moves. 

You tell yourslef that this is fine. You think your best friend’s older brother is like realy super hot, and your horny little mind loves that shit. It won’t turn into anything. Just thirsting which you can then turn into content. The whole best friend’s older brother thing is hot on paper but is probably like wayyyy messy in real life.

So, by the time your next stream rolls, you have a penalty of content to work with. And that’s just a week's worth of daydreaming abotu Sukuna.

You check the camera once more.  You think the shot of your legs curled d against you just, with just s sliver of a peak of your bare pussy looks perfect. You still have soem time before the stream is due to start, so you check your messages. You reply to a few peoel before getting to King’s message. 

Me:  just some fantasizing, best friend's older brother stuff

KingOfCursing: oh fuck yes, Star. live ti when we have the same dirty thoughts.

Me: Oh? Which sibling would you be?

KIngOfCursing: The older brother, of course, dummy.

Me: Thought so. And just what about this kind of fan stays turns you on?

KingOfCruses: planning to use it in the stream tonight?

Me: maybe ;0

KingofCursing: mmm, well, in that case.   It’s definitely the sneaking around. Plowign her in my room with her, my brother, and the rest of her friends downstairs.   Mabey a bit of power play, too. I’m a bigger guy and I love it when my women aren't built like a stick. They can handle me getting a little rough. Leaving soem bruises and hickeys I get to watch them frantically hide. 

Me: oh you’ve given th a lot of thought.

You check the clock and see it’s time to go live. 

“Hello everyone! ugh, I've been waiting all day to spill this to everyone!  I've had that whole my best friend's  older brother in my mind a lot lately~”

You spread your legs and trial your hand down to the head already between your legs. 

Ronnie: Oh shit she’s already wet.

Softthighsxxx9090: mmmm, as an older bro I can def say that fantasy goes both ways.

“That’s really reassuring gn to hear soft thighs. Seriously I can see how it can be a littel hot because there’s, like, this tabooness to it ya know?”

WetAndInDebt: oh we know girl.

Fredd_W: We love a rule breaker.

“I think about a pool party or a barbeque. Really to get me in a  tiny Bikini really. I’d make up soem excuse to slip inside for a bit and the older brother would come in a littel bit after me. My friend's being none the wiser. “

Your fingers dip between your folds and spread them apart for the stream to see how wet the fantasy already has you. 

KingOfCursing: Shit Star. You look so fucking pretty soaked like that.

Ron: damnnnnnn

DoItDoggy: shitshitshit, I almost came. 

You giggle as the tips pop up,  the nighest being King. 

“I got really worked up his week but wanted to be abel to put on a good show for you all. Anyway, where was I? Oh. yes,  The older bro would pin against the nearest wall and rip my top down little my tits plop out.”, you spill the dirty thoughts you have been keeping hidden away in your journal as a hand comes up to fondle one of your brests. Your fingers have always begun to slip and play with the wet mess between your folds.

“All he’d have to do to get ot my needy cunt and stuff full of his fat  cock or even his fingers. It’s so hard to sneak around when you think about it. We haven't gotten to touch each other or barely kissed in days. It’d make me so needy.

KingOfCursing: Oh, how cute and pathetic. Getting so fucking needy and desperate like that.

420galpal: oh i fuckign love me  despte girl

Bento_K: I could watch her play with that pussy for days.

You moan reading over King’s comment. He always knows just what to type so sounds like he is both praising and degrading you. Something that never to make you a tinge of pleasure run through your core.

“ All he would have to do is hike a leg over his hip and  pull my bottom aside and then… just…”Your voice tappers off into another mon and you pus to fingers inside yourself.

Fread_W: Oh that’s a money shot. 

Ron: Only if you waxed baby, that’s send daddy over the moon.

KingOfCurisng: Fuck you are so perfect Star. 

You let out a slow breath then continue as you fuck yourself with your fingers.  And pinch a pebbled nipple between your fingertips. 

“B-but I’d be having suc a hard time staying quiet. His cock would just feel so good inside me.  And trust me he would try to tell me to be quiet, maybe even get a littel annoyed with me. He’d end up shoving fingers in my mouth, not realy gagging me, but effectively shutting me up and making it impossible to close my mouth.”

Your hips give a littel buck, pleasure building as you county playing out the fantasy in your head. The chat is loving it. 

