#the closer they are the more they can hurt me

[kimoralov3]

a/n: it's never too early for christmas

“baby, what the fuck are you doing?” rafe asks as he drops his bag on the floor. the sound of his voice startles you, causing you to hold onto the ladder tightly. 

“oh my goodness, you scared me!” you say with a laugh as you regain your balance. rafe looks less than impressed as he takes a look around the room.

“are you— are you decorating for christmas already? it’s early november.” he says with a scoff as he looks up at you, his arms crossed over his chest. you give him a sheepish smile as you shrug your shoulders.

“it’s never too early to decorate for christmas.” you say as you grab a handful of the fake snow you had been placing on the tree and throw it in his direction. it misses— terribly so, athletics had never been your strong suit.

“people still have their pumpkins on their porches, baby.” he says as he comes to stand at the bottom of the ladder. 

“must you rain on my parade?” you say with a roll of your eyes, rafe smirking up at you.

“sometimes. it’s fun.” he says as he places his hands on your waist, making sure you get down from the ladder safely. “next time you want to do some spur of the moment decorating in high places, wait for me to get home, hm? can’t have my baby getting hurt when i’m not here to come save her.” his hands have found their way to your cheeks, rubbing them gently.

your cheeks warm at his words, you smacking his chest as you turn away from him. “yeah yeah, whatever. since you’re here now, you can go hang all the garlands from the balcony.” you say as you hand him the box of christmas decorations. 

he groans, tucking the box under one arm. “can’t i get a kiss before you put me to work?” 

you sigh dramatically, grabbing rafe by the front of his shirt and pulling him down for a kiss. he smiles into the kiss, his free arm wrapping around you to pull you closer to him. you give him one final peck as you pull away before shooing him off to decorate the balcony.

“you owe me more than a simple kiss when i’m done with all this!” he calls out as he makes his way upstairs.

[no-144444]

The Grid! : When their teammate likes you...

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: somehow plays it cool…

Oscar understood that you were a magnetic person. You’d always been more extroverted than him, always been a bit more open to other people, and generally, you were just interesting. He got where Lando was coming from, to be fair, he’d fallen for you too. 

But openly flirting with you in the middle of a red flag during one of the most dangerous races of the season? That took a certain asshole. 

Lando Norris. 

Oscar had looked up to Lando throughout his career, and now having him as his teammate was brilliant. He loved it, up to a point. In recent months he’d been noticing the way Lando looked at you. The way he talked to you. The way he always wanted to be around you. 

“Hey baby,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around Oscar as he walked up. “Doing well out there.”

He also knew that you were less than interested in Lando. Not that you didn’t like him, but you did find him slightly immature and ridiculous, especially with how he handles races and media afterwards. You much preferred Oscar’s style of driving, and his way of speaking. 

Oscar nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He watched as Lando’s face fell, then he quickly picked it back up. “Doing our best, right Lando?”

You both looked to Lando, who looked guilty, like he’d been caught. 

“Yeah mate,” he agreed before walking off. 

“Jealous much?” you smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Oscar shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Just wanted a kiss, that’s all.”

“From me or Lando?” you teased.

“You, obviously,” he mocked. 

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Lando Norris: deeply insecure. 

Lando is insecure about a lot of things. One of his main ones is his worth as a human, and a driver. It hit him hard when Oscar got to stand on the top step of a podium before he ever had. He knew it was a matter of circumstance and the fact that the car was getting better, but it still hurt. Yet, you were always there to pick up the pieces. His sweet, kind girlfriend who was always there for him. 

That same girlfriend that was laughing at a joke Oscar told. Oscar wasn’t funny. Oscar has never been funny. 

Lando watched as you two talked. He watched the way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you engaged with his points and added your own. The way you two easily laughed, joked, and teased each other without ever going too far. 

He couldn’t help but feel… without. You had always been more introverted, and your extroverted side always seemed to come out with other introverts, aka, not Lando. Then began his spiralling of wondering whether or not he was good enough for you. He knew you loved him, and he loved you, but would that be enough? When you’re so different? When he can’t give you what Oscar can? Oscar was a 2-time-Gp winner in his second year. Oscar was more similar to you than Lando was. Oscar’s personality was closer to yours than Lando’s was. 

Was he enough for you?

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He walked into the hotel room, exhausted, and glad that the day was over. Media days took it out of him, and he was sick of watching Oscar’s smug face as he charmed you all day. 

You flung yourself on the bed, exhausted. “Oscar would not shut up today, would he?” you sighed. 

Lando’s lips quirked up into a smile. He turned to hide it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He kept talking to me about random shit, and I had to pretend to be interested all day.”

Lando almost laughed. “You don’t seem to mind when I talk your ear off.” 

“Yeah, obviously not,” you scoffed, looking at him as if it were obvious. “I like your rants. You don’t expect me to answer you all the time. You just let me listen. Plus, I love your voice.”

Lando’s heart felt fuller than it did before. You picked him. You loved him. 

“You like my voice, eh?” he smirked, joining you on the bed. He pressed soft kisses to your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. “I know a way you can hear it-”

“Lando, did I not just say I’m exhausted,” you chuckled, playfully pushing him off. 

He smiled. You truly were perfect. 

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Lewis Hamilton: unbothered 

He watched as George attempted to flirt with you and laughed. You laughed too, thinking it was a joke. George walked off, embarrassed. 

Lewis walked over and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “George is-”

“Pathetic?” he offered and you shook your head. 

“Don’t be so mean!” you scolded. 

“He’s a big boy, he can take it,” he smirked. “And anyways, what was he thinking?”

“I am your wife,” you nodded, agreeing. “But he is pretty cute…”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?” he teased. 

You laughed. “Never.” 

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George Russell: trusts you

“Lewis, nice to meet you,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “I’m Y/n Russell.”

“Y/n… your sister?” Lewis turned to George, smirking. “I didn’t realise she was so pretty, I guess someone had to take all the beauty genes.”

“She’s my wife,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist. “And yes, she is gorgeous.”

You somehow kept it together as Lewis apologised and walked off, but immediately broke out into laughter as he turned his back. 

“What a dick,” George chuckled. “You alright?”

“All good baby,” you giggled. “A bit weirded out that he thought we were siblings.”

George nodded, grimacing. “I vote we never speak about this again.”

“I second that,” you nodded. 

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Kimi Antonelli: confused more than anything

Ollie was a really nice guy, one of Kimi’s best friends despite only knowing each other for a year. He was a good teammate and a good friend. 

Kimi was clueless. He didn’t always understand what people meant when people ‘flirted’, to be fair, English was his second language. He watched as Ollie wrapped an arm around you, resting it over your shoulder as you grimaced, clearly wanting him to stop. Kimi just shrugged, assuming you’d just push him off or ask him to stop. You weren’t exactly known to put up with shit like that, so he wasn’t worried. You three walked around the Monaco bay, looking at the boats as the sun set, all three of you full from dinner. When you finally parted ways, you and Kimi went back to your hotel room as Ollie stayed out, going to Arthur’s house to visit, you sighed as you lay down. 

“What did you think of Ollie?” Kimi asked, laying beside you, your back to him. 

“Apart from his obvious flirting, I thought he was nice, I guess,” you shrugged. 

Kimi frowned. “What do you mean?”

You turned around to see him. “Him flirting? Yeah, I thought you’d say something about it,” you explained. “He was kind of… weird about it.”

“Did he make you uncomfortable?” he asked, upset with himself that he hadn't noticed. 

You stared at him with an inquisitive look, he really was oblivious. “Of course he did.”

“What?” he questioned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to make a bad impression,” you muttered. “He’s your best friend.”

“And you’re my girlfriend,” he reminded you, taking your hand. “And you are more important. If someone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me and I will deal with it, alright?”

You nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his hand. “Thanks Kimi.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled. 

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Alex Albon: slightly insecure…

He sat in his drivers room, he’d just filmed Team Torque with you and Logan, and he couldn’t help but feel… left out. You were American, specifically from the exact state of Florida, where Logan was from, you lived on the same street. You’d grown up together before he left to move to do European single-seaters. The entire episode was just you two talking and reminiscing over your joint experiences as a kid. Logan remembered everything about you, your favourite colour, your favourite food, even your favourite childhood movie (which Alex had gotten wrong). 

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, sitting beside him. “You’re not talking.”

“I didn’t know you and Logan were such good friends,” he admitted. 

You shrugged. “We grew up together.” 

“I know,” he responded, his voice low and hardened. “I didn’t know he’d remember everything about you.”

“I mean, people told me he had a crush on me in middle school so…” you trailed off when you noticed how Alex was closing his eyes and nodding. “Are you… jealous, or something?”

“No.” Yes. 

You smiled, feeling a little bit guilty. “Alex, you don’t have to be jealous,” you assured him. “I love you. More than anything.”

The pain in his chest eased slightly. “You’re sure?”

“Very,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

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Franco Colapinto: doesn’t even notice or gaf

Alex laughed at one of your jokes as Franco looked over some of the data from his crash. After a while, you walked over, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind. 

“Hi bebé,” he smiled, tired, but happy to see you. “How are you?”

You groaned. “Alex keeps flirting with me.”

His ears pricked up hearing you say that. “Alex?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. He turned to you. 

“Should I ask him to stop? I can talk to him-”

“It’s alright, I made him aware of the fact that I’m not interested,” you explained. 

“Oh, alright,” he shrugged. “Once you’re happy.”

He went back to looking over the data and you frowned. No reaction? No possessiveness?

“You don’t mind?” you questioned. 

“That he was flirting with you?” he asked, you nodded. “No, not really. I’m the one you’ve chosen for 3 years. We love each other, sí?” 

You nodded. 

“So we’re fine,” he smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 

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Logan Sargeant: also a bit upset…

He sighed as he watched Alex chat to you, a smirk on his face. You were his girlfriend, Alex couldn’t have you. Alex had James, Alex had Williams, Alex had the talent. Logan had you. Alex couldn’t have you. 

You glanced back at Logan, who had grown quieter in recent moments, and you frowned. His eyes were blown up, wide-eyed, mouth open, and his mind was thousands of miles away. You politely ended the conversation with Alex, dragging Logan back into his driver's room with a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, trying to play it off. “I”m fine, just… tired.”

You frowned again. “Logan, you can talk to me.” 

He shook his head, his hands gripping your waist, then the dam broke and he rested his head on your shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you if I lose this.”

Your heart broke. “Logan you’d-“

“No, please just let me talk,” he whispered. “I love you, more than anything. We both know I’m getting replaced either after or during this season,” hearing him say it as such a definite, hurt you. You knew how badly Williams had messed him up, but to hear him so defeated? You could’ve cried. “And I don’t want to lose you if I lose all of this. I love racing, but I love you more. You’ve been here through everything, always. You’re always here for me, and I just hope I haven’t fucked this whole relationship up with all my mental health stuff and being a bad driver-”

“Logan,” your tone was stern. “I love you. I love you, my Logan. I support ‘F1 driver Logan Sargeant’, and you’ll always be that, but I love Logan Sargeant, the boy who asked me out when I was 14 and never looked back, the boy who has made me feel loved and supported since that day, the boy who fought an uphill battle and is only now realising he’s allowed to let the boulder fall. I love that you’re a fighter. I love that you’re a driver. But I love most that you care about and love me. I care more about your mental health than any money or fame you could ever gain. I’m not asking you to keep putting yourself through this, Logan. I want you to be healthy and happy. I want you to smile again. I want to see the real you again.”

“What is the real me if I’m not winning?” his voice was just below a whisper. 

“You get to figure that out,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now please look at me Logan, so you know that I’m telling the truth.”

He raised his head, his eyes watery as he looked at yours, and for the first time in a while, he actually felt like it might all be ok. 

Granted, only when he was with you, but alright all the same. 

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Daniel Riccardo: freaky wit it

Daniel gripped his steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white under his gloves. He was in the car, meant to be in the zone, but all he could think about was the way that Yuki had a hand on your back. He knew Yuki definitely wasn’t a threat to him or his relationship, but it still felt shitty not being able to get over there and show him that you were his. 

He rushed out of the car, exhausted after bringing the VCarb in Q3 yet again, and immediately his hands were on you. 

“Looking so good today baby,” he whispered between kisses. “So fuckin’ pretty for me.”

You groaned against his lips, smiling. “Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah baby, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he smirked as he pushed a hand into your underwear. Your eyes went wide and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loud. You weren’t even in his drivers room, you were doing it against Yuki’s door in the hallway. 

“We should-fuck- we should go to your r-room,” you stuttered out as he rubbed your clit in lazy circles. 

“Why?” he smirked. “When I could have you right here and now,” he punctuated every word with a kiss, moving your hand and swallowing your moans as he sped up. “So fuckin’ beautiful so me.”

“Dan,” you moaned as he finally pushed a finger in. 

“So wet for me too. You like doing it like this? Where anyone could hear you? Anyone could see us?” he knew his words were falling on deaf ears as he revelled in the fact that he got to watch you fall apart for him. He got to make you cum, he got to kiss you, he heard every laugh, saw every part of you and your personality. It was him who you picked to love, and be loved in return. 

And by God, he wouldn’t trade you for the world. 

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Liam Lawson: angry sex anyone???

Liam grabbed your hand, pulling you into his drivers room after he had watched Yuki give you heart-eyes yet again. 

“That fucking dick,” he seethed, pressing his body against yours, pressing kisses up and down your neck. “Always fuckin’ wants what’s mine.” 

“Liam,” you whimpered as he pushed you down on the bed. “Please.”

Any and all control of himself was abandoned, and he pulled his race suit off, watching as you pulled off your dress. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he cursed, climbing on top of you as he smirked. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slowly pushed inside you. It burned, in the best way. “All yours.”

He smiled. “That’s my girl, taking me so well.”

Once he was fully inside and you were comfortable, he was thrusting in and out of you at a rate previously unknown to Liam. Did he like fast and rough sex? Yes. Was it ever this fast? No. Was it ever this rough? … no comment. He was grabbing and smacking all over your ass and tits, you were too busy gripping onto his hair as he used you how he pleased, all the while cursing out Yuki and praising you. 

You both left the driver’s room a little bit less steady than before, but much more satisfied than going in. Liam felt better too, since he’d given you something to show just how much he meant it when he said he was yours, and you were his. That something stayed dripping down your leg as Liam finished the race, ahead of Yuki. 

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Charles LeClerc: death?

He watched, the light in his eyes slowly dying, as you spoke animatedly to Carlos. 

Carlos Sainz, now number one enemy of Charles LeClerc. 

Honestly, he knew you’d never choose anyone over him, you loved him and he knew that. Still, some voice inside of him continued to urge him to run over to you two and scream ‘mine’ and then run off with you. He didn’t, obviously. He knew you would’ve been mad at him if he did. 

As the day continued, you stayed talking to Carlos, every so often, Charles would interject with a sarcastic comment, or some stupid fact about you, then following it up with ‘yeah, I know more than you’. It turned the two of them into school children. Both of them coming to you at different times of the day with random facts about random things, until you finally told them both to stop and share their love of facts with each other, not you. You had gotten so frustrated with the two of them, that you didn’t even want to speak to Charles. 

They both stopped after that. 

Any time Charles was jealous after that palaver? Yeah, he just stuck with the regular PDA overload. He didn’t want to deal with another sex ban. 

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Carlos Sainz: also freaky wit it

His gaze darkened as he watched Charles put a hand on your shoulder. Bullshit. You were his girlfriend. You were his. 

“Querida, stop fucking with me,” he demanded, a tight hold on your arm as he dragged you into his hotel room, 30 minutes later. 

You scoffed. “I’m shockingly not fucking with you at all,” you smiled, annoyed but unsurprised at his shitty behaviour. “In fact, I was being perfectly nice to everyone, including you, all night.”

He watched as you sat on the bed, exasperated and tired of his behaviour. He noticed how you quickly pulled off your heel, took down your hair and sighed, staring at him. 

“What?” you asked. “What did I do now?”

