#And part of him is just relishing in the feeling of that

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴊ ᴀ ʏ ʙ ɪ ʀ ᴅ ⸻

“ The Second Son: Blood Stained Bonds ”

Pairing: Dark Jason Todd x Fem Reader Part 1

Summary: After his death you left everything behind. You're still Bruce daughter but no longer a part of family. You had a new life and everything was fine, until the day someone left a box outside your door...

Warning: Physically violence/Choking.

Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

“You sure you’re ok?” he asked as she kissed him lightly on the lips.

“I’ll be fine,” she said smiling.

He searched her face for a moment before nodding, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be back late.”

As Daniel left, she closed the door behind him and exhaled, her chest tightening. She shook it off, slipping out of her shoes and heading straight for the shower. Maybe hot water would ease the tension coiled in her spine.

The steam filled the small bathroom quickly, clinging to the mirror and fogging the glass. She stepped under the stream, letting the water rush over her skin. It was almost too hot, but she relished the way it scalded, burning away the nerves she carried like an old scar.

She hummed softly, a melody that she didn’t recognize but felt familiar all the same. Her thoughts wandered as the water cascaded over her, but something pulled her back.

A sound.

She froze, water streaming down her face. She strained her ears, her breath catching in her throat.

Nothing.

It was probably nothing. The pipes, maybe. This building wasn’t new, and the plumbing always made strange noises. She shook her head, laughing softly at her paranoia, and returned to her shower.

But the feeling didn’t go away.

She felt it then—the distinct sensation of being watched. Her fingers tightened into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She counted slowly in her head, telling herself she was imagining it, that she was safe. Safe.

The ringing of the doorbell shattered the silence.

She jumped, her heart slamming against her ribs. The water continued to pour over her, but the incessant ringing pulled her focus. It didn’t stop.

“Seriously?” she muttered, cutting the water off and grabbing a towel. Wrapping it hastily around herself, she stormed out of the bathroom, her wet feet slapping against the tile floor.

The ringing continued, grating against her nerves.

“Alright, alright!” she yelled, yanking the door open with more force than necessary. She grabbed the towel, wrapped it tightly around herself, irritation bubbling to the surface. The ringing didn’t stop. Again. Again. Over and over, like whoever was behind the door had nothing better to do than torment her.

“Coming!” she yelled, stomping toward the door, her wet feet leaving angry prints on the hardwood.

No one was there.

Just a box.

She blinked, her gaze dropping to the large cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat. There was no note, no markings, nothing to indicate where it came from or who had sent it.

She sighed, irritation flickering through her. Probably Bruce, she thought, stepping forward and dragging the box inside. She left it by the coffee table, her focus already back on her shower. The towel was damp against her skin, and all she wanted was to feel clean and warm again.

By the time she was out of the shower, dressed in an old sweatshirt and leggings, she’d nearly forgotten about the box. She made a cup of tea, settling onto the couch with the remote, flipping through channels.

Everything was dull. Every show, every movie. Nothing held her attention. Her gaze drifted to the box.

It sat there, innocuous yet somehow foreboding.

She hesitated before setting her tea down and kneeling in front of it. The tape peeled away easily, the cardboard flaps opening to reveal its contents.

Her breath caught.

The first thing she saw was the Batgirl suit.

Her old suit, neatly folded, its colors dimmed by time and wear. Beneath it were other items: a small photograph, trinkets she hadn’t seen in years.

She reached for the photo first.

It was a picture of her and Jason. He was grinning, his arm slung around her shoulders, while she was caught mid-laugh. The memory hit her like a wave. She’d teased him relentlessly that day about his messy hair, and he’d retaliated by messing up hers until they were both in a fit of laughter.

"You look like you just rolled out of bed Jaybird," she said with a smirk, poking fun at him.

Jason rolled his eyes but grinned back. "Says the girl who hasn’t combed her hair in days."

She laughed, flipping her own hair over her shoulder dramatically. And just like that, they’d been caught in a moment of unguarded joy.

Jason, ruffled her hair, making it even messier than before. “There. Now you look like me!” he teased.

She gasped in mock horror, instantly reaching up to fix her hair. “What did you do?”

Her fingers trembled as she set the photo down and reached for the next item. A bracelet he’d made for her—clumsy knots of red and green string. She’d worn it for months until it fell apart.

“You like it?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

“Of course I do,” she’d replied, smiling softly as she accepted the bracelet. It was clumsy, but in that moment, it felt like the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given her.

Then came a note in her handwriting. She remembered writing it, a quick scribble of encouragement before a patrol.

“You’ve got this, Jaybird. Show them what you’re made of.”

“You okay?” he asked, his voice surprisingly soft, a rare crack in his usual persona.

She hadn’t answered right away. Instead, she had sat beside him in silence. The hurt from the night before clung to her like a second skin. She hadn’t expected him to do anything—she didn’t need pity. But then, he did something she would never forget.

Without a word, Jason had wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. It wasn’t some grand gesture, nothing theatrical. Just a simple, genuine hug. His cheek had rested against her hair, and for the briefest moment, she let herself feel weak. She let the tears threaten to spill.

“I’m here,” he had whispered, and his voice had been steady, warm. “We’ll get through it. Together.”

Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. She clutched the note tightly, her chest heaving with silent sobs. The weight of everything she’d buried, everything she’d run from, came crashing down.

She remembered the good moments, the times Jason had made her laugh until her stomach hurt. The way he’d always looked at her, like she was the only person who mattered. The trust in his eyes when she’d told him they could make Bruce proud together.

She wiped her cheeks, but the tears kept coming.

Her gaze drifted back to the box. Something else was in there. Something heavier. She hesitated, her hands trembling as she reached for it.

It was a crowbar.

Bloodstained.

Her breath hitched, and the air seemed to leave the room. She dropped it, scrambling backward, her heart racing.

The shadows in the room seemed to shift, and for the first time, she felt utterly alone.

The phone was cool against her ear as she sat cross-legged on the couch, staring at the opened box on the floor. Bruce answered on the second ring, his voice as steady and deep as she remembered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bruce," she said softly. Her voice cracked despite her best effort to sound normal.

"Y/N." Relief washed over his tone, and she could almost see him leaning back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "I didn’t think you’d call back so soon."

She smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "I’ve been meaning to. Just... been busy."

There was a pause, the kind that stretched uncomfortably long. Bruce, for all his control, didn’t handle emotional conversations well.

"How’s the family?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Bruce seemed to relax at the shift in focus. "They’re doing well. Dick had taken over Blüdhaven. Tim’s been working on a new case—too much, if you ask me. And Barbara’s focused on her tech projects."

"And Alfred?"

"Still the same. Still trying to make me take a day off. But he missed you. Everyone does." There was a faint smile in his voice now. "How about you? How’s university?"

"It’s good," she replied, twirling a strand of her damp hair. "They say I'm good, if I continue like that I will be a certified doctor."

"I’m proud of you," Bruce said quietly.

Her throat tightened at the sincerity in his words. "Thanks," she murmured. "And Daniel’s great. He’s... he’s good to me."

Bruce didn’t respond immediately, and she could hear the faint hum of the Batcave in the background.

"You’ve built a good life for yourself," he said finally. "But Gotham will always be your home, Y/N. You’ll always have a place here. You’ll always be my daughter."

Her smile faded, and she bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. "I can’t come back, Bruce," she said, her voice trembling. "Not after what I did."

"Y/N..." His voice softened in a way that was rare for him. "It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you both."

She shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. "I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself. Jason—" Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard.

"Jason wouldn’t want you to carry this guilt," Bruce said firmly. "Neither do I. You didn’t fail him, Y/N. I did."

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. She looked at the box on the floor again, her gaze locking onto the crowbar.

"Bruce," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "That box you sent—"

"What box?"

Her stomach dropped. "The one with my Batgirl suit. And... other things." She hesitated, her voice growing unsteady. "There was a crowbar in it, Bruce. It was bloodstained."

"I didn’t send you anything," Bruce said, his tone sharp now. "Y/N, what are you talking about?"

Her heart began to race. "You’re telling me you didn’t send it? You don’t know about the box?"

"No. I don’t know what you’re talking about."

The sound of glass shattering made her jump, and her head snapped toward the kitchen.

"Y/N?" Bruce’s voice was urgent, but she barely heard him.

"Something broke," she said, her voice distant. "I’ll call you back."

"Wait—"

She ended the call, her hand trembling as she set the phone down. Her gaze flicked to the crowbar lying on her desk.

Swallowing her fear, she grabbed it, the cold metal heavy in her hand. Slowly, she moved toward the kitchen, her bare feet silent against the floor.

The house was eerily quiet except for the faint creak of the floorboards under her weight. She tightened her grip on the crowbar, her pulse hammering in her ears.

When she reached the kitchen, she hesitated, her breath hitching as she peeked around the corner.

The window was open, a chilly breeze fluttering the curtains.

Her eyes darted to the broken mug on the floor and the small, furry figure perched on the counter.

A cat jumped down from the counter, its fur bristling as it hissed at her before darting out the open window.

She exhaled shakily, her knees threatening to give out. She lowered the crowbar, leaning against the counter as her heartbeat gradually slowed.

“Just a cat,” she muttered to herself. “Just a stupid cat.”

But the feeling didn’t leave her.

The sensation of being watched lingered, a prickling at the back of her neck. She glanced around the room again, her grip on the crowbar tightening.

“Stop it,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You’re just imagining things.”

She turned back to the box in the living room. Her mind raced with possibilities. If Bruce hadn’t sent it, then who had?

Joker?

No. It had been years. He had no reason to come after her now. But the thought nagged at her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

She glanced at the crowbar again, her stomach twisting. She needed to talk to Bruce.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t over.

She felt it before she saw it. The impact of something heavy hitting her, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her vision was distorted, the world around her a wash of blurry shapes and smears. Everything was red—vivid, suffocating red that stained her mind and her skin, pressing down on her like an iron weight.

She was screaming, but the sound wasn’t hers.

She couldn’t breathe. The air was thick, suffocating, and she gasped for it, but it was as if her lungs couldn’t fill. Something—someone—was there, near her. She could hear him, his voice rising above.

His voice.

It was faint at first, but then it became clearer, cutting through the disarray.

“Don’t… don’t… please!”

Jason...

His voice, strained and desperate, barely reaching her through the fog in her mind.

“Please, please don’t... Don’t do this!”

She tried to focus, to clear the haze in her head. But it was so hard. What’s happening? Everything felt so wrong. Was he crying? Was he... begging?

Wait.

Why was he begging? Why was he crying?

His voice broke, and it stabbed her like a knife. Don’t cry, she thought, almost absently. Don’t cry, Jason. It’s not your fault.

He didn’t want her to be hurt.

Her chest tightened at the thought, and her vision flared with red-hot pain.

Why are you crying, Jason?

His voice broke through again, desperate, louder this time.

“Y/N!”

Her pulse stuttered at the sound of her name, raw with agony. She wanted to reach out, but her hands wouldn’t move. The world spun faster, and she couldn’t stop it. The walls around her were closing in.

She tried to focus on him—on his voice—but everything was blurring again. Why was he crying? Why was he… Why was he yelling?

It’s my fault, she thought desperately. I’m the one who did this. I ruined everything.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, everything went still.

She gasped for breath, but her body wouldn’t obey. Her chest constricted, and she tried to scream again, but the world around her was just too far away. The red haze thickened.

And then, everything went black.

She awoke with a start, gasping as though she had been submerged underwater. Her body trembled violently, drenched in sweat, her chest heaving for air.

Her heart pounded in her ears.

What was that?

She sat up in bed, her eyes wide as she tried to steady her breath. She hadn’t had a nightmare like that in so long. She thought she was done with them. But that voice… Jason’s voice, still echoing in her ears. The sound of his crying. The desperation. The guilt.

A soft ringing broke through her daze. The doorbell.

It was raining outside, the soft patter of the storm barely reaching her through the walls.

She stood slowly, wiping the sweat from her brow as she grabbed the crowbar from beside her bed. There was something about the ringing that set her nerves on edge. Something... wrong.