“Yeah, so I’d definitely start to droll at some point as he plows into me. I’d like to think I’m not the only one who would be just as needy. The older brother wouldn't even be abel to get home off. After getting a taste of my cunt  his hands just won’t do it anymore. H-he’s gotta have his cock buried in my cunt to get off. 

KIngOfCursing: Fuck Star that’s the stuff my dreams are made of

“And I’d be such a lewd sight to see. My hands grasping at his ass to keep him close to me, drool dribbling down my chin- oh fuck I’m getting close.  One tit squished in his hand and the other bounced along wit his thrust.”

The chat was going crazy with your release so close. But you keep looking for King’s name.

“C-can you just imagine, “ you say, “Him snapping his hips forward with such a force it literally knocks the breath outta me? fuuuuuck , hearing him grunt in my ear as he felt me with shi hot seed-Yesyes, of fuck I’m cumming~”

You crane your head back and spread your legs further apart to give the stream the perfect view of your cunt squeezing around your fingers. 

The orgasm leaves you breathless and that tal tlae floaty feeling a good orgasm leaves you with. It was wild you make a living off of this. I make a goofy smile spread across your face. You bit th tinder of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling.

JayJay:  aww that's the good shit

Ron: so hot

KingOfCursing:  please don't stop talking. 

HaloSolider_334: Well I just made q mess in my boxers, wanna see baby?

For the rest of the stream, you continue to play with yourself as you tell your viewers more fantasies.  Like sitting on the other side of the couch and sexting, or sneaking into his room just to suck him off in the morning before anyone else was awake.

As you are cleaning up you get a message frm King

KIngofCursing: shit Sary to nights stream was a dream.

Me: I hope a wet dream.

KingOfCurses: oh my boxers got pretty wet.

You giggle.  A few others have messaged you but those can wait until tomorrow to be replied to. You spend the next hour or so talking to Kng instead of going back to sleep.

---

You find it hard to regret your decision to stay up and chat with KIng. it was not the first time you’ve done this and it probably won’t be the last. He just words things in a way that makes your stomach do a littel flip. 

 By the time 6 AM rolls around you find it useless to go to bed when you have that damn 8 AM. You roll out of bed and begin to get ready for the long day ahead. You were deftly getting take out as a reward fro staying away. And a large coffee on your way to class.  

You still arrive early and a littel cold. You were happy to have soem time to yourself before students stay to trickle into the classroom. You take a seat by the window.  Your class was on the top floor of the media and broadcasting board so it had a nice view of the university lawn. 

You hear someone else come in but don’t pay them any mind until they sit next to you. 

“Hey, Y/N right?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yea I 've seen you hang around Yuji and his friends before and though I recognized you.”

You do not recognize the women. You know she is in this class but that's it. And she looks like you could pick her out of a crowd. Her blond hair is pulled packed in these perfect high pigtails, a choker with soem old look jewel, board looking, sharp eyes. They are staring at you like you're supposed to know her. 

“Right….i’m Momo.”

“Oh, ok. “

Your mind was racing. The one-on-one conversation was not your strong suit and you are trying not to panic. Trying to act normal. 

“Right so,” she trails soem of  her silk hair between her fingers, “ I was actually wondering if I could come to hang with you all sometime.”

Huh? 

She takes your slice not as confused but continues on, “Yeah we were, like, friends in high school  and I want to reconnect ya know.”

“umm, ok” No not ok why was she telling you this? What did you say back? You just wanted to sip your coffee and be a littel nonverbal before class. 

She smiles,” Great thanks so much!”

Then she just gets up and takes another seat at the front of the class. What the hell was that?

---

You get somewhat of an answer that evening. It was the one day of the night that the four of you could have dinner together which typically meant gathering at Yuji’s for take of soem kind.  You are all gathered around a pizza box that sits on the Kitchen islands when you bring up you encounter with Momo.

“her, oh, well we never really hung out in the saem crowds…”  Yuji trails off recalling their high school years. 

“She  ran with the  rich kid crowd is why.”

“Aren't you and Megumi like rich?”, You point your half-eaten slice to Yju and then Megumi.

“Our families are rich,” Megumi corrects you, since Yuji’s cheeks are stuffed with pizza

If you like this whip, i have plenty more over on my Patreon!

[losergames]

Chop Shop is strictly 18+ for language, themes, and potential explicit content. 

🔗 - Game Intro | Bug Report | Ko-Fi

Episode Three is now available! (+ 86,000) - PLAY HERE

Get your first taste of the underground car scene.