Part of him left bad, it wasn’t your fault that you were irresistible. It wasn’t your fault that Charles thought he could have whatever he wanted. It wasn’t your fault that you had to be kind, just to keep up appearances. It still made his blood boil, but he did appreciate the fact that it wasn’t technically your fault. 

But someone had to help him get rid of all of this pent up tension. 

“On your knees,” he spoke, his voice low and laced with desire. Your eyes widened, but you did as he said anyway and sank down to your knees in front of him, “It’s going to be a long night, querida. I can’t wait to see your pretty makeup smudged,” he smiled sadistically as you tried to not be as turned on as you were. 

I guess you two were a match made in heaven, or maybe hell. 

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Arthur LeClerc: plays his jealousy off… (not)

He grabbed a handful of your ass, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to yours as you yelped. You had been unsuspecting as you leaned over the guest barrier, trying to hear what Manuel was saying to you, when Arthur had caught his other teammate, Charles, staring at you with a smirk. 

You shoved him off after a few seconds and stared at him, waiting for an explanation. 

He shrugged. “Je voulais t'embrasser,” (I wanted to kiss you). “Is that a crime?”

“When you’re doing it like that, yes,” you chuckled, amused by his jealousy. 

“What?’ he smirked. “You don’t like it?” he teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “Arthur LeClerc,” your tone was warning. “Don’t push it,” you leaned in closer, whispering. “Tout le monde n'est pas aussi obsédé par moi que toi, arrête d'être jaloux.” (Not everyone is as obsessed with me as you, stop being jealous).

He laughed. “Tu es irrésistible,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “I cannot help it!” You gave him the finger as he walked away, and he blew you a kiss.

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Ollie Bearman: a bit upset…

He literally hit his head against the desk as he watched Kimi flash you his signature smile. He was sick of it. You were his girlfriend, not Kimi's best friend. You were his girlfriend. Alas, he couldn’t exactly whisk you away, you were his race engineer after all, and this was a strategy meeting, so he sucked it up and paid attention, trying not to look at you. 

You’d noticed how low Ollie had been all day and caught up with him as you walked out of the strategy meeting. “You alright?” you asked, wrapping one his arms around your shoulders as you walked beside him, away from the rest of the group. 

“I’m alright,” he lied, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes on his lips. You frowned. 

“Please talk to me,” you begged. “I don’t like it when you shut me out.”

He sighed. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” you smiled. “I’m sure it’s not Ollie, just talk to me.”

“I don’t like how close Kimi is to you,” he admitted. “I’m… It makes me jealous sometimes.”

Your face softened. “So I’ll put some distance,” you shrugged. “Easy.”

He did a double-take. “N-no I- you don’t have to do-”

“Ollie. I want us to work, and if that means I have to ask Kimi to back off a little bit, then I’ll do it, yeah?”

Ollie nodded. “I’m sorry-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Bearman,” you rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your lips to his. 

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Max Verstappen: ummm guys???

Max would be an insufferable child. He would literally hide their gloves and racing shoes, he would put dish-soap in their bottle, he’d somehow fuck up their laundry, and all because they looked at you too long. You were his, why would anyone else think you were available. 

There he was, on live, racing with his team, when you came over with another can of redbull for him. He’d been focused on the game, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimpse of his teammate, Luke’s stream. He saw him checking you out. 

He saw red. 

“Luke, do you need something or do you just like staring at my girlfriend?” he scoffed and you groaned. He wasn’t unknown to make scenes in public. 

“Max,” you groaned. “Please don’t.”

He rolled his eyes and settled for a kiss on the cheek while Luke just blushed. Max understood where he was coming from, you were fucking gorgeous. That still didn’t make it right though. 

Again, a little while later, he caught Luke staring at you as you sat in the back of his set up, watching the race silently. 

“Seriously Luke, do I need to turn off my camera or can you act like an adult and keep it in your pants?” He scoffed. “Het is onzin,”(it’s bullshit) he sighed.

“Max, calm down,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, muting his mic. “Who gives a fuck about Luke?”

He groaned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he admitted. 

“I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright,” you smiled, kissing him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled, then went back to his racing, though he did push Luke off the track (in the game) a few (7) times. 

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Paul Aron: he trusts you. 

He sighed, watching Armaury place a hand on your waist. Was he losing you?

Then he smiled as he watched you shove him off, shouting in his face. You were a big girl, you could handle yourself. You didn’t always need Paul to come in and protect you, he loved that about you. He felt his sense of pride growing as you walked over, still shouting at his teammate who was looking increasingly guilty and uncomfortable, even more so when you ran over to Paul and kissed him right there and then, in front of everyone. 

Yeah, he really had nothing to worry about. 

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Lance Stroll: mf he is scary. 

Lance smirked as he watched James (a friend of his) wrap an arm around your waist as you danced with a couple friends. Your face screwed up into one of disgust, and you politely excused yourself to get another drink. James sauntered over to Lance, a smug smile on his face. 

“Might want to keep your lady on a tighter leash,” he smirked. 

“Oh yeah?” Lance cocked an eyebrow. 

“Yeah man, she was dancing all over me!” he chuckled. “Seriously, I’d steal if she wasn’t such a-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he told him, his tone dangerous. “My girlfriend is exactly that, my girlfriend. If you want to go dance with her and make her uncomfortable, that’s your prerogative, but don’t be surprised when I punch you for it.”

His ‘friend’ left quickly after that. He didn’t bother you again. 

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Jack Doohan: maybe a bit angry…

He scoffed as he watched Pierre try yet another pick-up line on you and he felt himself get even angrier. Yes, he was the new guy. Yes, he should definitely bite his tongue and suck it up. Did he do that? No…

He went over to you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your head as Pierre’s face fell into a frown. 

“Oh, you two are-!” He started.

“Together? Yeah. 3 years, right babe?” He smiled, a little too smiley for regular Jack.

“3 years, sounds right,” you nodded. “Nice to meet you Pierre,” you smiled before walking off, away from the two of them. Jack followed behind you and you sighed. “You’re an idiot.”

“It’s not my fault I have a hot girlfriend,” he defended. 

“It’s not my fault I’m the hot girlfriend!” You laughed. “Just… keep your jealousy to yourself in the future!”

He grabbed onto your waist a pleading look in his eye. “But you make it so hard…”

“Don’t give me ‘fuck me’ eyes right now Jack Doohan,” you scoffed, pushing him off. “You are such a child.”

He chuckled, happy with himself. 

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[evie-sturns]

avoid - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when matt calls you out on you pushing him away, until a huge fight breaks out between the two of you. a couple hours later you find him a mess, you have no choice but to make things right.

contains: angst, crying, arguing, yelling, fluff, comforting, swearing.

------------------------------------------------------------

you didn't realise you were doing it, you just were.

you had accidentally been avoiding him and pushing him away for the past couple of weeks, there wasn't a specific reason but you just were.

9:04pm

i'm laying on the couch alone, watching some random romcom as i stare at the screen.

the floorboards creak as i hear matt coming down the hallway, his footsteps are heavy as he approaches the living room.

he stands in the doorway, just observing me for a couple of seconds.

i hear his lips part as he gets ready to speak.

"y/n..?" he mutters softly, his voice is weak and shy.

i hum quietly as a response, not even diverting my gaze away from the bright screen. i hear matt huff slightly, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"what- why- can you at least look at me when im speaking?" matt scoffs.

"what difference does it make?" i mumble back, still staring at the television.

"makes me think you might actually give a shit about me still." matt spits, his arms fold over his chest as he leans against the doorway,

"pfft." i dismiss him which only sets matt off even more.

"why are you acting like this? seriously!" matt exclaims,

"why are you being so sensitive." i groan,

i know i’m being annoying as shit, but i can’t help it, i’m just doing what i can to tick him off.

matt just stares at me, his breathing heavy as i see him visibly start fuming.

“you wanna know what it is? you’ve been acting like a total stranger for the past couple months and i’m done with it, i’m done with you.” matt raises his voice

i stand up off the couch, standing a couple feet away from matt as i lock eyes with him,

“me? i’ve been acting like i stranger?” i laugh dryly, not cause this situation is amusing, i’m just in shock.

“yes! you’ve been treating me like crap for the past too long!” matt keeps his voice raises,

i point my finger at his chest as i walk closer to him, “you cannot be serious? i literally do everything for you? i gave up so many things for more time with you!”

“i didn’t ASK you to do that! nobody did!” he scoffs loudly, grabbing my wrist and yanking it away from his chest.

“so it meant nothing to you? clearly you’re not appreciating my love for y-“

matt cuts me off,

“don’t even. you’re trying to make me feel bad when i’m literally trying to talk to you about my feelings!”

his eyes are narrow slits now, his fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.

“let me go, now.” i mutter angrily,

“just listen to me!” he spits, moving his hand off of my wrist to grab my shoulders,

he jolts me back and forth harshly,

“i fucking hate this new attitude of yours, you’re the most self centred bitch ever!” matt shouts,

his voice booms through my living room, making my heart race quicken.

“would you just shut up- shut up!” i scream,

matt shoves me back gently, not enough to actually hurt me, just enough to get his point enough.

“you’re just- you’re just being ridiculous?” matt mutters, turning on his heels and walking away from me.

“i fucking hate you! i hope you get that through your thick head!” i snap

i didn’t mean it.

not at all.

i was so angry, just doing anything i could to be mean.

i hear matt’s heavy footsteps as he walks up the stairs, followed by the door slamming shut.

i flop down on the couch, running a hand through my hair as i pant.

i don’t know why i said any of that.

(35 minutes later)

i’ve just been thinking for the past half hour, about things i shouldn’t have said, things i shouldn’t of done.

i’ve held back all my emotions, feeling somewhat numb, except for the intense feeling of guilt gnawing away at me

the whole house has been eerily silent, usually it would be filled with matt and i’s endless giggles, but it’s not.

i stand up off the couch, my legs somewhat wobbly and my stomach churning with immense guilt.

i need to talk to him,

i drag my feet over to the bottom of the stairwell, knowing matt’s at the top of the stairs, locked away in our bedroom.

one step,

after another,

i slowly walk up the stairs.

my heart pounds against my rib cage, not knowing what matt would say, nor think, when he saw me in the doorway,

the same person that just screamed at him, making him believe that i hated him.

i reach his door, my hand stalling on the doorknob as i let out a soft sigh.

i couldn’t bring myself to just twist the doorknob, my hand was lightly shaking.

i swallow harshly before twisting the knob,

i stand in the doorway, looking around the dimly lit room.

there’s a discomforting feeling in the air, the room is cold.

my eyes search around the room until they land on matt.

he’s laying down on the bed, his back facing me and his still.

is he asleep?

“matt..?” i call out quietly, my voice breaking.

i walk over to the bed, my footsteps light.

suddenly i hear him,

a choked sob escapes him.

he’s crying?

i made him cry,

matt’s never cried infront of me before

and i’m the reason he now has.

“baby- are you crying-?” i whisper, reaching down and brushing his hair away from his eyes. he shivers at my touch, rolling over so his face is buried in the pillow.

i quickly crawl into bed beside him.

“please- please don’t cry-“ i mutter, my tone is panicked as i reach for him.

i sit up against the headboard as he stays buried in the pillows beside me, letting out strangled sobs.

“please look at me- darling i am so sorry, seriously.” i speak softly, my voice just loud enough so it’s audible to him

“matt, look at me please.” i say, my tone shaky as my voice cracks again.

he gently lifts his face from the pillows,

i take the opportunity to grab him, and tug him to sit up beside me.

i run my hands through his messy hair, he looks like a wreck, i feel terrible.

his eyes are swollen, his lips are a deep red and puffy and tears roll down his pale cheeks.

i grab his hands, “matt,” i sigh, “y-you’re killing me.”

matt stares down at the bed, “can- can i have a hug?” he whispers with a small hiccup.

“of course you can have a hug.” i sigh, wrapping my arms around him and pulling his body flush against mine.

i hold him close to me as i lay down on the bed, his head buried in my chest.

he sniffs shakily as he just cries, letting everything out.

i can still feel the undeniable tension in the air,

we’re both so angry at eachother still, it’s hard not to be after argument like that.

“hey, it’ll be okay- we’ll be okay.” i whisper, running my fingers through his locks of hair.

he lets out another sob against me, the noise making my heart break.

“you’re gonna make me cry.” i whisper with a small sigh, holding the back of his head gently.

“sorry.” he sniffles.

i hold him in my arms, whispering small words of affirmation while matt slowly starts to calm down.

i fight back the tears in my eyes as i attempt to stay strong for him.

“could we- talk maybe?” matt sniffs, wiping his eyes on my shirt before slowly lifting himself away from me.

he sits up on the headboard beside me, his legs outstretched and his hands still gently shaking.

“i think we need to.” i nod,

we both sit in silence for a second, waiting for one person to start.

“i know i was-“ i start but matt interrupts me,

“can i go first- i just want to tell you… how i’ve been feeling.” he rambles, his voice cracking.

i nod, “yeah..”

matt starts,

“i mean it when i say you’ve been stupidly distant for the past months, everytime i try to initiate anything with you, i just get brushed off, all of our conversations are shallow and i can’t tell if you actually care about me anymore!”

i stare at him as he rambles, trying to take all of his words to heart without getting mad again.

“i love you so much, and it’s hurting me to see you slowly drift away from me, i just want to know what i did wrong..?” he follows on, swallowing harshly,

i nod slightly, my lips parting to speak but no words coming out.

“i’m not trying to push you away matt.” i whisper,

he goes to speak but i interrupt, “i think it’s just a mix of everything, i’m just so exhausted with work after half my coworkers quit, i’ve been working long hours and i don’t mean to push you away, i swear.” i ramble on,

matt nods slightly with understanding, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“i love you so much matt, and i’m trying to do better, i promise.” i finish,

matt just looks at me, before finally nodding.

he lets out a breath, one that i can tell took a weight off his shoulders.

“i’m sorry about the argument.” matt says,

i shake my head, “no i was being a pain on purpose, it could’ve been avoided if i acted differently.”

“i came at you with like a confronting tone- i should’ve approached it better.” he speaks,

“and i also shouldn’t have laid my hands on you, i didn’t mean for it to ever get physical..” matt whispers, his eyebrows furrowing as he breaks eye contact with me,

“it’s okay, i needed it-“ i try to defend his actions but he cuts me off,

“no- no that was a shitty thing for me to do, i feel super guilty about it.” he sighs,

the room goes silent, my heart aches as i try to apologise for that one thing i said, the 3 words that exited my mouth, which is now eating me alive.

“i’m sorry- for saying i hate you.. i- i don’t i swear, it wasn’t true at all i was just saying it to make you mad- i promise, i love you more than life itself.” i spit it out.

matt’s gaze softens,

my eyes well up with tears, “i shouldn’t have said that, i’m so sorry-“ i whisper out,

matt reaches his hands up to my face, his hands caressing my cheeks and his thumbs wipe my eyes quickly.

“no tears.” he gently coos,

“i’m so sorry- i fucked up so bad-“ i continue, but matt cuts me off.

he presses his lips to mine, his hands still firmly on the sides of my face.

he rolls us over so he’s ontop of me, keeping our lips connected.

i kiss back, distracting myself from the swirling thoughts in my head.

after a few moments he pulls away from my lips with a small ‘pop’.

a warm smile appears on his face as he peppers kisses all over my face.

i squirm with a giggle as his pecks kisses all over me, before pressing a final peck to my lips.

“we’ll always talk things out next time, i promise this won’t happen again.” he whispers comfortingly, his hands gently running through my hair.

i nod in agreement, “i love you.”

“love you too sweetie.” he whispers, before going back to peppering kisses all over my face.

-

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl girl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

@sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-love r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall john @raysmayhem-72

[babygorewhore]

Invisibility.

Logan Howlett x fem reader

After going around checking on everyone, you overhear Logan in his room and you can’t resist watching despite feeling like a perv.

Requested by @hereforthehitsbaby I hope you enjoy!!!!!!

Warnings! Male Masturbation, unprotected sex, rough? Sex, claws come out briefly, misuse of mutation, stomach bulge!