She moved cautiously down the stairs, every step creaking beneath her. Her hand gripped the crowbar tightly, knuckles white. She stopped at the door, staring at the peephole, but saw nothing—just the darkness of the storm.

She swallowed hard and turned the handle, swinging the door open.

Empty.

Her breath escaped in a shaky laugh as she shook her head. She was being paranoid.

Just a mistake. Just the wind. Or maybe a neighbor…

She laughed at herself again, weakly. How stupid could she be?

She started to close the door, her hand gripping the handle, when a sudden force slammed into her.

Her breath was crushed out of her as a hand gripped her throat, yanking her backward with brutal force. The crowbar fell from her hand, clattering uselessly to the floor as she was slammed against the door with such force that the wood shook.

She couldn’t breathe. Her hands flew to her neck, scratching, clawing at the hand that was squeezing the life out of her.

Everything was a blur, her vision fading in and out. But there were two eyes—two wild, unhinged eyes—staring at her through a mask of red. A twisted, maniacal grin was visible beneath the blood-streaked fabric. She gasped, her lungs screaming for air, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break free. She was weightless now, her feet no longer touching the floor as the pressure on her throat intensified.

She kicked out, her feet uselessly struggling to find purchase. Her vision began to dim, a ringing in her ears drowning out the world. Everything was spinning. The edges of her vision were dissolving into darkness.

Is this how it ends?

Her throat tightened, her eyes burning with the effort of holding onto consciousness.

Is this it?

Her thoughts flickered. The coldness of the hand around her neck, the darkness closing in, everything felt too heavy, too wrong. She had no strength left. Her muscles screamed in protest, but they didn’t obey.

Tears gathered in her eyes, blurring her sight. Her lungs burned with every desperate, ragged breath.

And then, the grip released.

She crumpled to the floor, gasping for air as her vision swam and her chest heaved.

Through the haze, she looked up, but everything was dark, save for the faint outline of a figure standing above her. She could barely make out the shape of a face, the contours of a body, but there was one thing she saw clearly.

Two eyes.

Green.

Tears filled those eyes, glistening in the dim light, staring at her with an intensity she couldn’t understand.

They were familiar.

But she couldn’t place them.

She blinked, but everything was slipping away.

Her mind was going blank, her body growing colder by the second. The last thing she saw was the figure, the two green eyes... and then, everything went dark again.

Next: Part 2. Part 3.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[thewindigo]

“Lockjaw”

warnings. 18+ NSFW MDNI. aged up characters. ken “okarun” takakura x fem! reader, porn w/o plot, blowjob, hair pulling, facefucking, deepthroating, accidental overstimulation?, he gives you a facial😋

wc. 861

notes. sorry if there are mistakes! I legit just made a post abt writing this so it’s my first actual attempt at a fic. (he’s so ooc)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

“f-fuck..” he groans, as his tip continues to slide along the back of your throat, as your lips enclose around takakura’s shaft, you feel him shudder with delight. his hands bury themselves in your hair, gripping firmly but not too roughly. he gazes down at you with a mix of passion and desire as you swirl your tongue along the sensitive length of him.

"sososo good.." ken murmurs, his voice heavy with yearning. he begins to move slowly, guiding himself deeper into your warm, wet mouth. your eyes meet his, a silent understanding passing between you.

he starts to pick up the pace, his hips thrusting with building urgency. your fingers dig into his soft thighs, a muffled protest escaping you as he pushes ever deeper. the head of him hits the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

"please I c-can’t.." he whines, his breath coming in ragged gasps. with each thrust, his fingers tighten in your hair, angling your head to take him even deeper. the musky scent of him fills your senses as you surrender yourself to the exquisite feel of him gliding over your tongue again and again.

you feel his movements becoming more erratic, his restraint slipping further as the pleasure mounts. he whines “oh god, your mouth feels so good..”

he buries himself to the hilt, the swollen tip hitting the back of your throat forcefully with each pounding stroke. tears sting your eyes, but you press on, determined not to back down.

the sound of his hips colliding with your chin echoes through the room, punctuated by the wet, slick noises of your joining. ken's breath hitches, his fingers twisting in your tresses as he gazes down at you with an intensity that makes your heart pound.

his pace becomes relentless, driving himself deeper, seeking that sweet release. unconsciously, your hands reach up to grasp his thighs. your lips part from him with an audible pop, a string of his essence stretching before snapping. his hands immediately grasp himself, taking over the rhythmic glide of what was just inside your warmth.

gazing down at you with hazy eyes, he strokes faster, his movements more primal now. with each pump, he watches yourself under him, seeking to push himself back to that ecstatic peak.

the room echoes with the sounds of his hand moving along his member. his jaw tightens, teeth gritted as he chases his high,

his once steady pace dwindles down to a sloppy mess as he reaches his peak, arching his back and whines as hot ropes of cum land on your face - warm and thick as he paints you with his release. you feel the wetness trickling over your features, marking you as his. the sight makes his brain short-circuit, drawing out deep, shuddering whimpers from deep within his chest. as the last drops of him fall away, you use your fingers to carefully gather his essence from your face, raising them to your lips and sucking them clean. the taste of him lingers on your tongue, visceral and undeniable proof of the passion shared.

with deliberate slowness, you turn your attention to the cock that so recently occupied your mouth. your tongue darts out, lapping up every trace of his cum, relishing the intimate connection. the salty tang mingles with the musky flavor of his arousal, driving you to savor each moment.

he watches this display with rapt fascination, his breath coming in short pants. the sight of you so consumed, so devoted to claiming every bit of him, is too much. you feel him shudder as you tenderly clean him, the intensity of the aftermath crashing down on him in waves.

finally, spent and overwhelmed, he brings you up to meet him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. the taste of himself still on both of you only heightens the intimacy. confused desire and tenderness battle within his eyes as he holds you close.

"Y-you..." he stammers out, still catching his breath. "f-fuck..”

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 nightgown

synopsis: after two wonderful years with the swordsman, you're reluctant to let him go, especially without telling him how you feel. luckily, he feels the exact same way... and more than accepts your scanty going away present.

cw: part 2/3, nsfw, fluffy fluff, comfort, reader is FIONE, reader is also real as hell, zoro is a fiend, mihawk is such dad, this was so fun to write.

a/n: tagging: @that-b-word-lol @ihatespidersdie I NEED THIS MAN UNDER MY TREE

"C'mon, (y/n), they're not gonna fight if you keep playing with 'em," Zoro sighed, removing his sword from his mouth as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You giggled, unable to fight off your smile as you danced with the humandrills, relishing in their happy snorts and yips as the leader of the gang—Chuki—picked you up and placed you on his shoulder, happily parading you around.

"Sorry," you grinned, clapping with approval as a few of the others performed back-flips and cartwheels to keep your attention. "I was coming out to check on you guys."

Just then, Chuki let out a howl of excitement, wanting to join in on the fun.

Without warning, he launched himself into a somersault, completely forgetting you were on his shoulder and sending you flying.

'Not again...'

Zoro moved like he'd done this a hundred times—which he had—effortlessly shooting himself up and catching you in mid-air, bridal style.

"Every time?" he asked, raising a brow.

"I'm gonna miss this," you chuckled, looping an arm around his neck as he landed.

"The hell are you gonna do when I'm gone?" he carefully put you down, crossing his arms over his chest once again. "I'm not gonna be here to keep you from falling on your face."

You shrugged, turning to Chuki with a wide smile as he gave you a high five, "I guess I'll just have to learn how to land on my own."

"HA!"

The swordsman scoffed, shoulders bobbing with laughter as you snapped your head over to him, less amused.

"The girl who can barely hold a sword? I'd love to see it."

"Hey!"

"Hu hu hua!" Chuki mimicked, turning to you with an incredulous look. "Ooh, ah ah ah, hua!"

"I know right," you agreed, resting a hand on your hip as you glanced at the swordsman. "And smelly, too..."

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

Gloom Island was known all-throughout the Grand Line as an abandoned island, its kingdoms having brought themselves to utter ruin after years of war.

Your parents had even been drafted, and, of course, killed in the line of duty.

But, by fate or by fortune, you had managed to survive, living through most of your childhood as an orphan in a battle-ravaged kingdom.

Until, eventually, you were the last one standing.

Alone, you searched for any survivors, managing to stumble across a devil fruit along the way before meeting the humandrills.

The Speak-Speak fruit allowed you to become fluent in any language from the moment you heard it spoken aloud—animal language, included.

So, after meeting them on their level, the monkeys took you in, protecting you and treating you as one of their own until Mihawk came along not too long after, taking up the role as your father-figure and mentor.

Naturally, he tried to teach you some swordsmanship, but you lacked... talent, to say the least.

"I've gotten better since the last time we trained together!" you bellowed, proudly, as you picked up a sword, lowering yourself into an offensive stance. "Look!"

"Your posture's off," Zoro noticed, off-rip, "And your feet are too far apart."

Breath hitching, your face glowed with embarrassment, your body practically freezing in place.

'Shit!'

And just as you were trying to prove a point...

"Here," he instructed, getting up behind you and pressing his hand into the small of your back, straightening you up. "Like this."

Your spine shivered at his touch, the thick pads of his fingers practically burning into your flesh, despite the fabric separating them.

"Pull your feet a bit closer... it will firm up your stance... And if you're facing an enemy head on like this, you're gonna want to be upright."

"Okay!" you squeaked, doing your best to make the adjustments without physically combusting.

Carefully, you pulled your feet in shoulder width, and used his hand as a guide to straighten up your posture.

"Good," he commended, his arms suddenly coming around you grab your hands, helping you fix your grip on the sword. "Now when you swing, I want you to step into it."

You felt chills when his hands touched yours, years of work evident in his rough, calloused flesh, which held yours with the gentlest touch.

Turning to glance at him, your eyes came up to meet his once more, telling a story that made you just want to sit down and listen.

You studied his facial features up close—for about the fifty-millionth time—taking note of everything you had come to admire in the last two years.

The slight pink of his tanned lips...

The strength of his jaw...

The faint scar that rested on the tip of his shoulder, not that such a detail could be picked up unless one was really looking.

You felt like the staring going on for ages, but you didn't want to look away, and neither did he.

He, too, was studying your face.

And, deep down, he never wanted to look away.

"Dinner is ready," your father's voice cut through the air, draining all the color from your face.

Instantly, you and Zoro quickly threw yourselves off each other, heat rising to both your faces as you turned away, embarrassed—and slightly scared for the swordsman.

Mihawk fixed Zoro with a sharp glare, sizing him up as if he was some sort of delinquent.

He had been suspicious of you and the swordsman since the moment he arrived, particularly suspect as to why you felt so inclined to help him.

He knew you were a smart girl, and wouldn't disregard everything he had ever taught you about being safe without a valid reason.

A valid reason being a handsome man, in this case.

Still, what was he supposed to expect?

You were a woman now—no matter how difficult it was for him to accept—and women had... needs.

Mihawk shivered at the thought, quickly purging it from his mind as he turned on his heel, power-walking back toward the castle.

Not under his roof...

"Don't dawdle... it'll get cold."

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Come in," Zoro called, not moving from his spot resting peacefully on his bed, his hands tucked behind his head.

"Happy Going Away/Leaving To Reunite With Your Friends Tomorrow Day!" you smiled, carefully entering his room while holding a plate with a comically large onigiri on top, a sparkler sticking out of it. "I know you don't like cake, so I brought the next best thing!"

Warmed by the display, Zoro sat up, trying and failing to fight the smile rising to his lips as you approached.

'Adorable...'

"(y/n)... you didn't have to do all his," he started, not knowing what to say as you handed him his gift.

"I know that. But I figured you deserved something special to commemorate all the hard work you've done," you nodded, sheepishly. "You put up with my dad for two years... of your own free will... that alone is its own achievement."

Letting out a small chuckle, the swordsman suddenly found his eyes drifting to you, only to be met by your pretty, (e/c) eyes staring down at him, the entire room fading around you two.

He barely believed his eyes as he drank you in—your appearance sinful enough to make the devil sweat.