Meet some other players in the game.

Be made an offer.

5 achievements up for grabs!

And more!

AN: thank you so much for the patience - i've been dying to put this update out. lots of new characters and lots of variation!! there are 3 major paths to choose between in this ep, i recommend trying them all out! and thank you to my betas for keeping me sane lmao

This update comes with a patch and UI refresh (Version 1.1.2) Notes are under the cut. If preferred, you can access them in game in the start menu.

STORY

EPISODE 01:

MC should now be able to smoke! Buying cigarettes at the shop was not triggering correctly. If playing with an old save, you DO NOT have to restart as code at the beginning of EP 03 has resolved the error. Player will need to restart if they wish to read smoking related scenes in previous episodes.

Updated MC Name selection. Player can now choose from a list of names instead of having to input one to proceed.

Player can now give Taha their chocolate bar if it's in their inventory.

When asking Maz about their scars, the second choice 'You want to ask about it but you're going to keep your mouth shut.' should now take you to the correct response.

Extended and updated 'End Game' scenes.

EPISODE 02:

If MC is faint after exiting the car, but also drunk, they should now get the fainting scene, followed by Dilani helping the MC in the bathroom.

UI + TECHNICAL

SETTINGS:

Autoname Save is now defaulted to ON. This is to add ease and flow to gameplay, especially for mobile, tablet, and app users, instead of calling for an inputted saved name. If player wants to input save names, toggle Autoname Saves to OFF.

Autoname Save previously only used the forename of the MC but now includes the surname as well.

Removed the Fullscreen toggle as it is only intended for desktop use. Player can still toggle fullscreen function via the UI bar on the desktop interface.

Added a choice indicator toggle. (This probably won't come into effect until EP 04 or 05)

Changed serif font from Vollkron to EB Garamond.

OTHER:

Changing the MC's pronouns via the Dashboard has been updated. Additionally, after confirmation will take player back to the Dashboard and not close the dialog boxes entirely.

Hovering over 'Personality', 'Motives', and 'Skills' titles in the Dashboard will now display an information box with a definition. Mobile and tablet users will need to tap on the title.

'Resume Game' now only appears on the main menu when there is an autosave in the saves log.

Choices styling changes.

General UI and button style changes.

Fixed errors with the text message styling.

Added styling for reading text off of a page in game.

Darkened blue in light theme 'Skyline' to reduce eye strain.

CREATE A SAVE

Introducing Create a Save! This feature allows players to quickly manufacture a save file and start at a later point in the game.

Set your identity, appearance, history, and statistics; including personality, motives, and skills. Continue to set key decisions made in previous episodes.

Randomise options available for creating a PC and key decisions.

OTHER

Fixed gaps and spacing issues.

Minor phrasing and sentence structure changes.

Grammar and typo fixes.

whew -- that's a lot of patch notes! apologies for so much that needed to be fixed.

this update shouldn't break/ mess with saves but as a disclaimer i will say, if you spot anything funky, broken, or you don't think things are triggering correctly, try starting a new save. the new create a save feature is incredibly code heavy, and it's been tested relentlessly, but i wouldn't be surprised if something crops up.

if starting a new save doesn't resolve your issue - please submit to bug report or just send me an ask/message.

some things have been meaning to get fixed for Some Time - thank you to everyone that is using the bug report form!

apologies if there are typos and/or bugs - this was a long one to edit and my lovely betas did an OUTSTANDING job reading so much for ep 3 - thank you so much again!!! this time i am going to give it a bit more time before i put together a patch so i can grab more error responses haha.

create a save has also added a wee chunk to the word count, somewhere around 6k, but i'm not including it in the episode 03 word count as it's purely code. so, if you think the total wc is off, that's why!

if you've read this far, happy reading and thank you so much for the continued support!! :) - becky <3

[idrellegames]

Hello all,

This is a general announcement post to cover a few changes, as well as a public build patch.

This patch addresses some lingering issues and bugs in Episodes 1 & 2. This is not a content update.

✦ Playthrough Restarts

Because of changes and fixes, if your save file is from June 24, 2023 or earlier, you should load a save file from the beginning of the Lethalis meeting in Episode 2 or restart from the beginning of the game. If you do not, you may encounter continuity, UI issues, or other errors. None of these are game-breaking. 

If you keep Wayfarer running in a tab, please either refresh your browser or close the tab and open the game in a new one. This is the only way to ensure the patch takes effect.