It was an accident. Truly it was! Charles Xavier asked you to take a shift checking on everyone during the night. He knew you were a chronic insomniac. Your mutation also aided in the responsibility. Turning invisible.

The grunts you heard outside of Logan, one of the begrudging mutants who had a friendship with Charles, made you concerned he was hurt.

But it couldn’t be further from the truth.

When you listened closer, you heard more sounds but they were moans. Chasing pleasure that Logan couldn’t seem to satisfy.

You had a massive crush on the grumpy old man. His heart of gold won you over but his muscles also didn’t hurt. This was completely perverse but you silently opened the door.

While invisible, you pressed yourself in the corner and tried not to melt.

Logan was naked, light sweat coating his warm skin and his hair was messy. Large fist cupped around his dick, red tip throbbing with precum smearing down his shaft. It was better than the best porn you’d ever seen. His eyes were drifted shut and you pressed your thighs tightly together.

The blankets were torn, as if he clawed them. Logan’s nostrils expanded and his jaw moved in your direction. You tried to remain completely still and calm but your heartbeat thudded wildly.

He inhaled deeper and you knew in that moment, Logan was aware you were there. You prepared for anything, ready to sprint out but instead Logan started thrusting into his fist harder.

And moaning your name.

His balls thudded against the mattress and your entire body was on fire as Logan kept eye contact despite not being able to see you. Tugging and smearing cum all over his cock with a heavy hand. His neck strained as he sat up higher, opening his legs wider.

Your pussy fucking ached from how hot he looked. Knowing you were watching and continuing to jerk himself off. You wanted more than anything to go over and help him out but you also selfishly wanted to keep watching.

The selfishness faded quickly as Logan started moving faster. You couldn’t take it. You moved over, no longer being invisible and Logan reached forward. Gripping your pants, he tore them off, exposing your thighs and sopping underwear.

He hastily shoved your panties to the side, in a frenzy he clutched your hips, squeezing so hard it would bruise and you settled on his dick.

You let out a whimper at his girth, filling you to the brim as you started bouncing. Slickness giving you more give as you rode him. Logan cupped the back of your head, fingers pulling your hair as your mouth fell open.

“Dirty little girl, keep bouncing like that. fuck, you’re squeezing me so good.” Logan moaned and you shrieked as he drove his cock harder in you. Your hands steadied yourself on his chest and he smacked your ass.

“Atta girl. Fuck yourself on my dick, bub. That’s it, yeah. There you go, you can take it.” Logan felt your lower stomach, “feel me in your guts? that’s what happens to pervert girls who want my attention.”

He flipped you on your back, not giving you time to situate yourself as he thrusted into you, panties still moved to the side. Logan brought your legs over his shoulders, your ass off the bed as he rocked his hips. Balls slapping.

You were crying at how good it felt, nearly seeing white as he fucked you full. Your hands were clawing at the sheets and you gasped when Logan’s claws peeked out.

He growled as you tightened around him.

“You like that, princess? You like seeing them?” Your movements were sloppy and Logan centered you. “Where you going? Give me that fuckin pussy,”

You wailed as you came, trembling as panting and Logan wasn’t far off. He shifted your legs so he was gripping your knees. Driving his dick at a brutal pace.

Then it spilled into you, dripping out of your hole and you sobbed as Logan pinned your wrists down, sheathing back his claws. He shook and hovered above you as you both caught your breath.

“Didn’t take you as a stalker, bub,” His dog tag brushed your neck.

You swallowed and looked up at him. Logan chuckled and looked down at your connected bodies.

“Looks like you need more, don’t you? Need me to make you cum again, princess?”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Tagging @marchsfreakshow @taintandviolent @xxladymjxx @bloodibambiidoll @cxrrodedcoffin @hereforthehitsbaby @userchai @starkeysprincess @gh0stsp1d3r

[alchemistc]

He's drunk when he sends it. Pissed because Buck won't just let this die. Tired of seeing his name flash across his screen, texts full of anger and sadness and hurt.

I suspect you've already met your last and it's not me he sends, and then turns off his phone and reaches for the bottle of whiskey on his top shelf.

---

If he'd been sober he would have known better. It's not even like it's been a pervasive thought - just an inkling at the start of things that seemed to be completely off base once he got to know everyone better, but looking back... He can see it. The built in life. The steadfast support. The knowledge that they'd always, always have each other's back. The kid who hero worshipped him.

The thing is he's fielding texts from Eddie, too, checking in and then circling around to being so goddamn judgmental that it's like they've coordinated their attacks to give Tommy no room to breathe.

He ended it to save himself from slipping so far under the surface he wouldn't make it back.

The fact that he's lost them both to his own fear is icing on the cake for the demon on his shoulder that keeps trying to remind him that once upon a time he'd fully thought Eddie and Buck were amicable exes.

---

He has to blink to figure out who's standing on his doorstep. The mustache is gone.

"If you meant who I think you mean, you're dumber than you look," Eddie says, and shoulders past Tommy before Tommy can even muster an affronted expression.

Tommy wanders after Eddie into his own kitchen, immediately annoyed that he looks more at home there than Tommy has felt in weeks. He'd gotten used to the loft - the space, the echoes, the lights of the city. The smell of his own aftershave on Buck's pillow.

They never spent much time here. The loft was closer - to Harbor, to the 118, to all the things in the city that tempted them out for a night. And staying at the loft meant he wouldn't have the echoes of Buck in every room, around every corner. (The echoes are in him, instead, and he still feels the absence like a lanced wound.) Tommy has always been good at making other people think he's good at putting distance between himself and them.

Eddie digs in a drawer, pulls out the bottle opener shaped like a cow and pops two tops. Holds one out for Tommy and scowls when Tommy wrinkles his nose at the Corona.

"Absolutely screw you if you think I'm driving halfway across town for you just to get the ones you like, right now."

Tommy can't argue that. He takes a drag and swallows. Stares. Is everyone else experiencing whiplash seeing him without the mustache? It looks fine but it'd taken so much fucking work to get used to it and now it's just gone. Clean shaven, an acre of skin he hasn't seen in months.

Tommy blinked and the entire world was different. Tommy freaked and the world changed.

"What are you doing here?"

Eddie's eyebrows both lift, a frank Are You Fucking Serious look on his face that makes Tommy want to take him to the mats and have it out in the garage instead of over beers.

"Buck may be spinning his wheels trying to figure out what the fuck you meant but I know damn well what you were implying."

That seems unlikely. Eddie always seems to be the last person to have a single clue what was going on, with Buck scraping in just before him. It's a tight race.

He used to find it charming.

(He absolutely does not still find it charming, he tells his heart, and wonders if he could hire some tiny asshole gnome to go stomp around in an atrium or two and get it to stop doing what it's doing. Fucking traitor.)

"Do you actually believe that, or is it some dumb excuse because you're terrified of being happy?"

Oh, that's fucking rich.

Tommy opens his mouth to tell him exactly that but Eddie just steamrolls right by him. "You don't have to point out the hypocrisy, jackass. I'm well aware of my own issues. Thing is - you're like, almost right. Buck does make me happy. Next to Chris there's no one else in the world I'd rather have by my side, rain or shine, good or bad. I love him. He's my person."

Tommy rolls his jaw. It's not a vindication to hear it.

"Except I'm not gay, Tommy. And I don't want that. I never have. And neither does Buck, just in case that argument was about to hit the airwaves."

"How do you know?"

Something sparks in the back of Eddie's eyes. Understanding. Triumph.

"You want an itemized list or a demonstration?"

Which is when Tommy knows he's stepped into an absolute minefield. No markers. Just free balling his way through a conversation that could explode with even the slightest pressure.

Eddie's got his phone out.

None of this is ideal.

When he looks up, his eyes land squarely on Tommy, who would like in this moment to be able to curl so far in on himself he gets sucked clean through the other side. "First of all, Buck may have just been improvising his entire journey of sexuality but for once I was trying to get ahead of the curve so that whole starry-eyed newly not straight vision you have of Buck is bullshit. You let him pull you along by the shirt strings for months without pressing pause and then you freak out when he thinks his speed and your speed are the same speed?"

This is feeling a whole lot like an ambush, now.

"Did you ever even try to slow him down?"

Tommy has some choice words that aren't remotely appropriate to say to someone who is at least tangentially still his friend, so he takes another swig of shitty beer. God, this shit is awful.

"You wanna know how I know I'm not his one? How I know he's not mine?"

Tommy really, really doesn't. Honestly he'd like to kick him out.

"Because he went at our friendship at the same warp speed pace he took your relationship and it never fucking scared me."

Proof in the pudding, for Tommy. He's not the sort of jackass who actually thinks he can make a different judgement call on someone else's sexuality than the one they've made themselves, but come on.

"Shannon's been dead for half a decade," Eddie says, voice dropping so suddenly Tommy feels it like an icy draft. "And maybe one day I'll make my peace with that. Maybe one day I'll get out from under it. The point is I've lost them both and the loss wasn't the goddamn same."

"Buck came back," Tommy argues.

Eddie scoffs. Wrinkles his nose. "Jeez, he wasn't kidding about how weird that sounds." His phone buzzes on the countertop, and Tommy wonders what the hell that look on his face means. "Don't change the subject. I'm not here to talk you into anything. I'm just here to drink a beer with you and tell you how goddamn stupid it is to think that an uncertain future with Evan Buckley isn't worth every second of terror it causes you."

"You don't know me as well as you think you do."

Eddie tips the bottle against his lips. Swallows. God, why hadn't Tommy just pursued the self-proclaimed straight guy for a couple weeks before he scratched the itch somewhere else and kept a friend, instead?

"Maybe." Eddie tips his head. "Maybe I do, though. Maybe in the months and months you were invited to all my mopey nights in with Buck and all the crazy crap we end up involved in at the station and all the times you couldn't shut up about him when he wasn't around and all the times I got to see you falling ass over teakettle for my best friend, I learned a fucking thing or two about Tommy Kinard." He wags his head back and forth. "Maybe."

"Is there a point to this?"

Eddie tips his eyes to his phone, and it's probably too late at this point for the suspicion to begin to creep in.

"I mostly just came to confront you about your completely off base bullshit excuses, but there's actually a pretty simple solution to at least one of your multitude of issues, so. Now we're waiting."

Tommy doesn't like the sound of that at all.

"Chris is mad at you, by the way."

It's a distraction. It's fully a - "Why is he mad at me?"

"I should actually thank you, because it's the first time he's actively talked to me in months," Eddie continues, like Tommy hadn't asked a question. "He's pissed because Buck is sad and there's literally nothing in the world that gets a rise out of the Diaz boys like sad Buck."

"You can just say you're pissed at me and go, Eddie."

"Oh I'm angry. Don't think I'm not. Mostly I'm just sad for you. You had six months to get to know Buck and never thought to yourself 'hes going to love me and it's going to hurt' until he skipped too far ahead in the program."

And that's - kind of the final straw. He's let Eddie get his licks in. He deserves it, he knows he does. Honestly it's a little cathartic to hear - to know exactly what Buck has spent his time dissecting post-Tommy. "That's all I ever thought about. Do you think I didn't know going in? I tried to put a stop to it before it even started and he just doubled down! Do you think for a second I wasn't viscously aware that I was setting myself up for -."

No. He's not gonna say it. He's not giving that to Eddie when he couldn't even give it to Ev-Buck. When he couldn't give it to Buck.

Eddie looks victorious anyway.

"And for six months you thought it was worth it."

"For six months I was too much of a coward to stop thinking about it."

Eddie drains the rest of his beer. "I'm not gonna lie. You screwed up pretty bad. Like. Astronomically bad. Giving up your location in a firefight bad."

Tommy does everything he can not to wince.

"It's salvageable, though. If you want it to be. If there's anything I know about Buck it's that second chances are his bread and butter." He's been dancing around saying anything of substance about Buck's feelings, in all of this, but the hints are there. As if the bouts of angry-depressive texts from Buck weren't clue enough.

"And what if it's not what I want?"

Eddie's eyes dart to his phone one more time. "Then you can make it a clean break in about ... three and a half minutes."

Tommy nearly tosses his beer across the room.

[pepperyduck]

pins & needles

summary: how various jjk men react to ur new/unnoticed piercings! incl. nanami, gojo, geto, choso

warnings: veryyyyyyy suggestive (esp in nanami's), (new) piercings, geto's & nanami's is a new relationship type thing. excuse any typos pls😞. 18+ mdni!

a/n: i got like 3 new piercings over the weekend, this is just self indulgent and cute methinks. also tyyy for 700 :3, i'm trying so hard to get over the writer's block. love u all!

choso + smiley piercing!

"i've never been happier to see you," choso groans as soon as he enters your dorm, kicking off his shoes at the door. though his voice is monotone, you can infer he's tired, worn out from a day's work and fighting curses.

"rough day?" you scoot over in bed to allow room for your boyfriend, smoothing out the sheets and flipping your blanket up.

"very." the singular word is the only response choso gives before beginning to strip his uniform right in front of you. as you're watching intently, choso gets almost completely naked before grabbing some clothes he'd left over; a pair of baggy pants and an "i heart my girlfriend" shirt that you gifted him, and lazily putting them on.

"i did something today, cho," you inform him, and choso’s attention immediately snaps to you, eyes showing that he was obviously wondering.

"what’d you do?"

you give him a bright smile, all the teeth in your mouth shown to him, the shiny ring glistening atop your pretty gums. choso’s brows furrow together, his pupils coming to realize there was something new in your mouth, something different about your smile.

"what’s…that?" he asks, stepping closer and closer and eventually sitting on the bed with you. you giggle at his curious looking, his eyebrows still knitted together in an inquisitive way.

"a piercing, silly," you inform him, carefully flipping up your top lip to show where the jewelry went through the frenulum of your inner lip.

"does it hurt?" choso leans in even more, straightening his eyes with the freshly pierced hole in your mouth.

"not really, just a little bit," you tell him, letting go of your lip and pressing a quick peck to choso’s lips. it catches him off-guard, choso’s face lights up red because he thought he couldn’t kiss you. smiling triumphantly, you pull away from your boyfriend.

"it—um—it looks really pretty on you." choso compliments, "can i kiss you again? please?" and he’s so sincere and sweet, always asking permission for everything. so endearing, really, even with his deep, dark voice.

needless to say, when he kisses you again, choso is making sure to flick the jewelry all around with his tongue, faintly enough to not hurt the new wound. and it becomes a habit from thereon.

gojo + bellybutton piercing!

"i missed you so much, baby."

satoru is on top of you, arms caging you in while you lay underneath him, smiling and feebly grasping the biggest part of his bicep. it had been over a month since you'd seen your husband, he'd been away on a business trip for far too long.

"did you miss me?" his words are drawn out and dramatic, like always, like he was teasing you—but he was practically always teasing you.

"yes, satoru," you blankly reply, "i missed you."

just before you can roll your eyes, gojo's kissing you, a bit enthusiastically, but you quickly melt into his touch. as annoying as he could be, you loved him, you missed him. you had longed for him the moment he left—that was a fact you couldn’t deny.

as quickly as he meets your lips, satoru leaves, disconnecting himself to trail down your torso that was draped in a way-too-expensive t-shirt of his. but the one thing that doesn't leave you is his eyes, he keeps an intense stare on your face as he moves lower and lower towards your waistline. his fingertips dance along your sides before pinching the fabric of the bottom of the shirt and slowly lifting it up.

his eyes are no longer able to stay on yours when he catches a glimpse of the sparkly blue rhinestones on each ball of the jewelry stuck through your navel. of course, you chose the shade that best matched satoru's eye color.

"no way!" satoru exclaims, beaming with a new-found excitement for the little hole in your tummy, "you actually did it?"

"yes, satoru," you repeat, threading your fingers through the white tufts of your husband's hair.

gojo's nimble fingers come to play with the jewelry—the size comparison comedic from how large his hands are. he studies the now fully healed wound, moving the jewelry all around and practically forgetting the previous heated mood.