Instead of your usual long, black dress, you wore a tiny, black nightgown, which accentuated your luscious, curvaceous body and exposed the enticing flesh of your thighs.

You paired the little number with some black pumps, which he bet barely made you taller than him if you were to stand up.

The moonlight pouring in from the window illuminated your skin and glossed up, plump lips at curled into a nervous smile at the sight of him.

Topped off with the sweet silkiness of your voice; the way your body sensually moved; how you smelled of cocoa butter and vanilla.

Quietly, Zoro cursed under his breath, practically reeling.

God, if the last two years were anything, they were a testament to his willpower...

He had never felt this way before.

So distracted.

So obsessed.

You plagued his mind every hour of the day, the thoughts ranging from wholesome to downright scandalous.

Seeing you around the castle, watching the movement of your hips and the graceful slide of your hands, making him feel extremely stiff.

'Christ...'

He tried not to think of you like that.

You were the daughter of his sworn enemy, and a sweetheart, at that...

You deserved a nice guy, one that had a regular life, with a regular job and regular urges.

Not a jaded pirate like himself.

But you were just so damn alluring, he couldn't help himself.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You blinked once, coming out of the trance the man had put you under with a confused raise of your brow.

"Huh?" you asked, dumbly, your mind having turned to mush in the five minutes you were staring at him.

"I said," he pointedly repeated, placing the plate down on his nightstand before standing to his full height, towering over you. "What do you think you're doing?"

Nervous, your manicured hand wrapped around your arm, the swordsman's mind immediately traveling somewhere else.

"I... don't know what you're talking about," you muttered, eyes drifting away from him.

You tried to think quick, scouring your mind for some sort of excuse as he fixed his gaze on you like a predator would his pray.

You knew you couldn't chicken out now.

Especially after all the work you put into getting ready.

"You come in here..." he started, slowly pressing forward, forcing you to step back in order to keep some air between you two. "Dressed like that... just to give me a going-away present?"

You swallowed, thickly, continuing to move backward as he continued to invade your space, his eye cutting you down to size like a cat does a mouse.

"What are you trying to do?"

You turn away slightly, pulling your soft, glossy lip into a nervous bite.

"I just... wanted to look nice... for you," you muttered, resting your hands behind your back.

"Did you, now?" he cocked a brow. "Y'know... after all this time, I think I've finally got you figured out."

With a squeak, your back met the wall, forcing you to stay put as the swordsman caged you in, his muscular body leaving no route of escape.

"I think... you're a sweet girl, who's never met a pirate before, or been allowed outside the confines of this island, that thinks that she can stick it to her father by flirting with the man who is hellbent on taking him down."

Zoro raised a brow, cockily, a teasing smirk rising to his lips.

"How's that? Am I in the ballpark?"

"Hardly," you denied, a small air of confidence returning the wind to your sails.

It caught his attention immediately.

"I may be sweet... and you may be my father's rival... but you forget that I am I woman."

His breath hitched, eye widening slightly as you pulled yourself off the wall, taking your turn to move forward and regain some ground.

"A woman who's been lonely for quite some time... a woman who enjoys your company more than she'd care to admit... a woman who's never had more fun than in the two years you've lived in her house..."

You rested your hand against his chest, the swordsman scared you would feel his heart beating against his rib-cage.

"A woman who's found herself falling in love with the idiot that crash landed on her island..."

Eye wide, Zoro flushed at your boldness, looking away from your intense, (e/c) eyes.

"You don't mean that..." he attempted to rationalize, suddenly unable to comprehend the possibility of you actually liking him.

This had to be a trick.

You were just doing this to piss off your dad...

Right?

You stared at him with hooded eyes, flashing him a bashful, crooked smile that nearly had him melting into the floor.

"If I didn't... do you think I'd be standing here right now?"

The floodgates were opened.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, Zoro roughly yanked you forward, pulling you into his chest as you let out a gasp of surprise.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he warned, holding himself back by the thinnest string of his sanity. "If we do this... there's no going back. And after tomorrow, you won't see me for who knows how long..."

He looked you up and down, giving you a stare that would make any woman weak in the knees.

"You gonna be okay with that?"

Seriously, you nodded, looking up at him with sparkling eyes that nearly set his heart on fire.

"Alright, then... no holding back."

And he took "no holding back" with the utmost seriousness, managing to make you cum three times throughout your night in his room.

The first time was on his couch, coaxing you to bend over and let him massage and spank your soft, jiggly ass, which he swore was heaven sent when he plunged his tongue into your velvety folds, relishing in your soft moans and desperate grinds into his face.

The second time was in his bed, your legs pinned down onto the mattress while he tailed you, his cock plunging in and out of you as his arms wrapped around your body, allowing you to feel safe and comfortable while he dicked you down, feeling feral at the sight of your smooth tummy and soft tits.

The third and last time—because your virgin self simply couldn't take anymore—was when he bent you over and fucked you from behind on the foot of his bed.

His hands held your hips while he leaned over, physically holding you up on your jelly-like legs.

Your hands frantically fisted the sheets as he pounded into you, his firm thighs meeting your ass cheeks as he fucked you like there was no tomorrow.

Because, to him, there wasn't.

"F-Fuck! Oh, my God! Right there!" you sobbed. "Yes, please! Right there!"

He watched your pretty face contort in pleasure, loving how soft you felt pressed against him, and how you sounded moaning from the lips he'd been kissing all night.

"Nuh-uh," he huffed in your ear, leaning down to nip at your lobe. "S'not God that's doin' this, pretty. Who's really makin' you feel good?"

"Zoro!" you moaned, a pitiful whine following after. "H-How are you so good at this?"

He grinned, becoming cocky at seeing you lose your mind on his dick.

"You tell me," he teasingly ordered. "How good am I?"

SMACK!

The sharp sound of his hand connecting with your ass cheek made you let out a harsh groan of pleasure, your pussy clenching around him.

"So good!" you gasped, the sensations too much.

Feeling you tighten around him, Zoro let out a harsh grunt, fighting off the moan ready to leave his lips.

"Christ... body's so fuckin' perfect," he groaned, kneading one of your tits in his calloused hand as he sped up, hitting that spot inside of you that made you see stars. "Look at you... so damn pretty."

"Oh, Zoro! I can't!" you moaned, bottom lip quivering at the coil in your stomach wound tighter and tighter. "I can't...Z-Zoro, m'gunna! M'gunna—!"

"You gonna, gonna what?" he chuckled. "You wanna cum for me again?"

You pathetically nodded, forcing his grin even wider.

"So greedy..."

But so was he.

He would fuck you all night if he could, but he was reaching his limit same as you.

"Cum for me, (y/n)," he ordered, huskily, as he leaned down to your ear, slamming into you harder and you frantically rubbed your clit. "I'm close, too. Rub that little pussy and fuckin' give it to me, baby!"

It doesn't take long for him to blow his load inside of you, flooding you with cum that dripped down your thighs.

His moans of pleasure triggered you, causing your pussy to quiver and flutter around him as you came.

A moan of his name and a few swears left your lips as you rode it out, coating his cock in your sticky juices.

Turning around, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you in a tender moment of bliss.

Pressing his lips against yours, his hand came up to cup your cheek, the embrace feeling like nothing short of a goodbye.

When your highs finally subsided, Zoro gently pulled out of you, making your pussy spurt out his cum.

The sight nearly made him hard all over again.

'Fuuuuck...'

"Sorry," you groggily apologized, already half asleep as you laid down, your half-lidded, (e/c) eyes still sparkling in the moonlight.

Amused by your fucked out state, he scooped you up, effortlessly, carrying you up to the head of the bed and placing you down among the pillows.

With a yawn, he climbed in with you, stomach faintly fluttering as you rested your head on his chest, nuzzling tightly into his side.

"M'gonna miss you, Zoro," you softly said into the quiet, dimly lit room, "...A lot"

Carefully, he rested his hand on your back, his thumb drawing mindless circles into your skin.

As much as he loved this—your company, your touch, you—he knew that come morning, he would still have to leave.

He had a dream, and an obligation to the family he called his crew.

He couldn't just abandon that.

His brows furrowed, a look of determination settling on his face.

But that didn't mean he couldn't make you a promise.

"I'll come back for you," he stated, plainly, without a doubt in his mind. "When I'm the Greatest Swordsman... and when Luffy's King of the Pirates... I'll come back for you. And I'll take you out to sea, and show you all the places you read about in your books."

Looking up at him, your sleepy eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope, nearly turning him into a puddle.

"Really?" you asked, adorably.

With a nod, he pecked a soft kiss on your hairline, before leaning back into the pillows.

"Really."

BONUS!!

"Oi, Chuki!" Zoro called as he walked through the ruins, knapsack thrown over his shoulder. "Come out here! I gotta talk to you about somethin'!"

The swordsman had left his room in the wee hours of the morning, managing to wiggle out your grasp and clean himself up before placing a tender goodbye kiss on your forehead, leaving you to sleep.

The previous night introduced some new feelings to him, and if he was going to get a lick of sleep out at sea, he needed to take care of one final thing.

"C'mon! It's about (y/n)!"

At the sound of your name, the large humandrill immediately showed himself, jumping out from behind a stone column with a loud whoop, which sounded eerily like what's wrong.

"With me gone... and with Hawk-Eye on his trips for the Navy... (y/n)'s gonna be on this island all by herself," Zoro started, brows cinched together, seriously.

This was the only thing that was going to quell his worries.

"I don't know what's gonna happen in the next few years, but if any pirates, or even the World Government, come stickin' their noses around this place... you send them flyin', you understand?"

Using the handle of his sword, he pointed toward the castle, where you slept peacefully, safe and secure.

"No one goes near her. No one even makes it to the castle. You fight like your goddamn life depends on it, alright? 'Cause it does."

Surprised, the monkey swallowed thickly, especially when the swordsman's eye landed on him with the harshest glare he had ever seen.

Even harsher than Mihawk's.

"I come back here and find out that she got hurt on your watch... you, and all of your monkey pals, are finished... Understand?"

Frantic, and terrified, Chuki chittered in agreement, rigidly saluting the man for confirmation.

With a proud grin, Zoro nodded, continuing on his trek to the shore as he waved to the baboon, along with the hundred others fearfully watching from the trees.

"Good... I'll see you guys around."

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Timid Flames

Summary - In a politically arranged marriage, they unexpectedly find solace in each other. As they navigate the storm of familial conflict, a night of celebration reveals desires and bravery, challenging the bounds of their union and the roles they play in a dangerous game of power.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2759

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had only been wed for three moons—a union born out of political necessity, carefully arranged to forge a fragile peace. 

The bride, Alicent Hightower's youngest daughter, had been offered as part of King Viserys's latest attempt to mend the rift tearing apart his divided family. 

After the bitter fallout from the petition for Driftmark, this marriage had been the king's insistence, hoping it might soothe the growing tensions.

Surprisingly, the match had not been as cold and distant as some feared. 

In fact, much to Jace's amusement, our marriage had become rather... agreeable. 

Unlike my more impulsive and outspoken brothers, I shared Jace's temperament—thoughtful, measured, and often preferring quiet contemplation over conflict. 

This similarity made it easy for us to find common ground, and more often than not, we ended up agreeing with one another on most matters.

Jace, though shy at times, had grown fond of me quicker than he expected. In quiet moments, when he allowed himself to reflect on our marriage, he felt grateful. 

"You know," he once remarked with a soft chuckle as we shared a private dinner in Dragonstone, "I expected our union to be just another duty. But it hasn't felt like that at all." 

He reached across the table, lightly clasping my hand. "I enjoy this... us."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. "As do I. It's strange, isn't it? To be at ease in a marriage forged by others."

We were now bound for King's Landing, a return prompted by the upcoming wedding of my elder brother, Aemond. 

Though I could sense Jace and his brothers were not particularly eager to make the journey back to the capital so soon after leaving it, I longed to see my family again. 

I missed them—Helaena most of all, with her gentle spirit and enigmatic ways.

Standing at the ship's edge, I watched the shimmering blue waters stretch out before us, occasionally lifting my gaze to the sky. 