Full patch notes can be read here.

✦ A Statement on AI

NO AI TRAINING. Using Wayfarer, its images, or any of its written work to train generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. Creating chatbots based on the game’s text is not allowed. 

✦ A Statement on the Alpha Build

Wayfarer’s public build is free to play. It will not be updated until the alpha build’s Episode 4 is complete. Half of Episode 3 is available to play on my Patreon (available for the Recruit tier and above). Currently, the alpha build is a couple months behind the planned trajectory announced in the 2024 roadmap. Progress will be reassessed in July and updates made. 

The last alpha build update was on May 28, 2024. 

✦ Updates to the Game’s Structure

Since 2021 Wayfarer has been conceptualized as 3 acts and 15 episodes. While that story structure is still at its roots, it’s very apparent now that this is far too much story to be contained to a single game. So, I am breaking it into a trilogy.   

I have had this idea for a while, but I have held off on doing anything about it because of technical issues. Because of the way the story builds on itself, I need to ensure that continuity (including details like the player character’s inventory and locations they have visited) is preserved across all three game. However, even with some technical things to still test and figure out, I am at a point where I would like to move forward with the new structuring.  

WAYFARER 1

Prologue

Act 1: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3

Act 2: Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6,

Act 3: Episode 7

Epilogue

WAYFARER 2

Prologue

Act 1: Episode 8, Episode 9

Act 2: Episode 10

Act 3: Episode 11

Epilogue

WAYFARER 3

Prologue

Act 1: Episode 12

Act 2: Episode 13, Episode 14

Act 3: Episode 15

Epilogue

The structure is still very much the same as it was prior (what is now a single “game” in the new structure was an “act” in the old one). The change has been updated and reflected in the Story Log, which now only goes up to Episode 7. 

With this change, I will be looking into getting new cover art that is more specific to the first game’s events. All titles are TBA. 

If you’ve enjoyed Wayfarer and would like to support my work, please consider supporting me on Patreon. Patrons receive access to the alpha build, a private Discord server, exclusive previews, bonus content, side stories, and other benefits.

Wayfarer is a passion project and creating it is a full-time commitment. Any little bit goes a long way to help me bring it to fruition.

If you aren’t in a position to support financially, reblogs, shares, ratings and comments, and spreading the word about the game are much appreciated and do a lot to help me out! 💕

[mystiffox]

— bad sanses [crescents] redesign

heyy! thought i'd make a lil debut/intro to my canon utmv (named blue's verse bc i am So Original) starting from night and the gang :]

if anyone has any questions about my verse, you're more than welcomed to ask!! i'd be happy to talk about these skellies bc they occupy most of my brain rn

Killer goes by Shiv while Horror goes by Axe based on their main weapons. Dust goes by Lav, short for Lavender. Nightmare still uses the same name, but the boys always call him Night :]

clothing notes (and extras):

Shiv is the one with the most fashion sense, but even he's been lazy and decided to just walk around wearing a funny t-shirt and shorts sometimes. Definitely the one who gets everyone clothes during supply runs (yes he's fashion besties with plum). Likes clothes with many pockets for storage, too! Whether that's got snacks or daggers in them, you'll just have to dig around yourself /lh

Axe wears lumberjack/farmer-esque clothing to hint at his connection to Farmtale! Farmtale is protected by Nightmare (in secret) as it harbors the last of Horrortale's survivors— the AU was too corrupted to sustain itself— while also being the Crescents' main food supply. The patched jeans and sleeveless vest are actually gifts from the Farm brothers. Them and Axe (+ Axe's brother, Oak) are very close, subsequently making Farmtale a second home to the Crescents.

Lav prefers oversized clothing and probably likes to use weighted blankets to ground himself. Shiv dresses him up most, and Lav just tells him to get dark/neutral clothes with purple accents for him. It feels nice to be taken care of. Usually wears a beanie/cap when he’s at home and is without his hood (has the shortest tail out of the trio, hides it well).

Night prefers fancy-casual because he knows how it feels to wear clothes that didn't fit/weren't comfy for him (still has his old crown, somewhere..). Definitely wears a nightrobe at home too. Technically the necklace is a vial of his own negativity(?) extracted by Sci. I wanted to make it so that everyone else has that on certain charms/pendants infused with that same negativity to act as a hidden tracker for Night to pinpoint where his boys are (and his own necklace could act as an emergency booster if Night gets too weak)

[older ref version]