"do you like it?" you somewhat nervously ask, intimidated by the tedious investigation of your bellybutton.

"yes, duh," satoru dramatically quips, "you think i should get one next?"

nanami + nipple piercing!

kento had tried so hard to ignore it.

you didn't mean to distract him, really. it was a simple mishap at first, not wearing a bra when kento came over. but after the first time, he didn't seem to mind, he was gentlemanly enough. his eyes stayed averted—when you were looking at him, at least—so you took it as a green flag to remain braless when he was at your house without worry.

but nanami's only a man.

so here you are, after work, after your boyfriend had come over, ranting to him in your kitchen about your boss and whatever bullshit you had to put up with that day. but your words land upon deaf ears, noise drowned out by the sight of the little hearts poking out from the shirt you're wearing. he's sat at your dining table, legs lazily spread as he half-listens to you.

"—like, what?! what else am i supposed to do in that situation?"

for the first time in your venting session, you lock eyes with kento, noticing how they flash up quickly from...your chest.

"ken?"

"um—yes?" he chokes, a little too obviously for him to not be embarrassed over.

a smug smile rests over your face, nanami was caught red handed, ogling at your boobs and the cute heart-shaped jewelry that adorned them.

"what'cha staring at?" trailing closer to him with a teasing tone in your voice, you're killing him, embarrassing the poor man as the seconds roll on. kento doesn't reply either, only a raspy breath leaving his lungs as his response. his face heats up and his expression drops, shamelessly glancing down at your chest once more—one, two—counting the peaks of your nipples through the shirt.

"i'm sorry," he finally chokes out, unable to keep his eyes from flashing up and down, to your eyes then to your chest, again and again.

without any words, you slot yourself between nanami's legs, inching your chest closer to his face. it was so funny how easily his stoic persona disintegrated under your presence. he'd never been this close to your chest—to you. and it's intoxicating to him, he's ashamed how he loses himself by simply being eye level with your boobs.

but that guilt quickly washes away when you take his hand and place it perfectly to cup your tit—index finger and thumb resting right around the pretty jewelry under your shirt.

tdlr; that's the first night your boyfriend stays over at your place.

geto + clavicle piercing!

"you look lovely tonight."

smooth as ever, geto compliments you, his voice dripping with a sweet nectar. your insides warm up despite the harsh cold outside, the thick coat draped over your frame doing little to combat the weather.

"thank you," you whisper and smile at him, stepping into the door of the fancy restaurant suguru had chosen for your date. third date, to be exact.

once you're at your table, suguru helps you shimmy the bulky jacket off your shoulders, revealing the tasteful, deep-cut top you had chosen for your date—along with the two studs on each side of your collarbone that your clothing showed off rather perfectly.

it takes suguru a few moments to notice once he sits down. he tries to strike up conversation, relying on the simple questions and responses he can utter without getting too distracted. however, within a few minutes, geto is cracking, eyes every so often flickering down to the gems that aligned your clavicle so prettily. he can't help it, because with every slight movement you make, the jewelry sparkles in the dim light of the restaurant—it's hard to ignore.

"are you okay?" you interrupt your previous dialogue when you take note of geto's increasingly hazy replies, and how he seems a bit spaced out.

"yeah," suguru swallows deeply, "i really like your—um," his pointer finger vaguely motions to his own collarbone, and you have to look down at your chest before you realize what he’s talking about.

his mouth is dry. he’d already thought you were, like, the sexiest woman on earth, but this, oh this, was just too much. geto was unsure as to why he found the piercings so distracting, so hot, but nonetheless enjoyed the view he had.

"oh, thank you!" you giggle, smiling brightly and ghosting your fingers over the piercings—you’d honestly forgotten that this would be the first time he’s seen this much of your body, and the piercings ended up being the perfect touch to make suguru lose his mind.

and he can't wait until he's able to feel on 'em, too.

[lostfracturess]

LAST DECEMBER MORNING — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

summary — on a frost-bitten december morning, you watch satoru gojo prepare for his fated battle with sukuna with infuriating calm, like he isn't planning to sacrifice himself for the greater good. you've spent years being his secret, clearing battlefields for him and stealing kisses between missions, but now you're faced with the most brutal truth. that sometimes the cruelest curse isn't the one that kills you — it's loving someone who belongs to the world before they belong to you.

word count — 5.4 k

warnings — heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood and violence, implied death, unhealthy relationship, sad ending

author's note — this has been rotting in my drafts since the final jjk chapter dropped, and i finally dragged it out into the light bc i'm procrastinating uni. fair warning, this is pure angst with zero comfort, just two people breaking each other's hearts because sometimes love isn't enough. anywayys, happy reading <3

masterlist

Winter had never felt so much like an ending.

You watched frost creep across the windows of your shared apartment, each crystalline pattern forming like cracks in glass, spreading slowly but inevitably.

Outside, the world lay hushed under winter's blanket, everything soft and serene. Birds traced lazy patterns against a sky so blue it hurt to look at, and fresh snow made everything clean and new.

It was the kind of morning that belonged in fairy tales, the kind poets write about when they want to capture peace in words. Strange, how you'd never imagined death would choose such a beautiful day.

You watched Satoru move through his routine, each gesture precise and unhurried. White hair caught the pale sunlight as he smoothed it back, his reflection in the mirror handsome as ever before he adjusted his clothes, and put on his blindfold.

You'd watched him prepare for countless missions before, but this felt different. This felt final.

The normality of it all was almost cruel — how he could stand there, getting ready like this was just another day, just another fight. Like the sun wasn't rising on what could be your last morning together.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, each second falling like a stone into still water. Time felt strange, both rushing too fast and moving too slow. You wanted to grab the clock's hands, force them to stop, to give you just a few more moments in this morning that felt like borrowed time.

"You're staring," he said without turning around, a slight smile playing at his lips.

"Can you blame me?" You were curled up in the window seat, tea growing cold in your hands. "It's not every day your— whatever we are goes to fight the King of Curses."

He turned then, and even through the blindfold, you could feel the weight of his gaze. "Whatever we are?" There was amusement in his tone. "After all this time, you still don't know what we are?"

"Well, we're not exactly big on labels," you pointed out, trying to keep your voice light despite the heaviness in your chest. "Secret relationship and all that."

"Ah, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it?" He crossed the room to where you sat, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "The sneaking around, the secret meetings—"

"Satoru." You caught his hand. "How are you so calm about this?"

He tilted his head, considering. "Would you prefer if I was panicking?"

"I'd prefer if you showed any emotion at all about the fact that you're about to fight Sukuna." You stood up, setting your tea aside. "You've been acting like this is just another day, just another fight, but it's not. You know it's not."

"I think I've shown plenty of emotion," he said, pulling you closer with a playful smile. "Just last night, if I recall—"

"Don't." You pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him at arm's length. "Don't deflect. Not today."

The smile faded from his face, replaced by something more serious. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me why you're so calm. I want you to tell me why you're not worried." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on. "I want you to tell me why it feels like you're saying goodbye."

He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing patterns on your wrist where he still held it. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "The world needs to move forward. It needs to find someone stronger."

"What are you talking about?" You pulled back slightly. "You're the strongest there is."

"Am I?" His smile was gentle, almost sad. "Or is that just what everyone needs to believe?"

"Satoru—"

"The world has relied on me for too long," he continued. "They've made me their symbol, their savior, their stupid hero. But what happens when I'm gone? Who protects them then?"

"You're not going anywhere," you said. "You're going to win. You always win."

He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "Sometimes winning isn't about surviving. Sometimes it's about making sure what comes after is better than what came before."

"That's not funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm trying to tell you that whatever happens today, the world will keep turning. It will find new leaders, new protectors. Maybe even better ones."

"I don't want new protectors," you whispered. "I want you."

"Ah, but you've always had me," he said softly. "Ever since that first mission together, when you told me my head was too big to fit through doorways. Do you remember?"

You huffed. "You were showing off, making everything more complicated than it needed to be."

"I was trying to impress you."

"You're always trying to impress me."

"But it's working, right?"

You pressed closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent. "You know it is, you idiot."

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. For a moment, you both stood there in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of how this all began, of the first time you'd been close enough to hear his heart race.

For loving Satoru Gojo had always been the most beautiful and dangerous thing in your world.

It started in blood, as most things in your world did. A mission gone wrong, cursed spirits thick in the air, the metallic taste of death sharp on your tongue. You’d seen him fight before—who hadn’t?

But that night was different. That night, you saw him bleed.

A special-grade curse caught you both off guard. One moment, he fought three curses at once like some untouchable god, and the next, he was crashing through three buildings, blood gushing from his mouth.

Something in your chest cracked at the sight — not from the impact of being thrown back yourself, but from seeing him, the strongest sorcerer alive, look so terrifyingly human.

You remembered how his blindfold had been torn, those devastating blue eyes meeting yours across the wreckage. Blood trickled down his chin, his usually perfect hair matted with debris, and yet he smiled. That damn smile that made your heart stutter even as cursed spirits attacked you from all sides.

“Trying to steal my spotlight?” he’d joked, wiping blood from his lips as he stood. “I’m the only one allowed to look cool here.”

You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to scream at him for making jokes when he could have died. You did none of those things. Instead, you cleared the area, giving him the perfect opening he needed to obliterate the special grade.

Later, after the dust had settled and the reports had been filed, he cornered you in the darkened hallway of Jujutsu High.

“You’re angry,” he said, not a question but a statement.

“I’m not angry.” You were furious. “I’m just wondering how someone who’s supposed to be the strongest can be so fucking reckless.”

He stepped closer, backing you against the wall. “Worried about me?”

“You wish.” But your voice shook, betraying you. Because you had been worried. Terrified, actually. The image of him lying in that wreckage, blood staining his white hair red, had burned itself into your mind.

“Liar,” he whispered, and then his lips were on yours.

Everything they said about Satoru Gojo was true — he was overwhelming, all-consuming, impossible to resist. Kissing him felt like being struck by lightning, like being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. You broke apart, both breathing hard, and reality came crashing back.

“Fuck,” you summarized eloquently.

He laughed, the sound low and rich. “That could be arranged.”

“Satoru.” You pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you. Because I’m me. Because there are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea.”

“I’m only hearing excuses.” He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Not actual reasons.”

And that was how it started — with blood and curses and kisses in dark hallways. With terrible ideas that felt too good to resist.

Keeping it secret was both easier and harder than you expected. Easier because everyone already knew how Satoru was — flirtatious, tactile, always pushing boundaries. No one questioned when he draped himself over your desk during meetings or appeared uninvited in your office and stayed for hours.

Harder because every moment felt like a lie of omission. Harder because you had to watch him walk into danger again and again, had to maintain professional distance when all you wanted was to grab him and never let go.

You stole moments where you could find them. Quick kisses in empty classrooms, heated encounters between missions, quiet nights in your apartment when the world thought he was somewhere else entirely.

It ate at you sometimes. Not because you wanted to announce it to the world, but because each moment felt borrowed, stolen from a future you might never have.

Every time he left for a mission, every time he faced another curse, you wondered if this would be it. If this would be the time your last memory of him would be a secret smile across a meeting room, a cryptic message that no one else understood. But then he’d come back, always with that insufferable smile, usually with some ridiculous story about how amazing he’d been.

He’d find ways to touch you in public that looked casual — a hand at the small of your back during briefings, fingers brushing as he passed you documents, his body angled toward yours in crowded rooms like a sunflower seeking light.

And the worst part? The absolute worst part was how good he was at pretending. How easily he maintained his public persona — the untouchable, unbeatable Satoru Gojo, who flirted with everyone and meant it with no one.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you in meetings with the same expression he gave everyone else, and for a moment, you’d wonder if you’d imagined everything between you.

But then night would fall, and he’d show up at your door with takeout and that soft smile he saved just for you. He’d kiss you like he was trying to apologize for every moment he had to pretend you were nothing special, like he was trying to prove that this, the two of you, was the only real thing in his world.

You never talked about the future. How could you? In your line of work, tomorrow was never guaranteed. Each mission could be your last, each kiss could be your goodbye. The closest you ever came to acknowledging it was in the desperate way he’d hold you after a close call, in the way you’d trace his features in the dark like you were trying to memorize them by touch.

Some nights, when sleep eluded you both, he’d tell you about the weight of being the strongest, about the exhaustion of being everyone’s last hope.

He’d whisper his fears into your skin — not of death or defeat, but of failing those who believed in him. Those were the moments when the great Satoru Gojo disappeared, leaving just Satoru, just a man who carried the world on his shoulders and made it look easy.

You lived for those moments. The quiet ones, the real ones, the ones where he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive but just yours. Just as you were his.

You carved out your own little infinity in the spaces between battles and duties. A secret world where his laugh wasn’t for show, where your touch wasn’t professional, where you could just be the two of you without the weight of expectations and reputations.

But infinity, as it turned out, had limits. Even his.

Looking at him now, preparing to face Sukuna with that same causality he brought to everything, you wondered if this was how your story was always meant to end. If all those stolen moments were just preparing you for this — one last morning, one last smile, one last chance to pretend tomorrow might come.

The world needed someone stronger, he said. But you needed him. And maybe that was the cruelest curse of all — loving someone the world needed more than you did.

"Promise me something," you said then.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you won't just give up. Promise me you'll fight to come back."

He pulled back slightly, reaching up to remove his blindfold. His striking blue eyes met yours, intense and clear.

"I promise," he said, "that everything I do today will be for a better tomorrow."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's the only promise I can make."

"Stop." Your voice turned sharp, anger finally breaking through. "Stop talking about tomorrow. Stop talking about the future and the next generation and whatever noble sacrifice you think you need to make. I don't care about any of that."

"Don't you?"

"No, I don't." You grabbed his jacket, fingers twisting in the fabric. "I don't care if the world needs someone stronger. I don't care if the next generation needs to step up. I care about you, you impossible man. I want you here, alive, with me. Is that so wrong? Am I not allowed to be selfish when it comes to you?"

"Huh." He caught your hands in his, but didn't pull them away from his jacket. "And here I thought you understood me better than anyone."

"Don't." You tried to pull away, but he held firm. "Don't you dare try to make this about understanding. I understand perfectly. But you're wrong. You don't have to do this."

His smile faltered slightly. "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple!" Your voice cracked. "You're choosing to make it complicated. You're choosing to walk away, to... to what? Make some grand statement about the future? Prove that the world can survive without the great Satoru Gojo?"

"Someone has to."

"But why does it have to be you?" The words burst out of you, raw and desperate. "Why do you have to be the one to show them? Why can't you just fight to win, to live, to come back to—" You cut yourself off, biting back the words that wanted to follow.

"To you?" he finished softly.

"Yes," you said, dropping your forehead against his chest. "To me. Call me selfish, call me short-sighted, I don't care. I want more mornings like this. More everything. More of you, being insufferably calm and making terrible jokes and acting like the world isn't ending when we both know it might be."

He was quiet for a moment, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than before.

"I can't promise to come back." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But know this, every moment with you has been worth fighting for. Worth living for."

You pulled back enough to look at him, really look at him. "Then fight for more moments. Fight to make more memories. Fight to come back to me, not for some greater purpose or stupid sacrifice, but because you want to."

"And if I told you that wanting isn't enough?"

"Then I'd call you a liar." Your voice turned cold. "Because you're Satoru fucking Gojo. When has anything ever been impossible for you? When have you ever let anyone tell you what you can't do?"

​​"This is different—"

"How? How is this different? Because it's Sukuna? Because it's the fate of jujutsu society? Or because you've already decided how this story ends?"

His hands tightened on you, and for a moment, just a moment, you saw something flicker behind those blue eyes — doubt, fear, longing, you couldn't tell. But then it was gone, replaced by that same calm certainty that made you want to scream.

"Because I can't protect everyone—can't protect you if I allow myself to believe in a tomorrow," he whispered.

The gentleness in his voice, the soft way he delivered words meant to cut, made you want to tear the world apart. It was so perfectly Satoru — to break your heart like he was doing you a favor, to wound you with a tenderness that felt more cruel than any violence could be.