There, Silverwing, Vermax, and Arrax flew overhead, their gleeful screeches piercing the air as they relished the freedom of the open skies. The sight of the dragons always stirred something in me—a mix of awe and pride.

"Are you happy to be returning?" Jace's voice came from behind me, softer than the wind that tugged at our hair. 

I turned to find him watching me with that familiar, shy look on his face. I nodded, sighing with contentment.

"I am," I said, offering him a small smile before glancing down. "I apologize if you're not."

Jace shook his head and joined me at the railing, his shoulder brushing against mine as he leaned beside me. 

His fingers, warm and calloused from dragon riding, lightly grazed mine, sending a wave of warmth rushing through me.

"I'm fine," he assured me, though I could sense the faint unease in his tone. "It's Luke who's not faring well with the journey." 

He nodded towards his younger brother, who stood further down the ship's deck, looking paler than usual, his face scrunched with discomfort.

I chuckled softly. "Poor Luke."

Jace smiled at that, but there was a quietness between us now, a lingering tension not easily dismissed. 

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The grand hall of the Keep was filled with the sound of music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets as the celebrations for Aemond's wedding reached full swing. 

My brother looked every bit the proud groom, standing tall with his new bride by his side, but my focus wasn't on him. 

Instead, I was hyper-aware of the tension swirling around Jace and Luke, who sat beside me at our family's table, enduring a barrage of thinly veiled insults from my brothers.

Aegon, as usual, was at the centre of it, his words dipped in honeyed sarcasm as he spoke just loud enough for all of us to hear.

"How's the sea voyage treating you these days, Luke? Not planning on visiting Driftmark anytime soon, I hope," Aegon remarked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

The implication was clear—he was deliberately fanning the flames of the bitter conflict over Driftmark's succession, each word dripping with sarcasm designed to ignite tempers and deepen rifts, a cruel game that felt all too familiar.

Luke's jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes fixed on his plate, refusing to rise to the bait.

Jace, seated beside him, wasn't faring much better. He sat rigid, his shoulders tense, clearly biting his tongue to keep from responding.

"Must be difficult, sharing the same roof with those who think you don't belong," Aegon continued, his grin widening as he lifted his goblet to his lips.

I shot a sharp glance at Aegon, my irritation bubbling beneath the surface. 

Helaena, seated to my left, tried to offer me a reassuring smile, but even her calming presence wasn't enough to quell the frustration building inside me. I hated this constant tension, this incessant prodding from my brothers, who refused to let old wounds heal.

To drown out their jabs, I did the only thing I could think of at the moment, I reached for my goblet and took a deep sip of the rich wine. 

The warmth spread quickly through my body, dulling the edge of Aegon's words.

But one sip wasn't enough.

As the evening dragged on and the taunts kept coming—Aemond, more subtle but no less pointed in his barbed remarks—I found myself reaching for the goblet again and again, the wine a welcome escape. 

It made everything seem a little softer, a little less sharp. Even Jace, who sat brooding beside me, looked more relaxed in the golden glow of the torchlight as the alcohol dulled my senses.

By the time the feast was at its height, I was no longer just drinking to forget. I was enjoying the lightness in my limbs, the freedom of inhibition. 

The wine had worked its magic, and I found myself smiling at Jace—really smiling, more freely than I had in moons.

"You're too tense," I teased, my voice soft and slightly slurred as I leaned toward him with a grin. 

My fingers toyed with the rim of my goblet as I looked at him with a mischievous glint in my eyes.

Jace blinked, clearly taken aback by my sudden shift in demeanour. His eyes widened, and I saw a flush creep up his neck. 

He wasn't used to this—me, this playful, open side of myself that rarely came out. 

Normally, I was thoughtful and composed, matching his temperament. But tonight, I felt like throwing caution to the wind.

"Relax a little, husband," I whispered, leaning closer than I normally would, my lips grazing the shell of his ear as I spoke. 

My hand drifted lazily to his arm, fingers trailing along the fabric of his sleeve. "We're at a wedding. Let yourself enjoy it."

Jace stiffened, his entire body going rigid as he struggled to process what was happening. He wasn't accustomed to this kind of open flirtation from me, and certainly not in public. 

His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink, and he swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape.

"I—uh, I'm fine," he stammered, though his voice betrayed him. He sounded anything but fine. His face was a mix of confusion, surprise, and something else I couldn't quite place.

I laughed softly, delighted at his reaction. It was rare to see Jace flustered, but here he was—blushing, his carefully composed demeanour slipping with each teasing word I threw his way. 

 The way he tried so hard to remain serious only made it more fun.

"No, you're not," I teased again, my voice taking on a singsong quality as I leaned even closer, my breath warm against his ear. "You're all stiff and serious. You should loosen up a bit."

Jace's gaze flickered to the goblet in my hand, his concern growing. "I think you've had enough," he said gently, his fingers brushing against mine as he tried to take the goblet from me.

But I wasn't having it. I laughed, pulling the goblet back with a grin. 

"Don't be such a bore, Jace," I teased, the wine making me bolder than I'd ever been. "Don't tell me what to do, not when I'm having so much fun."

The way his face flushed deeper and his eyes widened at the playful lilt of my voice sent a thrill through me. 

For a moment, I forgot about the barbed comments from Aegon and Aemond, the lingering tension in the room. 

All I cared about was the way Jace was looking at me—flustered, surprised, and just a little bit helpless.

"I—I think you should rest," Jace tried again, his voice now tinged with nervous laughter. He was still trying to be the responsible one, the composed husband. 

But his usual control was slipping, and I could see the internal struggle in his eyes.

Instead of listening, I giggled and leaned even closer, letting my fingers dance up his arm. "Or..." I purred, a wicked smile curling my lips, "maybe you should dance with me."

Before Jace could protest, I was on my feet, pulling him up with me. He let out a startled laugh as I dragged him onto the dance floor, his hand clasped tightly in mine. 

His surprise was clear, but I was already spinning him into the centre of the hall, the music and wine making my movements feel light and carefree.

"Wait—what—" Jace stammered, completely caught off guard. He stumbled slightly as I twirled him, clearly not expecting me to take the lead so boldly. 

His eyes darted around the room, and I could see the mix of amusement and mortification on his face.

The people around us watched with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement, but I barely noticed. 

All I could focus on was Jace—how out of sorts he was, how flustered he looked, and how much fun it was to see him like this.

"I think I'm going to regret this," Jace muttered under his breath, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

He looked at me with a mixture of exasperation and affection, clearly at a loss for how to handle this version of me.

"Not if you have fun," I whispered, pulling him close as the music swelled. 

The wine had made me bold, and I relished the way he seemed to falter under my touch. For once, Jace was the one who couldn't keep his composure.

As the night wore on, I continued to flirt, to tease, to dance. Jace was a blushing mess by the end of it, his usual stoic demeanour completely shattered.

He loved the extra attention—I could tell by the way he kept stealing glances at me, his eyes lingering just a bit too long, his lips twitching into an almost smile every time I laughed or teased him.

Even though he tried to be the responsible one, I knew he secretly enjoyed it—the way I made him feel tonight, how I drew him out of his shell. 

"Are you even trying to enjoy yourself?" I teased, glancing up at Jace as I pulled him onto the dance floor once again.

He gave me a small, shy smile, his hand resting on the small of my back as he followed my lead. 

"I am. Just... keeping an eye on you," he said gently, though I could sense his amusement beneath the worry.

"Keeping an eye on me? I'm your wife, not some unruly dragon," I said with a smirk, spinning away from him with a playful twirl. 

He caught me again, steadying me with the ease of someone well-practised in handling situations beyond his control. 

I leaned in closer, speaking just loud enough for him to hear, "But I like it when you watch me."

Jace's blush was immediate, his gaze dropping for a brief moment before he met my eyes again. He looked as if he wanted to say something—something meaningful—but just then, a familiar voice interrupted us.

"Seems you've had quite a bit of wine tonight," a deep, smooth voice said from behind me.

I turned, finding myself face-to-face with Lord Ormund Hightower, one of my distant cousins on my mother's side. His smile was easy, but there was something in his gaze that felt too familiar, too lingering as it settled on me.

"Perhaps," I replied, trying to maintain my composure as I felt his eyes linger a bit too long. "But it's a wedding. Surely a bit of wine and dancing is expected."

"Of course, princess," Lord Ormund said with a chuckle, his gaze sliding between Jace and me. 

"Though one might say your enthusiasm tonight stands out." His tone was light, but the implication was clear. 

His gaze flicked back to me, lingering in a way that made me uncomfortable, a hint of something more than politeness in his look. "I didn't realize you were so... spirited."

Jace's expression shifted beside me, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He moved closer, his hand settling protectively at my waist, but still, he said nothing.

"Spirited, perhaps," I said, trying to brush off the comment with a smile. "But no more than any other on a night like this."

Lord Ormund gave a slow nod, his gaze lingering on me a beat longer before he added, "It's good to see you enjoying yourself. Though, if you're not careful, some might get the wrong impression of your... exuberance." 

His smile widened, a teasing glint in his eye. "Not everyone will see it as harmless fun."

Before I could react, Jace stepped forward, his posture straight and his tone steady, but there was an unmistakable edge to his voice.

"I think you've made your point, my lord," Jace said calmly, though his grip on my waist tightened ever so slightly. "And it's noted. But I would remind you that my wife's behaviour is of no concern to anyone here, except perhaps me."

The subtle warning in his voice wasn't lost on Lord Ormund, who raised his hands in mock surrender, the smile never leaving his face. 

"No offence meant, Prince Jacaerys. Merely a friendly observation."

Jace's gaze didn't waver, his expression unyielding. "Of course. But observations, when unnecessary, can sometimes be mistaken for something else." 

His voice remained level, but there was a quiet protectiveness in his tone that made it clear the conversation was over.

Lord Ormund hesitated, then gave a slight bow. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, both of you," he said before turning on his heel and walking away, though I could feel the weight of his gaze still lingering behind him.

As soon as Lord Ormund was out of earshot, I turned to Jace, my heart pounding not from fear but from the rush of the moment. I wasn't used to seeing him like this—so firm, so sure of himself. 

There was something deeply reassuring in the way he had stepped in, calmly but assertively.

"You didn't have to do that," I said softly, though I couldn't deny the warmth spreading through my chest.

Jace met my gaze, the tension in his expression softening now that we were alone again. "Yes, I did," he replied simply. "You shouldn't have to put up with that. Especially not from him."

I looked at him for a long moment, taking in the way his jaw was still set, the way his hand remained at my waist as if he wasn't quite ready to let go. 

His protectiveness stirred something deep within me—a mixture of gratitude and something else, something more intense.

"You don't usually speak up like that," I said, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. "I rather like it."

Jace looked slightly embarrassed, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

"Someone has to look out for you, especially when you seem determined to cause a scene," he said, though his tone was light, playful.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Perhaps I'm more trouble than you bargained for."

Jace's smile grew, and this time, it was genuine and warm, the blush fading from his cheeks as his confidence returned. 

"I knew what I was getting into. And, if I'm being honest, I don't mind it."

The confession, quiet and simple, hung in the air between us. It wasn't grand or dramatic, but it meant something. Jace didn't just tolerate my boldness tonight—he liked it. 

He liked me, in all my messiness and unpredictability.

For the rest of the night, his hand remained at my waist, steady and reassuring, a quiet but constant reminder that I wasn't alone.

That no matter what happened, Jace would always be there, standing by my side, ready to protect me from whatever—or whomever—tried to push me too far.

A/n - I need to stop with the marriage of convenience trope x

[lucifermorningstxr]

Lucifer simply shrugged with a smirk at Chloe's response to his commentary. "To each their own, Detective. That apocalypse bit though..." His brow raised as he continued, "that's another story. We'll see how that works out for him. They always love being monsters... until they don't." What could've been a deeper emotional moment in the wake of recent events was simply a brief comment as the pair's contact eased any and all apprehensions the night could've brought. The Devil found it easy to discuss these things with his human in a way that he'd never felt with another. All part of the vulnerability, right? Be the topic about monsters, divinity, Heaven and Hell, or the simply mortal concepts of friendship and partnership, with Chloe, Lucifer was an open book. That being said, even with his perpetual honest always the forefront, he didn't want her to feel dismissed. That's right, for once in his eons, Lucifer saw someone as his equal, maybe even higher than him, and he deeply cared about her thoughts, feelings, and opinions now and always. "No, I get it, Detective. Just because I'm a fan of her work doesn't mean she's as perfect as she sees. Not too different than my own parents, if you think about it. Mine paved the way."

Chloe couldn't have been cuter if she tried, and as far as Lucifer was concerned, that's why she was so damn cute. Because she wasn't trying, and neither was he. After all these years, to be with one another sans pretense and share that vulnerability like only they could was perfect beyond comprehension. "You're welcome, Detective. And thank you too." Every muscle was in exercise to resist the desire to kiss his human. "Thank you for making me a better man." Relishing in her presence, Lucifer simply smiled into their contact, a beast at ease in this moment with his human.

"Right. He's so powerful, he forgot to hide his true face. I understand now." Lucifer smirked, continuing his contact with Chloe as he jested. With each passing moment together, his human looked more and more beautiful, but he had to resist his urges for once and not make a move. Exchanging Deckerstar-branded banter pressed skin-to-skin would have to be enough for the time being, and it most certainly was. "My point was," Lucifer went on to clarify in response to Chloe's notable irritation, "that as iconic as she is, even the most legendary beings aren't as perfect as they're painted out to be. Just look at my Dad. Billions of sycophants and yet can't even be bothered to let his Lightbringer live at home past his rebellious stage." Softening at what came next, what Lucifer would proceed to say was practically a whisper. "No, Detective. You know by now that if it leaves my lips, it's true. What I've just said is all true, at least in my expert opinion." Resisting the urge to plant a kiss somewhere on that perfect body, Lucifer relaxed into his human and the bed respectively as the conversation would continue.

Lucifer shook his head at Chloe's retort regarding her mother, his grip on her tightening in a reassuringly comforting manner. "Perhaps it wasn't what she believed in, but who. I'm not sure she knew what all was at stake that day, but what I am confident in is that she stood up for who she believed her. Her late husband, your father, and," He'd draw a finger to point up at her as he finished the statement, "you. She believed in you, Detective, but what she couldn't believe is another mother could deliberately hurt her child in a way she never would. Like you said, your mother loves you. I'm not sure my mother would know what to do with that."

Tha moment was so genuine, even more honest than the usual brand of Lucifer honesty, because it was vulnerable, and with Chloe, it was a safe space. He wanted nothing more than to make this moment last forever, to extend it into the ether with all of his purest intentions, but after all that had just happened, the forehead connection was as good as anything. Slow and steady wins the race, so they say, and with Chloe, Lucifer hadn't wanted to win so badly in all of his eons. So, he'd just relish in this moment of contact instead.

"All I'm saying is, they instilled a morality in you like I've never seen outside of the Silver City. I used to find it annoying, but now I find it perfect. And that's the honest truth, Detective."

[dilftaroooo]

hello hello helloooo. this is a continuation of my gym bro gojo imagine. You search through gojo’s hamper and fap to his dirty briefs eeeww. the events aren't in chronological order, just the reader's horny experiences

tags: minors dni + gn!reader + reader's sex is unspecified + graphic blowjob + very uhhh testicle-centric ig + satoru rides ur face + oral sex + sex scenes are just fantasies (not real) + perverted reader again + underwear sniffing + scent kink.

You never thought you’d swoop this low. It was beyond an invasion of privacy; crossing the morality border and arriving in the field of degeneracy. Resting in the palm between clammy digits lay a pair of gray briefs -- your roommate's briefs -- Satoru's briefs. You found it by thoroughly searching his hamper, hiding underneath the pile of graphic tees and wifebeaters (don't ask why you were sifting through his dirty clothes in the first place). It's riddled in his potent musk meaning it's been there for a good minute and the scent only reinforced your presumption.

Your flesh crawls under the gusts of wind blowing from his ceiling fan, initiating your blooming wariness as you stand in the middle of his room. You glance to your left at the open door of Satoru's room.

Gojo had left temporarily to pick up some snacks (most likely an abundance of goodies tainted with added sugars and grease). He wouldn’t know what you took from him. How long would it take for someone to find out their briefs were gone? Undergarments are the last thing people think to go missing, right? No. You shouldn't keep them. That would be too over the top.

You decide to sit at the edge of his bed as you fight with yourself internally, staring at the piece of cloth -- cloth made for the most intimate part of the human body. It conceals his groin, from the leaky tip of his mushroom head to his hanging balls. Your mind wanders to something more lascivious as you inquire if he still keeps his pubes. You can imagine him keeping his happy trail, trimming it up a bit, just to keep minds fresh with lust as they look at silver strands of hair starting below his cute belly button and ending beneath the hem of his sweatpants.

Though, you believe the hairs on his balls would be gone for his hookups to gargle on them. He'd be aware of how uncomfortable the hairs would be down their throats. The pleasure would be mutual since he'd be able to feel their wet tongue directly lick the loose skin of his sack. The tendons of his legs would tighten and his toes would clench the floor underneath him as he attempts to keep his groans at bay.

It would be hard for him, undoubtedly so. The wet swell of the appendage would skillfully cup his testicles, sucking in their cheeks and releasing with a degenerate 'pop'. You can envision him tilting his head back to look at the dim ceiling, growling out a shakey 'fuuuck' as he grips the scalp of his fervid hookup -- bobbing their head and relishing in the struggled intakes of air.

You struggle for your own breath as Satoru's room starts to get humid. Materialized images of your hot roommate's sex life plague your head. You were completely unaware of the hand that found itself touching the fabric that barricades your genitals. Fingers grope you in mannerisms you only know; familiar flicks, strokes, and taps composed in patterns you could only produce. A question arises within you: When did you start touching yourself?

Satoru's dirty briefs find solace beneath your nostrils, the crotch region burrowed deep in your face. It was tainted in sweat. It stunk. It stunk with Satoru's smell. However, humiliation was nothing but a distant stranger as it remained near your nose and your fingers continued to dance along that spot that made you writhe.

Another fantasy covered with unapologetic libido haunts you again as Satoru hovers over the apex of your face. Nearly sitting on your collarbones, the base of his cock drifts along the tip of your nose and you juggle his balls with your tongue, the frantic piece of muscle excitingly glides around him, sucking out an unrestrained moan from him. He'd put one hand on his headboard while the other finds purchase on your cheek -- the bulging vein that crawls along his index finger fills your peripherals.

"Look at you, a good little thing taking my balls down your mouth. This is what you've been wanting for a while, huh?" is what he'd say between quivering lips.

His stamina was of a revved-up motor, grinding on your face with sloppy thrusts in search of climax. He'd want you to come with him too, of course -- ordering you to keep pleasuring your filthy fucking sex as he humps your nose like a sly dog. You'd dig the nails of your left hand in his perk ass and he'd clench them in response. You know you'd come for him. You were just as close as he was once you felt his quads shiver near the shell of your ear.

His cock tip would leak precum and your genitals would begin pulsing to the beat of Satoru's thrusts. His sweat glands would open up, seeping out his natural, potent odor. It's bliss for you as you deeply inhale its chemicals like it's gasoline. Sniffing in the toxic fumes for its scent is addictive.

The mere sight of him riding your face as though he's in heat, his must that taints the room, his clenched jawline as he feels himself close to ejaculating; it was all enough to make you cum. And he'd follow suit.

The ropes of semen shoot in the locs of your hair, gluing the strands together. He'd love how it'd decorate you. Like a fucked up Christmas tree. His smile would shine brightly before his form would disintegrate, fading away into atoms.

You'd blink once. Then twice -- man. You finally find the gall to sit up from his bed, making sure there are no bodily fluids left on his sheets before walking up to his hamper. Sinister, opaque clouds slowly start to invade his room, progressively making their way over your head as shame pours over you. How could you do such a thing in HIS own room? A long disappointed sigh sneaks out of your lungs. You'd continue to mope in your room before he catches you standing in his room, caught red-handed.

You were about to throw his briefs on top of the dirty pile of clothes until you saw something peculiar. Bending over to pick up a piece of cloth, you inspect it.

Its red hue was obnoxious and its style was unfitting for Satoru's stature -- or rather his style in general. You rotate the undergarment to find out that it's unexpectedly in your size. You and Satoru weren't even remotely close in size either. He's a big man with big muscles and you're not even in that caliber of staggering height and bulging veins.

You squint at the cloth, deep in thought. Where could these come from? It felt like ages until your eyes widened at a distant memory of laundry day and a feeling of something being missing as you folded each of your clothes to be put away.

Satoru took your underwear?!

[eggrollforyou]

How Can I Say I Love You Part 2

Law x F!Reader

WC: 4191

CW: angst to fluff, parental/parental figure loss, tooth aching fluff, minor Law backstory spoilers (if you're not caught up through Dressrosa), seems like an OC but I'm too lazy for that, so leader insert 🤣, mutual pining, post time skip 

A/N: Thank you all for patiently waiting for part 2! I'm not super confident on part 2 so feedback would be wonderful!! I hope you enjoy!

Part One

He's chasing after you, running through the thick tropical forest, dodging fallen trees and cutting through vines getting in his way from catching up to you. “Y/N! Wait! I have a safe place to hideout!” he calls out to you hoping to get you to finally stop. You slow down to a jog, breathing heavily, “Well, why the fuck didn't you say that sooner, Law?” you grin at him. “I'll follow you,” you huff. He quickly leads you back toward the shore line, you hear the waves crashing and smell the sea air. Suddenly he stops and puts his hand out. You look at him curiously and he smirks at you, “Room….” You begin to question him, “What are y-” 

“Shambles.”

Suddenly you're in a room with metal walls and it takes you a moment to get your bearings. “Whoa…Law, what the fuck was that?” you ask as you set the heaping bag of stolen goods down on the floor with a loud thud. 

“Still causing mischief, I see,” he chuckles. “Don't worry, we're safe. You're on my ship.” 

“Ship?!”

“The Polar Tang. I'm the Captain of the Heart Pirates, you haven't seen our bounty posters?” he brags, cheeks slightly turning pink as he realizes what he's doing. “Well, look at you,” you beam at him. “Give me a tour!” you practically yell as you lunge forward bringing him into a big hug. You don't see it, but Law’s face and ears are pink at your show of affection. He reaches his arms around you to return the hug, hesitantly, processing as if this were real. He relishes in the smell of you, you smell like the sea with a hint of coconut and amber and his heart swells for a moment. His feelings for you rushing back like a tsunami, like they were a book tucked away on a dusty shelf in the back of a library to be pulled out again. He clears his throat and pulls back quickly, fearing you'll see how he feels for you, even after all these years. “C’mon, I'll show you around,” his voice suddenly stern and serious.

Law gives you a tour of the submarine and as he goes into the most boring explanation of what it takes to operate one, you get lost in your thoughts. He's here, in front of me again. Your heart skips a beat. You were never able to muster the courage to express your feelings for him. He was always brilliant, you knew he'd be able to make it as a pirate and here he was, Captain (and a doctor) to a crew that you could tell he loved, despite his seriousness. The Surgeon of Death. But you still saw the young man that you fell for years ago. Always ready for an adventure, ready for a fight. But he was always softer with you, late at night as you both pointed out constellations to each other, watching for shooting stars. Seeing the universe reflected in his eyes. You snapped out of it when you heard him say they were leaving in the morning. “You're leaving?” He nods. “Um…I have a huge favor to ask, could I hitch a ride to your next stop? Clearly I've exhausted what I could here…” you chuckle as you wring your fingers together nervously. “I won't be a lout, I promise, I'll take on whatever duties I need to earn my keep,” you rattle quickly. 

How could Law ever tell you no? His heart is practically jumping out of his chest, but he has to keep himself in check. Clearing his throat again, “H-how about you just stay with us for a while… A-as long as you need.” he asks nervously, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Are you sure?,” he nods,”Thank you, Law! I promise, I won't cause any trouble,” quick to accept before he changes his mind. He smiles warmly at you, “Yea, I’m sure. Let me take you to your quarters.” He shows you where you'll be staying, “Well, I guess this is where I'll leave you. Get some rest. I have a lot of work to do, so I'll be in my office. I'll introduce you to the crew when they return.”