"I never asked you to protect me," you said finally. "I asked you to stay. There's a difference."

"Is there?" His hand came up to cup your face, shaking ever so slightly, betraying the calm he fought so hard to maintain. "Because every time I look at you, all I can think about is how many people would use you to get to me. How many would hurt you just to prove they could touch something I care about."

"So your solution is to what? Die nobly? Make sure there's nothing left for them to use against you?"

"My solution is to make sure the world doesn't need me anymore." His thumb brushed across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "To make sure you don't need me anymore."

"That's not your choice to make. You don't get to decide what I need. You don't get to martyr yourself for some greater good and pretend it's for my protection."

"Then what would you have me do?" For the first time, there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "Ignore my responsibilities? Pretend I'm not who I am?"

"I would have you fight like you want to come back!" The words ripped from your throat. "Fight like there's someone waiting for you after. Fight like you love me as much as I love you!"

The confession rang out between you, and the moment it left your lips, you realized you'd never said it before. Through all the stolen moments, all the secret touches, all the nights you'd spent memorizing each other's bodies — you'd never actually spoken those words aloud.

You'd both danced around it, implied it in every action, every look, every unfinished sentence, but neither of you had ever dared to make it real with words.

Until now. Until you were angry enough, desperate enough, terrified enough to let it slip from your heart straight past your defenses.

"Love?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Of course I love you, you idiot." Your voice equally quiet. "Why else would I be standing here, begging the strongest sorcerer alive to be selfish just once?”

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, maybe a sob, his fingers tightening on you. "Don't," he whispered, and for the first time that morning, his voice was shaking. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Don't say things that make me want to—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "That make me want impossible things."

"Impossible? Since when does Satoru Gojo believe in impossible?"

"Since I realized being with you means putting you at risk." His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture achingly gentle. "Since I understood that staying alive isn't the same as keeping you safe."

"I hate this." You shook your head. "I hate how calmly you can stand here and talk about sacrifice like it's inevitable. Like there's no other way."

"Would you prefer if I fell apart?" His smile turned sad. "If I raged and cried and promised things I might not be able to keep?"

"Yes," you admitted, your hands coming up to cover his where they still held your face. "Because at least then I'd know you want to stay as much as I want you to."

"Oh, my love." The endearment fell from his lips like a confession. "Wanting to stay has never been the question. The question is whether I can live with myself if I do."

"And what about whether I can live with myself if you don't?" Your voice broke. "What about whether I can forgive myself for not fighting harder to make you stay?"

"This isn't your fight."

"Like hell it isn't." You pulled back. "You think I spent months learning to clear battlefields just so you could take center stage? You think I perfected my technique to complement your infinity because I had nothing better to do?" You dug your nails into your palms, throat tight with fury. "I've been fighting alongside you since before you ever kissed me in that hallway. Before you ever decided I was worth protecting. Don't you dare tell me this isn't my fight when I've spent years making sure you had the space you needed to be great."

He was quiet for a long moment, studying you. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. "And that's exactly why I need to go. The world doesn't need more people making space for me. It needs people who'll fill that space themselves."

You recoiled like he'd slapped you, hurt burning in your chest. "Is that what you think I've been doing? Making myself smaller for you? Made space for you because I was afraid to reach higher?" You stepped closer, deadly calm now. "I made space for you because that's what you do when you love someone."

His lips twitched into a smile. "So you do understand me."

"Don't pretend those are the same thing."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like goodbye. Like all the tomorrows you'd never have, all the moments you'd never share, all the promises neither of you could keep. You kissed him back with everything you had — all your fury and fear and love condensed into this one perfect, terrible moment.

His hands tangled in your hair like he was trying to memorize the feeling, yours gripping his jacket as if you could keep him here through sheer force of will. When you finally broke apart, hearts pounding, foreheads pressed together in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

"I'll hate you," you whispered against his lips. "If you don't come back, I'll hate you for the rest of my life."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, and for once, his smile held an edge of something raw, something that looked almost like pain. "No, you won't."

"I will." Your fingers tightened in his jacket. "I'll hate you for making me fall in love with someone who was always planning to leave. I'll hate you for every morning I wake up alone, for every mission briefing where someone else stands in your place, for every year I have to leave flowers on your grave."

"You'll move on. You'll find someone—"

"Fuck you," you cut him off, the words sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't you dare tell me how I'll feel. Don't you dare stand here and plan out my future without you in it."

"I'm just trying to—"

"To what? Prepare me? Make it easier? There's nothing easy about loving you, Satoru Gojo. There never has been. But I chose it anyway. Every day, knowing this moment would come."

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to say goodbye? Make it messy and painful and real?"

"I want you to stop pretending this is just another mission and show me something that tells me this is killing you like it's killing me."

The silence stretched between you like a chasm. For just a moment, beneath his careful composure, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the name — vulnerable, conflicted, maybe even afraid. But he buried it quickly, like he buried everything that might make him waver from his chosen path.

You'd always known this about him, hadn't you? Known it from that first bloody mission, from every fight where he'd put himself between the world and destruction.

Satoru Gojo was a man built for sacrifice, shaped by duty and power into something that could never truly belong to just one person. You'd fallen in love with him anyway, foolishly hoping that maybe love could be enough to make him choose differently.

But watching him now, seeing the gentle finality in every movement, you understood with crushing clarity that this was always how it would end. No amount of pleading or anger or love could change what he'd already decided.

He'd made his choice long before this morning, probably before he'd ever kissed you in that darkened hallway.

"Keep the tea warm for me," he said finally, stepping back. The words were casual, almost playful — exactly the kind of thing he'd say on any other morning. But that's what made it cruel. Even now, he was trying to soften the blow, pretending this was just another goodbye, just another mission.

You didn't say anything as he walked to the door. Didn't wish him luck or tell him to be safe. The time for those platitudes had passed.

Instead, you watched him pause in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. For a moment, you thought he might turn around, might drop the act and let you see something real. One last true moment before the end.

He didn't fully turn, but his voice carried back to you, soft and achingly sincere. "I love you. More than anything." A pause. "That's why I have to go."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You'd never expected them, had made peace with the silence between heartbeats where those words should have lived.

You'd imagined them differently, in all the quiet moments you'd shared — whispered against your skin in the dark, laughed into your mouth between kisses, murmured sleepily on lazy mornings. Not like this. Never like this.

How cruel, that he would finally say them now, when they felt more like a funeral rite than a confession. A parting gift from a man walking towards his own chosen end, making what should have been beautiful feel like another wound. The words you'd never dared hope for now hurt more than a lifetime of silence ever could.

Your throat burned with all the things you wanted to scream at him — about how love should mean staying, about how he was breaking your heart while trying to save it, about how dare he make those words sound like goodbye when they should have been a beginning.

"I hate you," you whispered.

He made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something more broken. "No, you don't." The certainty in his voice felt like another wound. "You love me. You said so yourself."

"I'll hate you." Your voice hardened with each word. "I'll hate you so much it'll make you wish you'd stayed."

His hand tightened on the doorframe, knuckles white with tension. For a heartbeat, you thought you'd finally cracked his composure. That he might turn around and choose you over duty, love over destiny.

He didn't.

The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded like an ending.

"But I'll wait for you anyway," you whispered to the empty room, hating yourself for the truth in those words.

The truth was, you'd always known it would end like this, known that loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who belonged to the world before he belonged to you.

But you'd been naive enough to hope. Foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, love could be enough to make him choose differently. That your selfish desire to keep him alive and whole could outweigh his selfless need to reshape the world.

The morning light cut across the empty room, highlighting the space where he'd stood moments before, and you wondered about the cruelty of it all.

Was it wrong to want to keep him here? To ask the strongest sorcerer alive to choose personal happiness over humanity's future? How many would suffer because you'd asked him to be selfish just this once?

But then again, how many had already been saved by him? How many times had he bled and broken and pieced himself back together for a world that only saw him as a shield, never as a man? Didn't he deserve the chance to live for himself, just once?

If love died today, buried six feet under noble intentions and greater goods, then maybe hate was all you had left. And wasn't there something pure in that? In hating him with the same intensity you'd loved him? In letting that hate fill the spaces he left behind, burning away the softness until all that remained was sharp edges and bitter truths?

The world needed Satoru Gojo the symbol, the untouchable god of jujutsu. But you'd needed Satoru, just Satoru, the man who brought you tea exactly how you liked it and kissed you like you were his everything. The man who was walking away, leaving you with nothing but memories and the taste of hate on your tongue.

Was it selfish to think your love was worth more than the world's need? Was it cruel to measure the weight of one heart against humanity's future?

Love and duty were never meant to be weighed against each other like this, weren't meant to be choices that tore a person in two. And perhaps that was the real tragedy — not that he was walking away, but that you'd let yourself believe he wouldn't.

You'd known how this story would end from that very first kiss. Had tasted it in every goodbye before a mission, felt it every time you waited anxiously for his return, seen it lurking behind every smile that never quite reached his eyes.

Loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who was always meant to be sacrificed. You'd just been naive enough to think sacrifice could look different, that it didn't have to end with you here, choking on love turned to ash in your mouth.

Your fingers traced your lips where those three words still lingered like a curse. The tea was getting cold on the windowsill. You should pour it out, make a fresh cup. Should start preparing for a world where Satoru Gojo was just a memory, a legend, a story of sacrifice and strength. Should learn how to breathe around the thorns growing in your chest where love used to live.

Instead, you stayed frozen, caught in the space between what was and what could have been. Because maybe he was wrong. Maybe the world didn't need someone stronger. Maybe it just needed him to come back. You certainly did.

But it was too late for maybes now. He was already gone, walking toward a destiny he'd chosen long before he'd chosen you. And you were left here, caught between hating him for leaving and loving him for exactly who he was — a man who would always choose the greater good, even when it shattered both your hearts.

But perhaps the cruelest irony was that in trying to protect humanity, he'd forgotten he was human too. That in becoming everyone's shield, he'd forgotten shields could break. That hearts could break. That yours was breaking.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, indifferent to your pain, indifferent to the way your world had just walked out the door with a smile and a promise he might not be able to keep.

You'd wait anyway. Even knowing how the story was meant to end, you'd wait. Because that's what love was — not just the beautiful parts, but the ugly parts too. The waiting. The hoping. The hating.

The choosing to love someone even when they choose something else. Even when that love turns to poison in your veins.

Even when they choose the world over you.

The tea had long gone cold when you finally moved, muscles stiff from standing still for so long. You'd sworn you wouldn't watch. Had promised yourself you wouldn't be there to see him die for his greater tomorrow.

But your hands were already reaching for your jacket.

Because that was the thing about loving Satoru Gojo — even when it turned to hate, even when it felt like acid in your throat, you couldn't look away. You'd watch him fight Sukuna. Watch him smile that infuriating smile as he chose the world one last time.

After all, you'd already promised to hate him if he didn't come back.

The least you could do was be there to keep that promise.

author's note — thank you for reading this little piece of heartbreak. i was very unsure if it will ever see the light of day but i finished it now bc i was in the mood for pain. if you enjoyed, i would greatly appreciate a reblog or comment. hope your heart isn't too broken <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[whtepony]

HEYYYY

acquainted was so fye twin 🙏

i was wondering if you could write something abt bakugo wanted to pick up chubby!reader (for wtv reason 😭) and reader being like “im too heavy” and katsuki’s just like “bitch what are you talking about. i’m katsuki bakugo.”

NEED this rn 💔💔

★ i need a hero!

ft. katsuki bakugo x chubby fem reader

warnings: idk chubby reader obv, dry humping, making out

notes: I LOVE MY MUTUALS HIIII !! responding to this immediately bc UGHHJ as a plus sized woman i just know he prefers big girls sorry. he’s so strong and could give less of a fuck abt your size. also i’m high rn so this got slutty sorry y’all

katsuki’s got you sat in his lap on your shared couch, his fingers massaging the plush skin of your thighs as you kissed. he’d often pull you to him like this as soon after a particularly long day; as soon as he’s in the door, he’s gotta have his hands on you. he shifts his grip to your ass, pulling you ever closer to him with a low groan into your mouth. it’s messy and intense and you can tell the dinner you’d made just before he got home would be cold by the time you both got to it. not that you minded at all with the way he ground your hips down onto him, feeling his cock stiffen beneath his hero costume.

you pant as you pull away for a moment, leaning your forehead against his and watching where your bodies met. he continued dragging you against his length, a hazy grin on his face at the sound of your whines. “m-missed you, suki,” you sighed, fingers carding through his blonde locks. he groaned in response, nipping at your neck. “missed ya more, princess,” he says hurriedly, kiss-bitten lips slotting against yours once again. “can’t believe i ever left. shit’s stupid.”

you giggled breathlessly at his attitude, knowing he loved his job more than anything (well, maybe besides this). “it was nine hours, baby, we do this every day-“ you’re cut off by your own gasp as his hips buck into your own, a low laugh rumbling from your husband’s chest. “doesn’t mean i gotta like it.” he gruffs, sliding his arms beneath you and shifting his weight to the front of the couch cushion.

“don’tttt, i’m too heavy!” you yelp, smacking his chest as you try to wiggle out of his grasp. katsuki laughs again, raising his eyebrows at you in disbelief. “you’re what now?”

“i said i’m too heavy, let go so i can walk! i don’t want you to get hurt-“

“oh, so ya think i’m weak now, is that it?”

you frown, furrowing your eyebrows in frustration. he always had a way of challenging you on things like this that just made your concerns feel silly - and, well, most of the time they were. “you know that’s not what i mean, suki, shut uppp,” you groaned, crossing your arms over your chest. “nah, you shut up,” he murmured against the skin of your neck, kissing and licking his way up to your ear. “‘nd let me carry ya to bed so i can remind you how easy it is for me to toss ya around.”

yeah, maybe sometimes you forget how strong katsuki really is, but he’ll be sure to remind you.

[pinkthrone445]

Do you have ao3? Also can you continue my wife? 🥺 I almost cried but i dont know in which part. If it's because of the story or because it's unfinished or i got left hanging. But Great work though 👏

Hiii! I don't have ao3, my girlfriend explained to me what it was because I had no idea honestly, I was even researching a little of it, but I prefer more tumblr because I feel it more personal.

Thank you for the comment, I really love this kind of interaction 🥺✨

-My wife- Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader-Agatha Harkness x Rio

Gender:soft, hurt

Warnings: insults and mention of death. Spoilers from the series.

Summary: after loosing your wife, you beg the witch to take you to the road to find her. But with no hope of finding her, you want to come back home.

You sighed looking at the notebook in your hands, since you had been sent to do a report on the hex when it started expanding and you got trapped inside, that was going to be your great opportunity to do your great report and go famous on the news side, but since Wanda retired from the city and released everyone from her control, you no longer had your main source or your main character and it was more difficult to make the story happen.

Frustrated by not knowing how to follow your report, you put your notebook in your bag and continued with your grocery shopping

-"Hello... Did you find everything you needed?" - a kind lady asked you from the cash register while you put your items on the band. You looked up and she smiled, she had a delicate but mischievous smile and her light eyes sparked with the stores lights. You squinted your eyes to read her name tag since you were not using your glasses. "Agnnes" a sweet name

-"Y-yes" - for some reason your voice trembled-"Thank you... Can you add some gum please?" - You didn't knew why but you made your voice sweeter than how you usually talked and she nodded.

When you finished paying, you went to where you were staying to eat the junk food and the chips you bought and try to keep writing your notes, but not matter how many times you checked your purse or the bags, you couldn't find your notebook with all your important notes.

Before the tears of desesperation could fill your eyes, you started to retake your previous steps hoping to find it somewhere, but when you got to the store, the doors were already closed.

Defeated, you came back home, praying to God that your notebook would be there tomorrow.

The next day you went back to the store before they could open the doors to the people, your heart racing with nerves, yesterday's frustration still lingering on your body. Wanda was gone and if you lost that book all your first handed Intel would be gone too.