“Thank you, Law. Really….it…it's really nice to see you again,” you say quietly. He nods at you, “It's good to see you too,” and he turns around and walks down the hall to go back to his office. You flop yourself down on the small bed, finally able to take a breath. How in the world does this keep happening? Maybe I should tell him? Your heart aches slightly. What would that accomplish? I'm not staying forever….maybe I should just keep my mouth shut. Back in his office Law contemplates the same quandary. I should tell her….at least it'll help with the regret….oh, who am I fucking kidding?! What does it matter, she's not staying forever…. It's pointless. I shouldn't say anything. He shakes his head at his resolution, but part of him can’t quell the excitement of you being around for just a bit longer. Looking over at his piles of paperwork he takes a deep sigh and pulls a stack in front of him, grabbing the papers on the top. 

Later that evening the entire crew returned to the ship. You giddily greet Bepo, jumping into the big ball of fluff in a warm embrace, “Y/N!!!! Garchu!” he yells as he nuzzles his soft face onto yours, nearly smothering you as you laugh. You give Penguin and Shachi a hug as well. They're still the same silly group you remember fondly. Everyone on the ship is very welcoming, but as soon as Law walks into the galley, their demeanor shifts. They quieten down from their raucous conversations as he looks over the crew giving them a nod. Shachi and Penguin loudly shout, “Captain! Look! It's Y/N,” as they wiggle their eyebrows with sly grins on their faces- as if they didn't know he was the one that brought you on board. He gives them a stern look, trying to hide his mortification. He always tried to hide the depth of his feelings about you but they knew him better than that. 

They constantly teased him, “When are you gonna tell her you like her?!”

“You never know, she might like you too.”

“Don't be a baby!”

He clears his throat, and in a commanding voice you weren’t used to hearing coming out of Law, “Everyone. We have a guest,” he motions to your direction, “Y/N. She'll be with us for a while. I've added her to rotations. The revisions are posted. I expect you all to continue to meet your duties and I expect you all to train her and get her up to speed for the next few weeks.”

“Yes, Captain,” everyone agrees. 

This version of Law looks good on him, you think. And suddenly, you find yourself pining after him again like when you were 15. You fight the blush creeping up your chest and your cheeks. Instead, you distract yourself joking with your old friends through the remainder of dinner. 

Weeks have passed and you've found your rhythm on the ship. In the time you've spent here, you've noticed that Law has grown up to be much more serious. He doesn't joke around much anymore and he's often brooding in his office. Well, you think he's brooding. You don't really know what he does in there, but he spends a lot of time in it. One day you decide to find out, walking up to his door when you were off duty, knocking gently. “Come in,” he calls out. You slowly open the door and poke your head in, “Hi! Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. You’ve been locked away in here for days and the smell is starting to seep out into the halls.” Law’s eyes grow wide as he tries to nonchalantly hide smelling himself by faking a stretch. You giggle at his reaction and his gaze instantly softens a bit, “O-Oh….yea, I’m good. Just reading,” as he holds up the most recent medical textbook he's drowned himself in. 

You walk in, making your way to his desk, peering over all the scattered reports and journals, “Hmmm..boring! Do you have anything GOOD to read?” you joke. He peers over to his bookshelf, “Not much, I don’t get a lot of time for recreational reading but I have stuff on that shelf. You’re welcome to read anything there….just, don’t let it leave the office please.” You look over the various books, some science fiction, Hmm, never thought he’d be into science fiction, until you see a smaller set, Sora comics. You remember him going on and on about these comics when he was younger. “You still have these?” you snort pulling a few copies out. Law glances over to see what you’re holding. “Well…yea. Those are awesome…just please, be careful with them. They’re hard to come by outside of the North Blue,” he warns. You hum in agreement as you sit down in the chair he has by the bookshelf, “Do you mind?” You ask as you peer over the top of the comic. Law nods, “Go for it.” You both sit in the quiet room, the only discernible sounds are each of you turning pages as you read. It's a quiet comfort. One that turns into a routine after a few weeks. You find yourself more in his office than your own room to relax. He's set up a small corner for you, moving the spare chair over to make space for a small end table. Letting you keep a blanket on the chair. 

Sometimes when neither of you can focus, you simply chat with a warm drink. There's always a chill in the air being in the submarine, despite the close quarters. But you find comfort in your blanket and with Law's company. Over the weeks, the crew have noticed a change in Law’s behavior. He's less…harsh. He seems happier, despite being as quiet as he usually is. It's a welcome change. 

With all the time you've spent together, you're in Law’s thoughts even more. He wishes he had the courage to say those three little words, but the thought terrifies him. He didn't want the target on his head to shift to yours by mere association. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to you. 

One evening, you were both in his office. Reading, as usual. You made a habit to start buying a few books at every island stop. Adding to Law’s library. You picked up a few books, some silly new romance series the shopkeeper recommended. Maybe it was the book giving you the courage, but you felt like you couldn't hold your feelings back anymore. You peeked over at him, watching him intently as he was lost in his own reading. You loved the way his nose crinkled a little bit when he was reading something that really caught his attention, the way his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, deep in concentration. His raven locks, ruffled and messy from him taking off his hat. 

Your heart fluttered thinking about his hands, how warm they must be. What they would feel like with his fingers intertwined with yours. Suddenly, you break the silence, “Law…” he peers over at you. “Hmm?” He hums.  “Have you…have you had any…. romantic interests?” you ask before you realize what you're saying. Your face suddenly dusted with pink, hoping he can't see your blush in the dim ambient light. Law’s eyes grow wide in surprise, he opens his mouth and closes it again, unsure what to say. He shifts, sitting straight up, “Um…no, not really...there was someone, but….nothing ever happened. Nothing..COULD happen,” he grows quiet. Hoping to keep his answers vague and short so you wouldn't press. “Mmmm,” you ponder. Could he be talking about me? Sure, our time together was short, but everything with him feels so…right. Like this is all second nature…he feels like…home. Law quickly returns his gaze to his book. He was dying to ask you the same but he didn't want to step further into the territory. “Have you ever thought about….us?” you ask pensively, staring in his direction, afraid to make eye contact. Suddenly, Law coughs, “N-no….I, uh, I think I should get to bed. Long day tomorrow,” he gets up quickly. “Stay as long as you'd like,” he grumbles as he hurriedly walks out of the office heading straight to his quarters. You're left dumbfounded in the office. Unsure what happened and unable to collect your thoughts about it. You thought you read him correctly, you thought he liked you and enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his. You stand up, fighting hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Walking back to your room, completely dejected.

At lunch a few days later, Shachi and Penguin sit down next to you, as you pick at your food, unable to scrounge up much of an appetite. “Y/N, what's up? You seem….upset,” Shachi asks. it startles you out of your thoughts, “OH! It's….nothing. Probably just need some sunshine. Still not used to living in a submarine,” you force a chuckle. They look at each other with a knowing glance but quickly return to looking at you before you notice. “Yeah, it can take some getting used to, but we've only got a few more days left until our next stop, so you'll have the ground beneath your feet soon enough,” Penguin adds. You sigh, “Yeah, I'm sure some sunshine will fix me right up,” forcing a half smile. 

You just wanted to sit and chat with Law but it seemed like he was avoiding you since that night in his office. You wanted to crack a joke and see his smile. He seemed so easily flustered now, you wanted to mess with him, make him laugh. He's changed a lot, you think. I just gotta make it through another few days and I can figure out what I'm doing next. I always thought he might've liked me, but obviously things have changed. We were so young… Maybe my time here is coming to an end. I should think about getting off at the next stop.

Later that evening, it's long after dinner, and you're finally off duty. Sitting in the galley again, playing cards and drinking games with Ikkaku, Shachi, and Penguin. Suddenly, Law comes in to grab a snack and water, taking a break from reading his medical journals. “C’mon! Captain! Take a break with us,” Shachi calls over. Your shoulders tighten and you freeze. You look over and see Law. He makes eye contact with you but quickly breaks it, swallowing the bite of rice ball he was chewing on, “I've got papers t-” he gets cut off by Shachi, “Aw, don't say that. Just a couple games and one drink, Captain, and we'll leave you alone.” You stare, wide-eyed, holding your breath as the rest of the group plead with him. He sighs in defeat, “Okay. Okay.. Just a little bit, and only to shut you up,” he puts his hands up in fake surrender. You let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding when he sits down at the table, giving him a shy but sad smile when he looks at you again. 

As the night goes on, you continue your drinking and card games. It's been several games and drinks but Law is enjoying the break and decides his work can wait a little longer. He relaxes as the alcohol works its way into his system. Before long, it's late into the night. Shachi and Penguin are passed out on the table, Ikkaku has gone to bed, and it's just you and Law. You aren't even sure what card game you're playing anymore, well into the tipsy territory after your 5 beers. “So, what are your plans when your time with us is done?” Law asks quietly, trying to hide how his heart hurts at the thought.  “Um…y’know, I'm not sure. I haven't really gotten that far yet. I just kind of island-hop where I can. I can't really make a ‘normal’ job work. I mean..especially with what I've had to do to make ends meet,” you chuckle. “Yeah…being a wanted thief will put a damper on that,” Law laughs. You suck your teeth, “Tch, yeah, I suppose. But I'm a really good shot, so I pick up odd jobs with other miscreants where I can,” you wink. Your first real smile in days. Law’s heartstrings tug at that smile. He's stolen glances of you around the ship. You've not had a real smile since that night, he can tell they're forced and part of him feels guilty. He's wanted nothing more than to be with you the entire time you've been on the ship. Hug you close, run his hands through your hair, kiss you….tell you how much you meant to him. Should I ask her to join the crew? Should I just tell her how I feel? He thinks about what it would be like to climb into bed with you, pull you into his chest and wake up to your beautiful smile first thing in the morning but suddenly he's snapped from his thoughts as he feels your hand on top of his, not realizing you asked him a question. “Law, you ok?” You ask. “Sorry, I must be tired, what did you say?”

“What are your plans? I mean, you've got being a pirate down, clearly, but do you have a goal in mind?” The warmth from your hand radiates into his and spreads through his body. Suddenly he feels flushed. “I…uh..I have a plan in the works. First, it's gotta start with becoming a Warlord,” he says quickly, snapping himself out of his daydream. “Oh? Warlord, huh? That sounds….dubious, but I'm sure you could pull it off. You've got a great crew, and your devil fruit powers are pretty formidable, I'm sure you'll get there,” you give him a cheeky grin, bumping your shoulder into his, completely forgetting how you scared him off before.

Your actions of getting close to him are bolder, the alcohol leaving all your inhibitions behind. “I look forward to reading about your adventures in the paper, now that I know to look out for the Heart Pirates and their handsome Captain,” your voice practically a whisper. Law's eyes go wide, Did she just say handsome?! You lean forward, steeling your resolve to just kiss him. You're so close to each other, you can feel each other's breath and suddenly, Law coughs, sitting up quickly, “I, uh, I gotta go. Papers to read…reports…goodnight,” he says tight lipped and he's gone before you can blink twice. You're left sitting at the table, heart cracked and slowly bleeding. Fighting the burning tears building up in your eyes, you take a deep breath and wake up Shachi and Penguin, “Get to bed boys, it's late,” as you get up to go to bed. 

Once you make it to your bed, you try to find some comfort and shed your tears into your pillow until sleep takes you. Law stands quietly outside your room with his finger about to tap on your door until he hears you. Heart aching as he hears your sobs and he quietly retreats. You fucking idiot.

Law spends the next few days absolutely avoiding you, you decide. He’s shifted his meal times to eat before the rest of the crew or when he couldn’t swing that, he would eat in his office. When he sees you on the ship, walking toward each other, he immediately veers off or turns around. It hurts you every time and it kills Law every time he sees your face fall because he’s the cause of your pain. And you continued to blame your woeful demeanor on the lack of sunlight. No one bought it but they all kept their comments to themselves. Except for Shachi and Penguin who would occasionally throw a jab at Law wondering if he was EVER going to tell you how he really felt. This is for the best. It’s best for her, it’ll keep her safe. The ship was fast approaching the next island stop to restock. You were spending your last few hours being with your friends, new and old, heart already aching because you would be leaving them, unsure when you’d see them again. When the ship docked, you left with the crew, bag hoisted over your shoulder to head into town. Law looked at you with forlorn eyes, “Are you- are you leaving?” You return his same sad gaze, “Uh, yeah, sorry. I meant to tell you sooner but I couldn't ever pin you down. But I'll be happy to help with this last restock. I'm going with Ikkaku,” as you point to the island. You couldn’t bear to leave just yet. 

You checked into the Inn and deposited your bag, heading back out with Ikkaku to run your final errands with this rag tag group of pirates that you’ve come to love in your time with them. 

“Captain, you’ve GOTTA tell her. This is like the universe screaming at you! You can’t NOT listen to the universe…”Penguin jabs at Law, Shachi standing next to him, arms crossed. They’re both clearly fed up with Law’s inability to deal with his emotions. After all, you were their friend too. Bepo walks up, “Huh? What’s going on guys?”

“We’re trying to convince the Captain to pull his head out of his ass and tell Y/N how he feels,” Shachi tells Bepo. “Oooooh, yea! Captain, PLEASE, ask her to stay! She’s been a great part of the crew,” he practically yells, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of you staying. Law crosses his arms, “Will you three knock it off?! It’s not that easy…..I mean…she probably wants nothing to do with me at this point. I…I don’t know how to fix this, and she’ll be better off without. She gets into enough trouble on her own as it is, the last thing she needs is my target on her back as well,” he argues. “She can take care of herself, Captain. Why don't you let her make that decision for herself?” Shachi quips back with Penguin nodding in agreement. Law sighs. Ok. Fine. They're right, I have to tell her. 

You were making your way back to the ship after a couple hours running errands with Ikkaku. The closer you got, the harder it was. It meant that you would be walking away from something you grew to cherish so much. All those nights you spent finding your thoughts drifting to Law when you laid out underneath the star lit sky when you were alone, and you managed to find him again, only to leave. It made your body heavy, your chest hurt, feeling like your heart was wrenching. You took in a deep breath. Readying yourself for the goodbye you felt you were forced to make but didn't want to. I never got to say goodbye the last two times. Maybe I can find some closure with a goodbye on my own terms. You set the bags down with Ikkaku on the deck, others ready to grab it, taking them down into the bowels of the ship. Law walks over and clears his throat quietly. Ikkaku looks up, “Oh, hi Captain, I'll, uh, leave you two alone,” she walks off. It's the quietest you've ever seen her. She looks at you with a somber gaze and a half smile. You pull a hand out from behind your back, giving a small wave. 

“Look, Law, it's ok, you don't have to-”

“Y/N,” he sighs, collecting his thoughts, trying to calm his nerves. “I-I….love you. Please…please don't leave. I'm sorry I'm such an idiot…. I've always loved you. I-” you cut him off, jumping onto him. Pressing your lips to his in a fervent kiss. He grabs your body tightly, holding it to him, not leaving any space between you. As you wrap your legs around him, gripping your arms tightly over his shoulders, around his neck. He returns your kiss, pouring all of the feelings he tried to hide away into it. You pull away to breathe, resting your forehead on his as you try to catch your breath. “I love you too, Law.” He presses a long kiss, closing his eyes, to your forehead. “Don't leave, join my crew. Be with me, please. I never stopped thinking about you all these years. Let me show you how much I love you. I'll spend the rest of my days making up for lost time,” he pleads. “I thought you'd never ask,” you smile as he carries you into the ship.

Tags: @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[thesoulforgeorder]

Damn that last ask...

How would the ros act if they managed to capture the people who tortured mc?

That last ask really said, what if we all enjoyed some angst tonight? It was really fun to write and people seemed to really enjoy it! As for reactions to catching...

Mina - It would be the first and last time that Mina would break protocol. She was instructed to bring them in alive, but they died at her hands. She would write down in her report that it was necessary. They weren't coming quietly. Only she would know the truth.

Nico - He stalked them like prey, relishing in their fear, savouring their screams. He would make them feel everything MC felt in those two hours they had MC. He didn't care if it was against protocol. He only cared about revenge.

Ara - The capture was successful. The prisoners were on route to detainment. Everything was within the mission protocols. If suddenly the prisoners were to choke, clawing at their throats while their mouths started to foam? Well, they must have missed the cyanide pills in their mouths during inspection.

Theo - He hates them. He hates himself. The hatred bubbles and churns within him every time he sees his prisoners. He prays to the Old Gods to give him strength, to not go against his own beliefs just for a moment of relief. He would not be able to live with himself if he takes a human life. Yet... looking at them, he wonders if damnation would be worth it.

Will - Death would be too good for them. That is what Will decided. He played the part of the perfect soldier, capturing them and doing the transfer paperwork. No one suspected a thing; they never questioned why the kidnappers were always bruised and bloody after free time in prison. Or why their bones kept breaking. The guards turned a blind eye, and Will smiled.

Astrid - Her finger slips, that is what she tells herself. It was raining during the arrest. She was tired from the chase, and her finger slipped. The rest came quietly after that. Carefully moving over the dead body of their comrade, sending wary looks towards Astrid, who stands over the body. Eyes blank.

The saga is complete!

[scnsualforalphas]

Just like the frat president relished in the delight of not having to guide some amateur wannabe slut through the duties of being a bunny, Jasper was finding his own bliss in the pleasure of letting go, submiting without the worry of denying himself one bit of ecstatic arousal in the process. He absolutely loved giving himself over into the confident hands of a dominant top, but to his chagrin, he'd come across plenty of wannabe 'alphas' with more misguided cockiness than actual skills, and he was too much of a diva to just lay there and take mediocre dick without pushing back. But Blake was clearly in no need of any lessons from the blonde power bottom, who instead moaned in ecstatic bliss, groaning with a happy smile as he bounced on the stallion's monster cock, gladly letting the muscular top assist his bubbly ass slam harder on the thick length and making Jasper see stars.

He certainly hadn't expected this to work out as perfectly as it had thus far. When Blake and his fellow brothers talked him up at the gym and recruited him based on his salacious reputation, Jasper had been... excited at the idea of indulging this fantasy, of showing off his body and talents for the fraternity to see what a real bunny had to be like. But a part of him, maybe one born from cockiness or a parade of lovers in his past that had been satisfactory but never enough to keep his interest for longer, had been not fully convinced this deal would be truly fulfilling his needs. However, feeling Blake's hands and lips on his body in this moment, the thick Italian cock pulsing inside him, feeling every inch as his hole bounced up and down on the mighty pole, confirmed what Jasper had begun realizing earlier as he got fucked surrounded by all those gawking frat brothers. This place was just what he craved and needed. Being Blake's to own and share with his brothers was possibly finally enough to satisfy his thirst.

The blonde's eyes filled with even more of a lust and hunger as his nipples were played with, and his lips found Blake's with the hunger of a starving man as the other told him to lean in for a kiss. He moaned without shame as their lips connected, wanting the frat president to feel just how much he was into this right now - riding Blake's dick was not just a duty, he wasn't simply trying to do the best job he could as the frat bunny he now was. Jasper's own pleasure might not have been top priority on paper, but he was getting just as much out of this right now as the other. "Mhhh, thank you", he purred proudly, the praise from Blake feeling oddly satisfying even with all the confidence Jasper had in his own skills. He let out a deep moan, his own cock pulsing in the stallion's grip, his hole twitching and tightening around the enormous girth stretching it open. He had no doubt the other would make good on his word, making him cum so hard he'd pass out, and he wanted to return the favor. "Deep", was the first thing Jasper responded when asked how he wanted it, sliding almost all the way off of the other's cock before slamming down onto it again hard, gasping at his own motion. "Hard if you have the stamina for it", he teased with a wink, "because I do always love it intense, you know. But deep more than anything. I wanna sleep with that thick Italian load inside my guts and see if it's trickled out of my well-used pussy in the morning", he mused. Jasper was as much of a cumslut as he was a slut for big dicks, if not even more, and he knew he could get Blake to provide him with both.

"That's it, baby, just like that ..." Blake encouraged erotically, his hands now being allowed to fully explore the other's lithe, firm form. Blake moved his lips to Jasper's neck as the other focused on riding and bouncing on him, his hands took turns grabbing each globe of the drama diva's bountiful ass and helping it slam back down on him even harder each time it returned after lifting up. Their bodies moved in perfect synchrony and Blake absolutely relished in the fact that he wasn't having to explain to the other what to do and how to do it - like he'd had to do with all the bunnies that had come before him; he wasn't having to think, he could just fuck.

He let his hands explore more of the other's body, creating a little space between them in breaking his kisses to the other's neck so he could run his hands up along Jasper's waist, "Ride it, nice and slow, baby doll, yeah- yeah, mmm- fuck-" he moaned as the other adjusted so he could now reach up and play with Jasper's pecs, groping and teasing them at first before beginning to toy with his nipples, pinching them between his fingers and twisting them just ever so slightly, just enough to tingle, not enough to hurt. He stared longingly and mischievously up at the other's eyes, grinning and smirking as they both understood in that moment, without having to say it, that Jasper truly belonged to Blake now; he was his fuck toy to use and his bunny to share.

"Kiss," he softly commanded the other and let his eyes fall closed when their lips met again, one hand returning to thread through the other's hair and the other wrapped around the other's perfect form and traced down his back. Jasper was sweet and submissive in the way he kissed and Blake could also see himself never tiring of enjoying that. They would almost certainly be spending countless hours being intimate if this initial chemistry between them was anything to go by. "You've been such a good boy," he praised softly, "Good boys deserve rewards for being good," he continued, his lips curling in a sweet, devilish smile as his hand moved from behind Jasper's back and slowly moved around to his front, wrapping around his cock, "You're gonna cum first and I'm gonna make you cum so hard you're gonna pass out right here in my bed," he said slowly, grinning, letting the other now use his cock like his own personal dildo, "Tell me how you want it and I'll give it to you."

[drewsbuzzcut]

The First Fall Of Snow

Nico Hischier x Sienna

Warnings: none!

Takes place: Dec 2024

The whistle of the wind breaks through the comforting silence, rousing Sienna from her sleep. And although she’s warm from Nico’s embrace and the thick blanket over them, his fingers lazily gliding along her spine sends a chill zipping through her body. It’s a sleepy habit of his, and Sienna loves it because sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. It also shows just how much he needs to feel her against him, even in his sleep.

After blinking the remnants of sleep away, Sienna stares out the uncovered window. Snowflakes are falling softly and glistening under the dusty, grey sky. It’s the type of beauty that takes the girl’s breath away and plasters the happiest smile on her face.

She relishes in Nico’s hold for a few more minutes, but soon excitement extinguishes her residual sleepiness. She gets up to light a few candles, dancing around as she does. There’s just something she loves about lighting a few candles during a snowy day.

Turning back around to try and wake up her boyfriend, she finds him already awake and gazing lovingly at her. His biceps are flexed as they fold behind his head, enticing her to take a bite.

“Come back to bed,” he groans, his voice thick as honey but with extra rasp.

“Neeks,” she pouts, but runs back to bed, jumping on him.

“Can you believe this is our first snow together?” She questions as she traces the arch of his eyebrows.

Speaking of eyebrows, Nico’s furrow in confusion.

“First? Baby, we’ve known each other since we were little. We’ve literally had snowball fights before. Remember when we were in high school and you accidentally hit my face?” He murmurs with a small laugh.

“Of course I remember. You acted like a drama queen and wouldn’t stop pouting unless I cuddled you,” she teased with a sassy roll of her eyes, and poked at his dimple until he turned to kiss the tip of her finger.