Your leg bounced on the concrete looking at the doors and your reflection on it. Agnes, the cashier from the day before stood beside you looking at the close doors

-"What are we looking for?" - she asked leaning closer to you and you turned to look at her

-"Agnes..."-her name sounded so sweet on your lips-"I lost something yesterday and I think is here... I hope is here" - Your voice sounded like a plea to the gods

-"What did you loose?" - she asked with worry on her eyes

-"A black notebook with some silly drawings on the cover... It has my notes for work and I had some important Intel on it and I need it"-You really sounded desperate

-"Intel on what?" - she asked curious

-"On some local news... You know, the kidnapping of the whole town and all... You don't remember if yesterday someone brought you a lost notebook?" - You looked into her eyes and she held her bag tighter

-"I shouldn't let people from the outside come in before we open, but follow me, let's check the lost and found" - she took your hand and pulled you to the side of the store. Her fingers where holding you tight and that made you smile a little, her hands were soft and they had the perfect size to hold yours.

She opened the side door and pulled you inside with her, looking for the office without letting you go.

When you finally got there, she pulled a box from the closet and put it on top of a desk, letting you search for the notebook without any luck.

She stared at your face, looking how your eyes got watery when you searched the box for the second time hoping that it would appear

-"Hey..."-she took your hand again stopping your search-"Let's check the store together..."-she whispered and you nodded. Even at the risk of losing her job if someone looked at the cameras and saw that she had let someone from outside the company in before they even opened, she helped you look for the notebook all over the store.

-"I think I got it!!"-she yelled and you ran towards her, when you saw her holding your notebook proudly on her hands, you let out a loud yelling of happiness and hugged her tightly

-"Oh my god! You are a life saver Agnes!" - You couldn't stop holding her and she laughed

-"How do you know my name? I've never told you... And I don't know yours either now that I think about it..."-she whispered and you let her go laughing a little embarrassed when she handle you the notebook

-"I saw it yesterday on your name tag... I'm (Y/N) by the way... Thank you so much for this..."-you looked at the book in your hand and she smiled

-"Lovely name..." - she whispered looking at your smile and you blushed a little under her intense gaze

-"Do you want want to go for a coffee? It's on me..."-you boldly offered and she smiled sadly

-"I have to work..."-she answered and you felt a little disappointed without knowing why

-"Rigth, of course, I'm sorry" - You tried to quickly excuse yourself

-"But my shift finish at 6... Maybe we can go for dinner?" - she asked and your smile grew

-"I would love that" - You wrote your number on a piece of paper from your notebook and gave it to her-"See you soon, thank you again!" - You smiled and let her go on with her day.

That first dinner was surprisingly good, the conversation seemed to have no end and she picked an excellent spot that you haven't seen before in that small town. She was sarcastic and funny, she knew how to flirt and she was charming and gorgeous and you couldn't get enough of her.

So after that nigth, after a couple days, you came back to her store to buy something only to have an excuse to see her again and talk to her. And then you repeatedly did the same until you started dating.

After a year together you got married and moved to Agnes' house, and a year after that, you started the process to have a baby together.

At some point along the way, you didn't know exactly when, you realized that she was a witch. If you connected the dots that she lived almost next door to where the scarlet witch was but still didn't remember her, or that some of her books at home were in Latin and talked about spells, or that she herself did a "joke" spell before you got pregnant and it worked... It seemed very obvious what she was...But she seemed like a nice witch.

You as a reporter got interested in her and started to study all the books that she had and all the story behind her, you found out that she was Agatha Harkness a powerful old witch, but for you she was your sweet and perfect Aggy.

When she started to get lost in her own mind, you used all the things you had learned to break her spell, and when your Aggy was lost behind the powerful Agatha Harkness, you used the song of the road that she used to sing to your belly, to try to bring her back again.

But now you were stuck on the stupid road with no hopes of bringing her back and no idea how to get back home.

You took your notebook with spells out of your pocket and you saw how it was filled with memories, notes, phrases and information all involving Agatha... All the things you investigated for her and now she couldn't even remember you or cared about you being pregnant or about what you have done for her. Rage and sadness filled your body and you throw the book away, seeing how it fell outside of the road and the dirt consumed it. You signed and sat on the dirt, desperate tears filled your eyes and and you hug your legs

-"I want to get out..."-you whispered between sobs

-On the other side of the road-

-"Hughhh, stop it!" - Agatha yelled grabbing her head, she didn't knew how, but every time you thought about something or remembered anything, she could feel it on her head too and that was really anoying to her, her mind was usually so calm and yours was so loud.

-"Agatha... Let's go bact to her, I think we need her, we've been walking for hours and we have no test ahead, clearly the road wants her with us..."-Lilia said worried about you being alone

-"The road is bullshit..."-she murmured between her teeth-"Let's sleep a little, we can keep going in a few hours" - she said firmly and nobody dared to say anything else about it because they were scared of making her more angry.

While everyone slept, Agatha thouth about you, specially about the baby, she didn't knew if you were telling the truth but she was intrigued about it, if she started a family with you, you must be really important to her, important enough to move on after all this time.

A glimpse of something shiny on the middle of the road cough her eyes, she stood up and grabbed a dusty notebook, your notebook. She recognized it immediately because you had it all the time in your hands. When she open it, the first thing she saw was a lyrics of a song, her original song that she used to sing with Nicky. The only other person that knew that song was her and Rio, but apparently she sang that song to you at some point and you save it on your notes.

She also saw full paragraphs about her, a drawing of her pin, notes about enchantments, a list of songs and baby names... Baby names, she remembered picking baby names with you a few days ago when the pregnancy test came out positive, she remembered you on the bathroom of the house, crying and hugging her.

She kept reading the book, it was like a diary about your and her life together, every important thing was inside it, even a few pictures, including ones of the wedding you had. You seemed so happy with her, nobody has never smiled so much because of her, and in all the pictures she was smiling even bigger looking at you. Her heart started clenching more each time she read a new page, she could feel your love in your notes, until she reached one in particular

"Even if you don't recognize me anymore and you don't remember the love you had for me, the love I have will cover for the both of us..."

She remember when you told her that when she tried to kick you out of the house and that made a clic on her head, Agatha remembered, finally she remembered everything.

How you met, that spark, your first time together, when you got married, when you decided to have the baby and how you took care of her when she started to loose it...

She remember how you stayed by her side always. Even when she no longer recognized you, and unless you followed the silly illusion her head was living in, she wasn't able to see or hear you either, you stayed. Even though she no longer knew who you were, you made a vow with her and wanted to take care of her while she was "sick", so you found a way to help her eat or shower. You pretended to be a waitress and tell her she was on a restaurant so she would eat her food and pretend to be a masseur on a spa so she would shower. Agatha remember that, remembered your care and your worry even when she treated you badly, she remembered your love for her...she remembered all that and fell for you again, she finally remembered her love for you.

-"Fuck!" - she closed the book feeling like an asshole

-"They are coming!" - Lilia woke up scared, telling the others that the Salem seven where close. Agatha grabbed her coat

-"Let's go, we need to find her before they can hurt her" - she ordered and the others followed her.

-On your side of the road-

After a few minutes of crying you also fell asleep and when you woke up, you were no longer on the road, you were on your confy bed, hugged by the covers. You sighed in relief and snuggled more into the comfort of the mattress thinking that all that had hapend was just a bad dream

-"Are you planning on staying on that bed all day?" - a deep voice took you out of your peaceful place and you sat on the bed scared to see Rio sitting at the edge of it. If you were still on a dream, she was a completely nightmare following you everywhere

-"How did I got here? What are you doing here? What do you want? If you want Agatha go ahead, I don't care anymore"-saying those words made your heart hurt, but you were tired of trying to get love from the witch with no results at all

-"She hates me, she doesn't want to be with me or see me... Remember that conversation around the fire? she is my scar... I don't know if you know this but we had a son together many many years ago... But he was sick and it was my fault, I tried to give them more time together and she tried to keep him away from me, but eventually I had to do my job and he had to come with me... Agatha never forgave me for it and I didn't forgave myself either..."-she talked with her serious face as always and you couldn't avoid the feeling that you were in danger with her close

-"If you want me to feel sorry for you, telling me that you had to kill your son, it's not helping..."-you whispered

-"I took you out of the road..."-she confessed and surprised you-"You wanted to get out and the Salem seven where very close to you while you slept so I took you out... Because Agatha wouldn't forget me ever if I had to take another one of her children away... Or her wife..."-the word wife was painful to her, you were having the life that they could never had, but she would do anything to see Agatha happy

-"That's... Thank you..."-you didn't knew what to said, you figured that she was death itself when she told you that she was "THE" green witch, but she was bending the rules of life for Agatha

-"Don't... Just take care of her okay?... And close that fucking door to the "road", like now"-she order and you stood from the bed

-"How do you want me to do that? I have no powers..."-you asked confused

-"You created it, you can close it... Or he can, you just have to let his powers control you again" - she told you pointing to your almost invisible belly. The baby was made from Agatha's spell, it made sense that you had power while he was inside you. When you turned to look at her, she was gone already.

Still confused, you ran to the basement and grabbed a piece of chalk and a few candles, remembering the spells that you had studied, you started to repeat the Latin words over and over until you saw the door desapear. Tired and a little confused of what you were capable of, you sat at the floor trying to catch your breath, hoping that Agatha and the others would find a way out.

Meanwhile inside the road, Agatha and the others were running looking for you and screaming your name when she noticed how the sky of the road started to shrink and how the trees beside them began to desapear, little by little everything started to fade around them

-"Fuck! Off the road! Let's go to the mud people, let it swallow you" - Lilia yelled, she saw this happening before and she knew what they had to do even if she didn't knew why. Although they were not quite sure if Lilia was in her right mind on that moment, they decided to listen as it seemed to be the only possible option. They all waded into the mud and fell under the road right next to an exit, using it to escape safely just in time before the place collapsed behind them

-"Well... That happened..."-the protection witch said breathing heavily

-"Its this another test?" - The potion witch asked

-"I think we are truly out..."-Lilia said.

Apparently they had come out in some underground construction and Agatha didn't waste a second in running out looking for a way out to see if she could find you

-"What about the end of the road?!" - they asked running behind her

-"I don't care about that, I need to find my wife!" - The purple witch screamed and when she finally got outside and saw that they weren't so far away from her house, she breathe out in relief. Immediately she went to the house, and when she was about to open the backyard door, the color left her skin when the door opened alone and she saw death itself leaving the house, Agatha couldn't avoid imagining the worse, that she was there to claim your body because you couldn't get out of the road in time

-"Please no..."-The witch begged her ex lover, but the green witch just walked away without saying anything else. Agatha opened the door with shaky hands and the others followed her closely

-"Aggy! Lilia! You are all okay!" - Your voice pierced their ears as your body crushed against them hugging them all taking them by surprise

-"I thought I lost you" - Agatha's voice was broken, vulnerable as she hugged you alone, closer to her-"I thought I had lost you after being an asshole to you, I... I'm sorry... I remember you, all you did for me, I remember how much we love each other, how much I love you" - she whispered pressing her forehead against yours and letting one of her hands rest against your belly. You smiled feeling safe and happy again. But your happiness ended quickly when you saw how the sky turned gray

-"Oh no... They got out too" - Lilia said watching how the Salem seven where walking down the street

-"Look guys, this is my fight, you don't need to be here... " - Agatha said but got interrupted

-"This is not the time to be good Agatha after being a bitch all this time..."-Jennifer said

-"We will protect you... After all that's what convens are for" - Alice said looking at you and then at Agatha- "I will blast you... Just don't take it all..."-she said and the purple witch nodded...

-9 months later-

-"He is gorgeous..."-Lilia said holding your baby on her arms for the first time. The little baby held her fingers in his little hand watching all the women around hin

-"He is, but now it's time for Aunty Aliceee to hold himmm" - The protection witch said excited in a pitchy voice while you watched them from your hospital bed

-"No! I was the second one to hold David, come on!" - Jennifer started fighting with the other witches making you laugh. You named your baby in honor of your neighbor that you lost on the road.

-"Love come here..."-you whispered to Agatha who was looking outside from the window. She gave a last look and closed the blinds smiling at you-"Are you okay?" - You asked and she nodded, happy to see that death was nowhere to be seen meaning that you and the baby where healthy and safe

-"Never better, I got everything that I need rigth here" - she kissed your forehead and hugged you protectively whispering sweet things on your hear.

[revelboo]

First part of my blokees shipment is in the country, u really are a master planner of propaganda 😂

I'll showcase what I scored if anything fun comes up

Nice! They’re just so little and cute

It Had To Be You Pt 11

TFO Megatron x Reader

• Venting softly as he notices your unfinished food, he grits his denta. This again? What exactly do you hope to accomplish by refusing to eat? Mass shifting, he bends to pick up the full tray and stalks your way, optics narrowing as you tense like you’re considering bolting. “Don’t you dare,” he growls and your eyes narrow in answer. Lunging to hook an arm around your middle as you scramble to your feet to run anyway. He’d almost swear you enjoy this game, struggling angrily against his grip as he sits heavily with you across his lap. “Stop acting like a sparkling.”

• “I’m not hungry,” you snap, trying to kick the tray out of his other hand as he pins you against him, a palm splayed against your belly, servos flexing on you. Fighting even though you know what’s coming. Feeling it buzz through you to lift the fine hair at the your nape when he snarls. You’re pretty sure he’s swearing at you in Cybertronian as he drops the tray with a clatter and pins you more firmly against his chassis, his chin resting on top of your head and all the fight just drains out of you as he holds you, his arms curling around you like a lover would. Your body and mind at odds with each other. One whispering that this is where you belong, the other screaming. “I’m not hungry,” you repeat, the words sounding sullen even to your own ears. You’re just so tired of hating him and needing him. It’s like you’re coming apart day by day fighting him and yourself.

• “You’ll eat anyway,” he growls, spark constricting as you just lay against him, hating that it’s like this. That you’re like this even as he understands why. Reaching to tug the tray closer, he picks up a strip of cooked meat and offers it to you, holding it an inch from your lips as you tense against him. “I’ll hold you down if I have to.” It’s a threat, but it’s sincere. You can find some other way to rebel against him besides trying to starve yourself. Sighing, you open up for him, lips brushing the tips of his servos as you take the bite to make him shudder. “Is being here so awful?” He doesn’t mean to ask, because your anger can only hurt him and he knows it. Is it so much to ask for you to feel anything for him? Any affection, not just physical need?

• “I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here.” It’s a lie and you know it. Even if he let you go, you’re not sure that you could make yourself walk away from him. That longing pulling at you, would stop you in your tracks. And even if you somehow forced yourself to keep going, to run? That warmth that’s him would fade away to just leave a hollow ache over time. Missing something you’d never even wanted to begin with. Trapped by something you don’t understand. The arm still curled around you tenses, but he doesn’t have an angry comeback this time, just silently offers you another bite of food. Venting against your neck as you let him feed you, hurting because all of this is wrong. The safety you feel in his arms, his fake concern, it’s all a lie to trap you.

Previous

[daenysx]

Okay blurb req for old money!Aemond who is ALSO a model for really expensive brands and his gf is a photographer👀 inspired by the photoshoot and that one specific blue leopard print pic🙂‍↕️🤭

oh my god i hope i did well, thank you, rue !! <33333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

cw; modern!aemond being a hopeless romantic, suggestive, kisses, no but he's really so in love it hurts, photographer!reader and model!aemond can be a new favorite wow

"are you sure this is professional?"

aemond has no shame, honestly. you don't think you can be expected to be 'professional' when your boyfriend looks like he'll ruin your entire existence by looking like the most charming being in the entire universe.

his blue eyes sparkle in the latest photos you take, a stark contrast with his platinum blonde hair. flowy strands make you want to pull aemond to yourself enough to give him a good kiss on his neck as your fingers travel in his hair. maybe you can do that when you get to be alone with him. oh, you'll definitely do that when you're alone.

"i believe i'm extremely professional." you murmur, holding his hand to make him pose the way you want. "if you stop being so distracting, it'll be even better."

he smirks. a small quirk of lovely lips, he's handsome and he knows it. he leans into your space and your hold on your camera tightens. you will not kiss him. you can't, there are other people here, and this is business. you take a step back.

"i'm only doing what you tell me to do." he says like he's the most innocent man. "you can't say i'm not being good."

you give him a small smile. he's in the mood for playing.

"i didn't say that." you say, quietly. "come on, a few more for me and we'll be done."

aemond fixes his posture, your one hand still holding his. "of course." he says, coolly. "you know i can actually be good for you. as many as you want, you'll have it."

you lick your lips to control your face expressions. not the time, not the place. just like you say to him, only a few more and you'll be done.

the clothes he's wearing make aemond look taller as if it's actually possible. you admire his poses, his confidence and his awareness of how good he looks. he turns his head for another picture, his eyes following your every move. it's like a wordless conversation between you two.

"can i get one with a smile?" you ask him, your hand directing his last pose. "not too wide, just- a subtle one, please."

"i'm afraid that's not possible if i'm going to give you a smile." he flirts. "maybe you should let someone else take the photo if you need a subtle one."

you hear two girls giggling at the corner. he really thinks he's so fun, doesn't he? it's his world here, he knows how to charm his way and he certainly knows how to be a flirt. you're thankful he's already yours, it would be impossible to handle him otherwise.

after another fifteen minutes, you're all done. you go next to aemond, leaving your camera. people around you move quickly to clean up the place, and fix all the mess that has been made. aemond takes your hand to brush a kiss on your knuckles. his eyes are warm this time, so clear under this lights.

"what do you think?" he asks. "good?"

you nod softly. "probably the best in a long time."

"kind of hard not to." he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer. "i had the best photographer."

you give him a kiss on his cheek but that's all. he's been teasing you all day long. "do you flirt with all your photographers like this, mr. targaryen?"

"absolutely not." he answers, cheekily. "my flirting skills are reserved for only one person."

"i think you owe me a drink." you tell him. "even working is easier than trying to deal with your incessant teasing."

"we'll have dinner first." he says, kissing the side of your head. he doesn't say, but he's tired. "think of what you want to eat when i'm changing, okay? i have a few options if you can't decide."

[senmiyaazx]

WAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HAD JUST PLAYED THE NEW UPDATE AND THE BAD ENDING KILLED ME. I WANT TO PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH MY COMPUTER BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE IT'S TOO EXPENSIVE 😭 I'LL NEVER LOOK AT AXES AND CROWE THE SAME EVER AGAIN

sorry for being overdramatic that ending really hurt me and i love crowe 😢

can you write crowe and reader's date after they got together in day 1? let's say Sol didn't find out when crowe and reader kissed so crowe gets to live (not for long tho)

i just wanted a peaceful love life with Jericho Ichabod 😭

CROWE X GN READER

spoilers for the update (bad ending)

a/n: an au where mc remembers all the saves they've done and knowing that they'll never be able to reciprocate crowe's feelings without putting him in danger would make pretty good angst ngl.

cw: slight angst (I'm sorry I couldn't help it). overall very fluffy. i think. reader is lowkey a simp.

bonus fanart at the end!

---------

He's so pretty it hurts. Pretty like the way his braided hair fell gracefully on his shoulders. Pretty like the ethereal glow that kissed his tan skin in the afternoon sun. Pretty, like his sapphire irises that gazed at you with such fondness that it made your heart ache.

Fuck. He's so beautiful and you're sure he's aware of it.

"(Name)? Are you okay?" He asks as if you'll ever be okay when he looks at you like that.

After that night— that one special night that might as well be one of your core memories. It was your first kiss. With Crowe. The guy you thought would never reciprocate your feelings. The man who liked you longer than you did.

Crowe.

And now, it's just you two in your comfort spot. The school garden. After that night he invited you here. For what? A date? Gee, is he trying to kill you or something?

It was already difficult enough to face him after.. well, the kiss. Now he decided to invite you to somewhere private. Just the two of you. Crowe and I.

It's weird thinking like that. It feels weird to put your name beside Crowe, even if you've discreetly written your name next to him with a heart multiple times on your notebook.

And yet you still called yourself a mere 'admirer'. How naive could you get?

Ah, well, it doesn't matter now. You sat next to him on the ground with your heart threatening to burst out of your chest, and you're stiffer than a damn wall.

Don't look at me like that. You think. Don't you dare give me that look. That concerned, caring face he always gave you when you're feeling incredibly warm and your heart is seconds away from going into cardiac arrest. Can you stop being so handsome?

"(Name)," Crowe repeats, bringing you back to reality. "Are you okay?"

You take a deep breath. Maybe you're being too dramatic, acting like a teenage girl with her first crush. Or maybe Crowe just has that effect on you. Can you really blame yourself? He's like a prince for fuck's sake. "Yeah. Don't worry."

His brows furrowed, unconvinced. "Loosen up a little, won't you? You act like we're strangers." His tone takes on a more playful one, hoping to lighten the mood. "We've known each other for a year.. yet you're still so nervous around me." He grinned. His hand reaches out to brush a stray hair away from your face, the warmth from his touch lingering. What a tease.

"Not my fault you're so handsome.." You crossed your arms with a huff. "Seriously. If being pretty was illegal you'd be a criminal." You weren't even aware of what you're saying at this point. You've gotten so comfortable with Crowe that you simply didn't care what you say in front of him.

He blinks, staring at you as you continued to mumble under your breath. Cute. He thinks. You're way too cute sometimes.

He leaned in closer, a teasing grin on his face. "You think I'm that pretty?"

You stop mumbling, turning to face him only to be jumpscared because of how close he was. "What the- Of course I do!" You lean away from him, cheeks warm. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who thinks that way. Aren't you aware of the letters you received on Valentine's day?"

He smiled at this, backing away to give you space. "Of course I was." He paused, studying your figure with a warm gaze. "But you know I only had eyes for you on that day."

Your chest tingled, remembering the chocolate you gifted to him. You didn't expect he'd have a gift of his own for you too. Back then, you always thought he'd forget about you one day.

He never did.

"Corny." Yet you couldn't help the smile that crept to your lips, contrasting your words. He let out a chuckle at that to which you responded with a light punch to his shoulder.

A long silence settled comfortably between you two for a while. Simply basking in each other's presence, taking in the peaceful scenery with him. Despite the silence, it was enough for you. Being with him was enough.

And you couldn't help but voice it out loud. "I'm so glad to be with you."

He's caught off guard by that, but quickly regains his composure as he intertwined your fingers together with the softest smile you've ever seen.

"Me too."

Heavens, you love him. So damn much.

So please let this moment last forever.

---------

bonus cuz i love Crowe so much

not the best art I've done but i really wanted to do this to give myself motivation to write:) and also i wanted an excuse to draw him even though i already have a w.i.p of him lol

[trixy812]

Can I request an instance where jjk men have been busy lately and y/n sees jjk men out with another woman (she doesn't know the woman is a relative or coworker) and y/n shoots at them and just barely misses. 😂😂😂 preferably Toji, Sukuna and Shiu? I feel like those men would be the only ones that would be secretly turned on by their girl shooting at them

╰┈➤ JJK Men haven’t spent time with you and suddenly you see them with another woman.

୨ৎContent: suggestive, jealousy, toxic behavior, Female!Reader,

୨ৎAn: omgomgomg, this is my first request EVER and it’s from my twiniii <3! I am very happy about this and I really hope you like it and I just hope this is the beginning for a long a cool internet friendship <3 <3 btw, the end of Gojo's was inspired from a parks&recs blooper (Gojo has Andy Dwyer energy). I have to say that writing Toji and Sukuna was really hard, i hope I did justice to all of them.

୨ৎIncl: Toji, Sukuna, Gojo, Nanami

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡‧₊˚

It’s been almost two weeks without a hug or a kiss from your boyfriend. Although you’ve kept in touch daily through texts and calls, intrusive thoughts won’t stop tying a knot in your stomach. While walking down empty streets, you finally decide to focus on what your student Mai is telling you, hoping to clear your mind. But it’s impossible. Your anxious mind keeps conjuring up clichéd scenes: "What if he’s cheating on me?"

As if fate wanted to mock you, a few meters ahead, you see your boyfriend escorting an attractive woman to a taxi. You freeze in place, and Mai asks if everything’s alright. You watch the taxi drive away, while the knot in your stomach ignites, ready to make you explode. Without a second thought, you grab Mai's gun, not giving her a chance to react, and shoot at your dear — and potentially unfaithful — boyfriend. You miss.

ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ❀ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ❀ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ❀ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! ❀ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ!

Toji

Toji is surprised, but he’s having the time of his life. He doesn’t feel intimidated in the slightest. He stares at you, raising an eyebrow with a mocking smile.

“Seriously? Jealous of my coworker?” he asks, trying to embarrass you.

"Coworker, my ass!" you yell, your face completely flushed.

Toji laughs, and although he’d never admit it, he feels flattered by your jealousy. He slowly steps closer to you.

“If you wanted to practice your aim, at least do it right” he says, spinning you around to embrace you from behind. With a provocative smile, he guides your hand to press the gun against his temple “I think this is the only way you’d ever hit your target.”

His taunting only fuels your anger.

“Relax, you have no competition” he whispers playfully in your ear, tightening his hold on you, pressing you against him. You can immediately feel his boner, which shocks you enough to drop the gun. He laughs wholeheartedly and let go of you as if nothing had happened.

Sukuna

Though he’s irritated, Sukuna is thoroughly entertained. He gives you that intense look you know well, one that shows he doesn’t like being challenged.

“Did you try to hurt me? How adorable” he says, his tone dry and dangerous “Are you insane?”

“You bastard! You’re the one who drives me insane with your stupid antics. Now, who the hell is she?” you scream as loud as your lungs allow.

Sukuna lets out a mocking, sarcastic laugh, enjoying the scene. Deep down, he feels flattered by your intensity, though he’d never admit it. He steps closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Jealous? Really? I don’t have time for this nonsense” he says, pulling back with a sinister smile. Turning his back on you, he dares you to react again. He glances over his shoulder, throwing you a challenging look “Maybe you do have reasons to be jealous, who knows?”

Each word only makes your blood boil more. You approach him with clenched fists.

“Maybe you should be more worried. Maybe she really was someone special” he says, provoking you even further.

You can’t take it anymore and throw a punch at him, which he catches easily. With his other hand, he entangles his fingers in your hair, tugging gently but firmly, tilting your face toward his.

“Calm down, darling. No one else compares to you” he whispers, with that blend of mockery and defiance.

Gojo

Although he saw the shot coming (I mean with the six eyes… duh), the sound of the gunfire still startles Gojo.

“Wow, that was a refreshing scare!” he says with a grin, treating it as a joke.

“I’m only going to ask you once: who is she?” your voice comes out louder than expected.

Gojo is thrilled, loving the spectacle of seeing you angry and jealous. Using his cursed energy, he makes the bullet float in front of you, mocking you.

“Babe, the bullet didn’t even come close enough to activate my Infinity” he jokes, trying to lighten the moment “Good thing hand-to-hand combat is your strength because your aim is terrible”

You shoot him a death glare, and that hits its mark. Gojo smiles, approaching playfully. He deactivates his technique and wraps you in a hug to calm you down.

“Come on, you know I only have eyes for you” he assures, hoping to see you smile before letting go.

Although you do smile, the irritation lingers. Taking advantage of his deactivated technique, you slap him.

“Do it again” he says, totally captivated, and you oblige with another slap. He writhes in sinuous movements, as if his entire body is struggling to escape an invisible hold.

“Do you have a… boner?” you ask, noticing his reaction.

He doesn’t respond, but it’s obvious. You smile, incredulous.

"Duuuuuuuuuuuude!" you shout, turning around and walking away

"No one has slapped me before" he stands there, beaming stupidly.

Nanami

Nanami sighs, adjusts his glasses, and looks at you with disapproval.

"You shot at me? Seriously?" he says calmly.

Without losing his composure, he steps closer as a few tears roll down your cheeks.

"If you have something to say, I’d rather you say it than shoot at me" he says, surprised but trying to understand.

"I haven’t seen you in two weeks! And when I finally do, it’s by chance…" you shout, not caring if anyone hears. "And with another woman! What the hell, Kento?"

"I don’t think a scene is necessary. That woman is my cousin" he replies, not trying to invalidate your feelings, only to clarify. "You know I’d never do anything to make you doubt me."

He steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. You’ve missed him so much that you throw yourself into his arms as if you’ll never let go. In that embrace, Nanami realizes just how much his absence has affected you.

"I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. I’m sorry for not being there" he hugs you back, kissing the top of your head and gently running his fingers through your hair "You’re important to me, and if you want more time together, that’s exactly what we’ll have."

≽^- ˕ -^≼

Mai sighs in exasperation, watching the scene while retrieving her gun.

"And I’m supposed to look up to this person?"

[fairytsuk1]

Fr thinking ab getting hella teased by alex 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

alex teasing you <3

alex and you are too busy being enveloped in each other to care about anything else on this soft, slow night. his hand glides up your outer thigh and plants itself right on your plush ass. alex's bulge rub against your clothed pussy when he tugs you closer by the waist; you mewl against his lips for more.

ducking away during the kiss to let out a giggle while shyly smiling at your wanting gaze, "you know you're spoiled, right?"

your bottom lip is plump as it sticks out in a playful pout. obviously you were spoiled! with alex as your boyfriend, with his card easily accessible, with his dick hard and leaking; you were almost more than spoiled. you were a princess.

"no, i'm not."

"yeah, you are! you can't handle if i even tease you a little," your period of silence gives him room to bite back first and tilt your hips with his strong hands after. "am i right?"

"no, you´re not! i can handle it, tease me all you want."

you challenged his authority without really absorbing the fact that you had already lost the minute you gave in to alex´s whims. you stood in your bra and panties before alex--manspreading on the edge of the bed. you were really starting to regret your choice of words.

"alex—"

"hey, you said to tease you all you want. that's what i'm doing! do a little twirl for me, baby."

your face is flushed and burns as you swivel on your feet. his power play is clear as he sits fully clothed while you expose more and more of your seductive body to him. he sees your desperation in the way your legs cross and your thighs squeeze together.

"sit on my lap," alex hums lazily with a knowing smirk.

you're instantly moving to crawl into your favorite seat; rolling your hips against him with a relieved and aching sigh. he stops you with a firm grip that leaves your jaw dropping in protest. alex tuts and effectively silences you with a mere sound.

he rewards you with a handsy kiss, one hand tugging you so close that you might fuse into him and become one. he's so greedy in the way his palms keep skirting down to grab handfuls of your cheeks. a loud smack mixes with your boyfriend's light laughter, which draws a keening gasp from you.

"alex!"

"what? was that too hard?"

he checks in with a low tone, brown eyes searching yours and only finding your horniness instead. it clearly didn't hurt at all, and based on how your soaked pussy grinds against his dick with even more fervor, you clearly wanted more. a nimble finger drags against the skin of your outer thigh, stopping at your knee before the pendulum dips the other way, and he's running a hand up your thigh to grope your butt. your moan is soft and seeking forgiveness, "please, alex. just touch me."

"touch you... where?"

"you know what i mean," and you're such a brat as you say it. like a direct command. "i'm so wet for you, just c'mon!"

"i'm just not getting it," and he smiles in your face before a sneaky hand comes to grab at your chest. "you mean, here?"

his fingers rub at your pebbling nipples as he peers at you with a curious look. he asks you to clarify again while tugging at your chest and you let out a defeated wail, "alex, please, i-i want you. you know that's not what i meant...!"

shoving his face into your chest and moaning was typical. you suck air in between your teeth while your back forms a most beautiful curve into alex's chest.

"fine, you spoiled brat," it's muffled as he plants a hickey on the column between your tits. "i'll give you what you want."

[muffinsin]

i just read this post

https://www.tumblr.com/muffinsin/739024633405308928/anon-here-my-fav-is-bela-though-i-totally-get

about gp! dimi sisters giving reader just the tip and i loved it!!! so if it’s okay and if not already done, could you do one for donna if you write gp for her?

i love all your stuff btw!

Absolutely, hon!🙇‍♀️ Some more Donna in our lives never hurts XP! Other parts here

Let’s get into it!🙌

Masterlists

With a flushed face and a racing heart you look up at her, finding her dark eye at last. She’s hovering just mere inches above you, her breasts pushing down against you, her eye set on you, her thighs brushing against you and her cock- no, only her tip- pushed into you.

You squirm, helpless to do anything else due to the ribbons tying your wrists together. Already, you regret your actions, wishing you had been good instead. Now, you pay the price, all your pleads and whimpers falling onto deaf ears. You want- no, need her. Need all of her.

Alas, your punishment for today is obvious, clear as day to you, and so bittersweet.

You whine, your eyes wide. “Please, my love”, you plead.

“Please, just a little more, my love! I’ll be good now! Just…just a little more, a little…a little more!”, you whine, squirming to try and get her deeper inside. Stopping this abruptly, you gasp when she grabs your hips, her grip strong, her strong, skilled fingers pressing into your flesh.

“Now, Tesoro, I thought you said you’d be good this morning already…”, she coos, her voice low and seductive, enough to make your head spin.

Using her free hand she reaches down, and you can only whine as she begins to jerk herself off, thrusting her hand and occasionally sliding her fingers across her balls. And still, it’s only her tip that she grants you.

Feeling utterly edged and sensitive, you cry and squirm, little pleas slipping from your lips like water from a waterfall.

“Please, my love!”

“I’m sorry, Fiore!”

“Please, just a little bit! Just halfway in, my love!”

“I’ve learned my lesson!”, you insist, flushing when she laughs lowly and merely jerks herself off a little faster.

“Oh…tesoro, mi fai divertire”

You begin to feel more and more flustered, your body held down and in place, your arms restrained, her tip just barely inside of you. Still, you feel precum drool from her, feel how warm and wet she is. You drool, thinking of how she could just push herself inside fully at any time.

Alas, she isn’t, she doesn’t, and she won’t. Not until she feels you have learned your lesson. And you know, Donna is unfortunately, at least in this instance, very, very patient.

You gasp when she leans down, her tongue trailing along your neck, her hair tickling your skin gently.

“I have told you what would happen when you don’t behave, Tesoro”, she whispers, scolding playfully. Yes, she has. Punishment- but she never clarified it would be this, this..this agony! You can only squirm and try to roll your hips to no avail. You’re sure, you could cum instantly if she just pushed herself inside already!

“This isn’t…fair!”, you whine, feeling so terribly needy. Before this, you thought edging was the worst thing she could do, or denying you an orgasm all together. This is worse: this way, you don’t even feel her inside properly, can barely feel her head push and pulse inside of you, drooling precum inside.

She chuckles, the sound low and breathless, a sign she’s getting closer to an orgasm, too.

“Would you like me to pull out entirely, love?”, she asks, then, her voice a little lighter. Oh, she’s teasing you, and you’re helpless in the face of her dominance. You quickly shake your head, begging her not to. You don’t know why, but you just can’t bear to lose the tip, too, you desperately need more of her.

“Please…my love…I need it…!”, you plead instead, trying a different approach.

You gasp when her hand trails up to your neck, then, whereas the other works faster between her own legs, pulling moans and grunts from her.

“Then tell me how bad you need it, my doll”, she coos, arousal pooling in her dark eye.

Oh, and you do.

You moan, you plead, you whine and whimper all about just how bad you want it, how bad you need it.

You squirm and cry out for her, spread your legs, so utterly eager to accept more of her inside. But Donna, teasing as she is, merely continues jerking herself off for a painful while longer.

A little more, a little more.

More moans and grunts come from her that have your body heat up and tingle in anticipation.

You want it.

You need it.

And then,

you get it.

When she pushes herself inside, only to cum, it’s almost beautifully overwhelming. You moan and shriek, crying out for her, rolling your hips, eager to receive all of her. She fills you perfectly, paints your insides white and slick.

And then, just before you get your pleasure, you feel her pull out to the tip again.

“Beg again, little one”

[goodlucktai]

raised on little light (1/3)

rise of the tmnt word count: 2k pairing: leo & oc i've had this idea rattling around since the rise farewell comic earlier this year made it canon that the turtles had another brother and a sister floating around somewhere. we know who their sister is, so this is my take on that 5th brother. i hope you enjoy meeting him <3 big thank you to @soldrawss and @mykimouser for enabling my insane behavior (and thank you again to sol for drawing the art i included in this chapter!!!) title borrowed from northern attitude by noah kahan read on ao3

x

2020

Leo regretted his last words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Hero moves are totally your style”? As if Raph doesn’t have enough issues already.

But what he meant—what he would have tried to explain if there was time—was that Raph is his hero. He’s always been Leo’s hero. And if Leo could be anything like him, even for a second, even if it was the last thing he ever did, then he could be satisfied with that. 

It’s a silly thing to be stuck thinking about, laying on a torn up chunk of earth with a monster ominously lumbering somewhere below, looking for where it threw its toy. Laying there, feeling every bruise and broken bone, and hoping that he didn’t hurt his big brother’s feelings.

They’ll be okay, Leo thinks, trying to make it be the thing that gives him courage instead of just more homesickness. They’ll miss me, maybe for a long time, but they’ll be okay.

Leo’s supposed to be fighting for his life, but it’s all he can do to keep a grip on the photo in his hand, the only thing in this entire dimension worth holding onto. It’s all he can do to keep his eyes open when every blink is longer than the last. 

It feels like enough of a rebellion. The Krang looked annoyed that he was still breathing the last time it batted him through the void like a fly, which gives Leo the idea that he should probably be dead by now. He feels a detached sort of pride at how grown-up he’s being about all this. Better late than never

Leo waits for the Krang to come for him, dripping his blood and sneering his daddy’s nickname for him hatefully as it does, and hopes he made his family proud. 

Leo hopes he’ll go wherever Gram-gram is. It would be nice to know someone when he gets there. 

Movement in his periphery snags Leo’s attention. His brain starts throwing up warning flags, signaling danger—anything moving around in here is another parasite, or a Krang hound, nothing he’ll want to be sprawled out on a silver platter for—but he can’t summon any urgency. 

He turns his head and finds himself looking up at another turtle. 

It’s the very last thing he expected to see. They both just stare at each other for a moment. 

The newcomer appears to be a few years older than Leo, based on the broadness of their shoulders, and half a head taller. Their skin is more gray than green and their plastron is so pale it’s closer to white than yellow. Their carapace, what Leo can see of it, is a deep blue-black and they’re covered, skin and shell both, in white spots. Two of the spots on their face give the impression of eyebrows lowered in a glare, but they don’t seem angry at him.

The turtle is completely unfamiliar to Leo, which is saying something. He thought he and his family had the monopoly on… this whole situation. 

Disquieted, Leo remembers that he’s supposed to be the only turtle here. That was a very significant part of the decision he’d made. 

It must be a hallucination, he decides, instantly comforted by his own reasoning. That makes sense. He just wished that if his mind was going to conjure him some dying company it could at least be someone he knows. An imaginary Mikey or Donnie or Raphie for one last hug. One last affectionate forehead bonk. An “I still love you,” if that wasn’t asking too much. 

Don’t you cry now, he scolds himself sternly when his eyes start to blur and burn. It’s not about you. 

With a resounding crash of metal against stone, the Krang finds them at last. He’s snarling something that Leo is too slow to piece together before he cuts himself off—surprising the hell out of Leonardo by acknowledging the hallucination. That’s not how that works. 

“Another pest ,” the Krang hisses. His serrated teeth glint when he draws his gummy lips back in an ugly smile. His tone is oily and unpleasant when he adds, “You’re less colorful than those other ones. I would have remembered seeing you. Where were you when your accomplices were fumbling about in my Technodrome like the stupid creatures they are?”

“We won,” Leo reminds the alien, even though it makes him cough. His lips are warm and wet now but he won’t think about why. “Blew up your ugly ship. Who looks stupid now?” 

“Shut your mouth!” the Krang roars, going from slimy to homicidal in about three seconds. Leo cringes, every ounce of animal instinct in his body urging him to hide in his shell and ride the rest of this nightmare out. 

The spotted turtle snaps, “Don’t talk to him.” 

It would have made sense if he was looking at Leo when he said it. Don’t engage, don’t bait the big monster that could kill you with as much effort as it takes you to blink, et cetera ad nauseum. If only he’d had a nickel for every time he heard that. 

But instead the turtle is looking at the Krang, and he’s radiating the kind of cold-blooded murder that you mostly only see in movies. He has one arm flung out in front of Leo like he actually means to use it to stop the Krang from getting any closer. 

“Don’t even look at him,” he goes on, sounding seconds away from baring his teeth. 

This guy is significantly unaware of the danger he’s facing, and Leo ought to warn him about what enormous clusterfuck he’d just wandered into. Leo ought to say he appreciates the reptile solidarity, but you should definitely run, new guy. 

But this probably isn’t actually happening outside of his own head. And besides, Leo has to focus really hard on his numb fingers so he doesn’t drop his photo. 

“I’ll look where I please,” the Krang says, as unbothered by the hallucination as he was by Leo’s entire family. “Starting with that fool head of yours. I’m interested in whatever backdoor led you here. If it’s my way out, well —”

Adrenaline surges through Leo, and he’s hardly aware of moving before he’s lurching up and shouting out, “No!” 

He can’t get out, he can’t. Leonardo won’t be able to trick him again. He won’t be there to help this time. 

“I do have one thing for you,” the spotted turtle interrupts to say, reaching over his shoulder for what turns out to be a compound crossbow strapped to his back. 

Leo doesn’t know a lot about archery so it’s weird his fictional turtle does, crank-cocking the weapon like it’s an extension of his arm. He watches cluelessly as the turtle slides something very purple out of his jacket pocket and notches it into the groove where the bolts are supposed to go. It’s definitely not a bolt, but it’s a piercing-type projectile of some kind, and it fits in the crossbow like it was designed with crossbows in mind. 

The turtle aims the bow at the Krang, who clicks the claws of his metal suit on the ground the way Splinter would drum his fingers on the kitchen counter when he was waiting on the microwave. The Krang looks condescending and mildly curious, like he’s watching dumb little animals do something they’re not trained to do. 

“He told me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to see this part,” the spotted turtle says, and then shoots without a second of hesitation or unnecessary dramatics. 

The Krang bats the projectile away, or tries to, but it explodes on contact with his armor, and suddenly all Leo can smell is burning metal. Then burning meat. 

The Krang begins to scream, clawing at something defiantly purple with a mind of its own that eats straight through him the effortless, immediate way corrosive acid chews through soft tissue. It moves like nanotech, covering as much of the Krang as possible in a manner of seconds and clearly designed to consume whatever it touches like a school of cartoon piranhas. 

Donnie would love it, color scheme and all. 

The Krang stumbles drunkenly, howling like a creature possessed, and Leo and his turtle companion both watch silently until he tips over the edge of the hunk of torn earth they’re on. Gravity is nonexistent in this dimension, so he doesn’t so much fall as sort of drift in another direction while he’s distracted with the purple stuff that’s doing its best to eat him alive. 

The last handful of minutes have been so bizarre that it’s actually going pretty far in convincing Leo that none of it happened for real. The Krang hasn’t actually found him yet. This is clearly a dream. Or a pre-death electrical storm as the neurons in his brain fire up to fizzle out.  

He tips his head to the side again to stare up at the archer, who is putting his bow away with perfect confidence that whatever that purple thing was, it will do the job. 

“Who are you?” Leo asks stupidly. 

“Gio,” the probably imaginary turtle replies.

Leo’s mouth runs off before he can stop it. “Just Gio? Like Cher?”

God, he thinks. That was stupid, Leo. Not the time or place, Leo. You’re in the prison dimension. You’re dying here and you can’t even cut the jokes now? Raph was so right about you.

But the imaginary turtle surprises him by smiling slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling just barely upwards in a way that somehow completely transforms him. Not the time or place for jokes or smiling at them but here they are. Like company.

“Giorgio Hamato,” ‘Gio’ says. That lands in Leo’s ears as something remarkably worth making a lot of noise over, but he can’t begin to unpack it. And after a second, he forgets what the remarkable part was. His mind is a deck of cards that got shuffled too enthusiastically and ended up scattered all over the floor. Gio doesn’t seem to mind when Leo just blinks at him, adding, “I’m here to take you home.”  

“Pretty sure Uber doesn’t come out this far,” Leo mumbles, the words a paint smear, all thick and wet and muddy. One of his teeth feels broken and it’s keeping him awake, a blistering ache that cracks through the back of his mouth like lightning. “And I’ve got, like, zero bars.”

This is how I cope, he thinks, watching the bigger turtle absorb the second bad joke in as many minutes. Leo’s blinking fast so he doesn’t cry. He’s trying to focus on anything but the pain radiating through his whole body, and the swallowing darkness all around him, and the ruins of ancient metal ships looming where they float unrestricted by gravity, and the ballistic howls of a pissed-off pink alien still dealing with whatever the heck this Gio guy did to him.

He can’t focus on any of that because all of that is scary and he’s already terrified. He needs to not be terrified because he doesn’t want to be that kind of ghost when he haunts his family. He wants to be the friendly, funny kind, the kind that gets to stay at the end of the movie, the kind that will make silly faces at Mikey so he doesn’t get scared, and leave sticky notes for Donnie to remember to charge his phone and drink enough water, and cover Raphie with an extra blanket while he’s asleep because it gets cold at night but he always leaves his bedroom door open for them.

If Leo’s friendly and funny, if he helps, he’ll get to stay. He didn’t get to stay the first time, so this time he has to make it stick.

Larger hands wrap around his. It doesn’t register for a second, and then it does in a big way.

Leo jerks his head up. Moving just that much hurts like his ribs are broken all the way down and the bones in his leg have all melted into liquid agony, but it clears some of the fog away.

Someone is holding his hands in the prison dimension.

An alien like the Krang wouldn’t know the first thing about the human gesture, the togetherness of it, so it’s not some mean trick that’s being played. And it can’t be an imaginary turtle that Leo dreamed up, after all, because kindness would be the last thing he’d give himself.

Possibly very real Gio says, “Fuck Uber. Whatever that is. And don’t repeat that word.”

The punchy breath Leo chokes in is going to punch out again as a laugh or a sob. Leo squeezes the bigger turtle’s hands, photo crinkling between them, suddenly tethered to something in this void and hysterically certain that he’ll die for real if Gio lets go.

“I’m sixteen.” Leo’s voice wobbles. He doesn’t know what to react to first. He doesn’t understand how this is happening. He holds on. “I can say the fuck word if I want to, I’m practically an adult.”

Gio’s face does something it hurts to look at. His eyes are dark and sincere, the shape of them entirely familiar. There’s a warmth inside him that permeates the gloom. A star belonging to a much larger galaxy, but more significantly, belonging to the same crooked constellation Leo belongs to.

I know you, he thinks, surprised by the truth of it. I do. Where have you been?

“We’re going home,” Gio says, the certainty in his voice like one of those huge stones a river parts around, unmoved by the currents and crashing water. “I know the way out. Don’t worry about it. Close your eyes.”   

The worst thing that could happen has already happened, Leo thinks. There’s no reason not to trust him. There’s nothing left to lose. He closes his eyes.

He feels himself drawn in, tucked against the built-in armor of a turtle chest, head resting on a broad shoulder. He’s been carried like this a million times before. He didn’t think it would happen again. Somewhere along the line, he’d been picked up for the last time and put down for the last time, and now he’s here, where no one who loves him can reach him, to scoop him up when he falls asleep on the sofa and take him to bed.

But Gio lifts him up like he’s still a kid. The Krang is bellowing hateful promises in between the grating shrieks of pain, promises of what he’ll do when he gets his hands on Leo, but all of that is far away. 

Leo isn’t afraid anymore. He isn’t going to be a ghost.

He’s pretty sure he’s going home.