“I mean our first, first snow. Whenever we’ve been together during a snow day, it was never the first day. This is the first time since we’ve known each other that we get to experience the first snow of the season together. It reminds me of how lucky I am. I finally get to be yours, wholly. We get to experience life together, and the best part is that we are totally and unabashedly in love with each other,” Sienna explains, her heart beating against her chest. A furious flush dusts her cheeks, reminding Nico of the jersey he’s fortunate to wear almost every day.

He finds himself pulling her into his bare chest, his hands finding home on the small of her back. He never even realized they never had that first. It may not seem like something important to most people, but Sienna is the person he wants every first to be had with. It places a deep, gut retching ache in him that some of those firsts weren’t with her to begin with. Unease pulls his smile into a frown and makes his eyes water with regret or guilt, or maybe both.

“I’m glad we get to have it now. I love you, Sienna,” he whispers, lips attaching to hers, inhaling her breath like it’s the last gulp of air left on earth.

“Maybe we can recreate that snowball fight,” Sienna muses against his lips, smirking when Nico lets out a groan.

“Only if we get to lie in bed for the rest of the day,” he proposes softly.

“Hmm… I guess, Mr. Hischier.” Sienna leaps out of bed, throwing on layers of clothing before bouncing over to the door before Nico can even get a long sleeve on.

He can’t be bothered, though. Not when the love of his life is so happy in this perfect, mundane moment.

a/n: A sweet, little moment between Sienna and Nico. Enjoy🫶

[cierraonline]

His Legacy, My Legacy

masterlist | next chapter

February 22, 2009

 The 81st Academy Awards  

The night of the 81st Academy Awards, or informally known as The Oscars, is more than just glitz and glamour. It’s a moment that reflects the years of hard work, passion, and dreams of writers, directors, actors, and actresses—all of which are graded in front of the entire world, broadcast live on television. The air is thick with anticipation as the crowd sits, waiting for their name or movie title to be called. They stand ready to walk onto that stage, dressed in wardrobes worth thousands—or even millions of dollars—but paid for by the power of their name. Then comes the moment they hold that heavy trophy in their hands, ready to give a speech, expressing their joy, gratitude, and how they couldn’t have done it without the people who supported them. They tell the audience at home to never give up on their dreams, a reminder of the belief and perseverance that got them there in the first place.

But for Starfire Ledger, the night of the 81st Academy Awards represented something far different. In her eyes, it was the last time her father, Heath Ledger's name, would ever be spoken. After that, his legacy, his work, would fade into memory, forgotten by the world. At just five years old, she felt the crushing weight of being truly alone, with no family left to call her own. Starfire had lost her mother at birth, only cradled in her arms for a fleeting ten seconds, and now her father was gone too—taken by his own hand, leaving her to watch him deteriorate in front of her, his descent tied to a single, unforgettable role. 

There was an opportunity for Starfire to find solace in the arms of those who loved her—her father’s girlfriend, Michelle Williams, and her little sister, Matilda. But that chance was blocked by her grandparents, who deemed Michelle unfit to be part of their precious grandchild's life. Yet, their rejection didn’t mean they wanted to take Starfire back to Australia with them. Instead, it was decided by the maternal force of the Ledger family that Starfire would remain in America with her father’s manager, Brian O'Conner. This decision devastated the young girl, who longed to stay with the only maternal figure she had ever known, even if their time together had been all too brief.

“In a year of striking film images, perhaps the most unforgettable was that of a man with his face smeared in clown makeup, lethally sticking his head out of a speeding car, relishing the night wind and reveling in the chaos he had unleashed on the streets of Gotham City—menacing, mercurial, droll, and diabolical. Heath Ledger, as the Joker in The Dark Knight, kept us all on edge, anxious to see what act of appalling mischief he might commit next. With this preview of performance, as well as with a wide range of other roles to which he put his unique signature, Heath Ledger has left us an original and enduring legacy.” The audience clap their hands in sorrow, but the five year old could feel the piercing of the eyes that automatically turned to her. 

“And the Oscar goes to… Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight,” the room erupts into cheers. “Accepting this award on behalf of Heath Ledger are his father Kim Ledger, his mother Sally Bell, his sister Kate Ledger, and his daughter Starfire Ledger.” The family stands, holding hands, as they revel in their lost one’s victory.

“First of all, I have to say this is ever so humbling, just being amongst such wonderful people in such a wonderful industry,” the patriarch of the family speaks into the microphone, his voice steady as Kate gently hands Starfire the trophy. “As his father, I know him well, but there is one person in this room who knows Heath more than I did and should be giving this speech on his behalf... His daughter.” The older man steps aside, softly guiding his white-haired, tinted brown-skinned granddaughter to the podium.

“H-hi,” Starfire speaks into the microphone, testing the energy before she continues. Some in the crowd glance at each other, unsure of what to expect from a five-year-old speaking. “I’m Starfire Ledger, daughter of Heath Ledger. And I promise I speak well for a five-year-old… and that my hair is naturally this paper-white color.” The crowd laughs, and the tension in the girl begins to loosen. 

“I don’t really have anything to say, but more so a request… A request to not forget who my dad was… and his dedication to film. I’m still here, and I would like to know that in the future my dad’s name will still be present when the discussion is about method acting or even who played the best Joker. I read in ‘Vogue’ that people tend to forget or talk less about a passed one because life moves on. Don’t let his legacy be a thing of the past, because I would like to remember the person that made me one of the greatest when I’m sitting in where you’re at, waiting for my name to be called. Thank you.” 

The five-year-old steps back from the microphone as every person in the audience stands up to applaud, not just for her words, but for her bravery in speaking them.

After the Awards

Starfire fought to stay awake, her body yearning for sleep, but she held tightly onto her grandmother’s hand as the family stood together, receiving the congratulations and sorrowful words of others. It felt almost like a return to the previous year when they stood by her father’s tombstone, Starfire gripping the vase containing his ashes, waiting for her grandparents to say the words that signaled it was time to go home. Home, meaning her father’s house, and her father, who was no longer there.

“Mr. Ledger,” a loose British accent, broke through the murmurs around them. Starfire glanced over to see a man standing before her family’s patriarch. “I’m Christopher Nolan, one of the producers of The Dark Knight,” he said, offering his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” her father replied with a faint smile. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Well, it could be,” Nolan continued, looking directly at Starfire, who was watching them closely, her ears struggling to catch the conversation over the noise of the award show. “During the filming of The Dark Knight, Heath and I were also working on a spin-off... We were both looking for a main lead but didn’t find one before his passing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Nolan,” Sally Bell added, her expression one of quiet sorrow, knowing her son’s work was likely lost to the world after the project was scrapped.

“Will Heath’s last piece of work be scrapped?” Kim, Starfire’s grandfather, asked.

“N-no,” Nolan hesitated. “He finished his main scenes. Anything else that is needed can be covered by a stunt double.” He shook his head. 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” the family sighed in unison, their unspoken gratitude palpable.

“As this might be Heath’s final project, I want to make it memorable,” Nolan said, his voice softening. “With the help of Ms. Starfire…”

“Starfire!?” The adults stared in shock, their eyes widening at Nolan’s words.

Starfire looked up at the man, confused. Mr. Nolan took a small step away from the patriarch and knelt down in front of the young girl.

“Starfire,” he said gently. “How would you like to be a part of the last piece of your father’s legacy?”

The young girl hesitated, glancing over at her grandparents. They looked hesitant too but could see the opportunity that might fill the emptiness Starfire had carried since her father's death—or at least give her a distraction from her grief.

“It’s up to you, Storm,” her grandfather nodded.

“We want you to do whatever will make you happy, Snowy,” her grandmother added, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

“What’s the movie called?” Starfire finally asked, looking back at Nolan.

“Joker’s Menace,” Nolan revealed. “It’s about Joker’s daughter carrying on her father’s explosive legacy.”

“I’ll do it,” Starfire said with determination. “But I want to keep my hair… and I want to wear all-white eye contacts.”

Christopher Nolan grinned, clearly impressed by her decisiveness. “I’ll send Brian the script tomorrow morning then.” He held out his hand, and the young girl eagerly shook it.

“You’re going to be a movie star, Snowy,” Kate, Starfire’s aunt, said with pride, bending down to her niece’s level. “And mark my words—you’ll be back on this stage one day, accepting your very own Oscar.”

“Really?” Starfire asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Yeah! We’re going dress shopping for your customized ball gown!” Kate spun Starfire around, causing her to burst into laughter.

Although they were joking, little did they know, Kate’s prediction would come true two years later. Joker’s Menace, the story about the passing of the Joker and the hidden legacy of his daughter, Menace White, took the world by storm. Menace, a white-haired girl with blank white eyes and a brilliant, scheming mind, sought to avenge her father’s death by targeting the rich who had mocked him—and all under the nose of Bruce Wayne, aka Batman.

Joker’s Menace

The Legacy of Chaos Continues 

Starring Starfire Ledger and Christian Bale

The summer of 2009 saw the release of Joker’s Menace, a cinematic masterpiece that transported audiences back to the emotional depths of The Dark Knight—only amplified tenfold. From the moment the first trailer was unveiled, showcasing Starfire Ledger as Menace White, the excitement was electric. Her raw, organic portrayal of the character, paired with the haunting legacy of her father, Heath Ledger, captivated the world.  

The film drew record-breaking crowds, with lines wrapping around theaters and a palpable energy that hadn’t been seen before. Fans agreed—Joker’s Menace was more than just a film. It was a heartfelt farewell to Heath Ledger and a dazzling introduction to Starfire Ledger as a rising star. 

"It's official: Joker's Menace is the blockbuster of the summer, surpassing The Dark Knight in both ratings and revenue! Get ready—Menace White is here and ready to avenge the Joker." – Fox News  

"People can’t stop talking about Joker’s Menace! The excitement is unreal, with lines stretching around the block. This film is the talk of the town, and it's no surprise that it’s already breaking records!" – E! Entertainment  

"Move over, The Dark Knight! Joker’s Menace has taken over the summer box office, shattering records and leaving audiences breathless!" – MSNBC  

"The buzz around Joker's Menace is at an all-time high. Fans are rushing to theaters, eager to witness the villainous chaos. It’s more than just a film—it’s an event!" – MTV  

"With ratings soaring past The Dark Knight, Joker’s Menace has redefined what it means to be a summer blockbuster. This film isn’t just successful—it’s history in the making!" – Sky News  

February 27, 2011

 The 83rd Academy Awards  

“Ladies and gentlemen, here is the last award for tonight,” Angelina Jolie announced, her voice cutting through the anticipation in the Dolby Theatre.  

“And the Oscar for Best Actress goes to…” Anne Hathaway leaned into the microphone, her smile wide as she glanced at the name. “Starfire Ledger, in Joker’s Menace!”  

The room erupted into a standing ovation. Seven-year-old Starfire Ledger, clad in a shimmering silver ball gown with a delicate bow at the back, looked utterly stunned. For the youngest nominee in history, even being mentioned alongside the industry’s best felt like a dream. Winning was beyond imagination.  

“You did it, Kiddo,” her manager, Brian, whispered as he helped her out of the aisle. The audience watched in awe as Starfire ascended the stage, her white hair glowing under the lights. She hugged Angelina Jolie and Anne Hathaway before stepping up to the podium, her Oscar in hand.  

“Hi,” she began, flashing a beaming smile. “I feel like I’ve been on this stage all night.” The audience laughed warmly, knowing Joker’s Menace had already swept five awards, all of which Christopher Nolan had allowed Starfire to accept on behalf of the team.  

“I want to thank everyone—everyone here and at home—for watching and making history with this film. It became the highest-earning movie of the decade, and I’m so proud to have been part of that journey,” Starfire said.  

“I want to thank Brian for stepping up as a father figure in my life, treating me like one of your own, and making sure I didn’t get lost in the darkness of the role or my grief,” she said, turning to her manager, tears glistening in her eyes.  

“And thank you, Christopher Nolan, for giving me this incredible opportunity. You reminded me that carrying on my father’s legacy also means building my own, in my own way. This award isn’t just for me—it’s for my dad. Thank you.”  

As the audience cheered and applauded, Starfire walked off the stage, her smile wide and her heart full, unknowingly beginning a legacy all her own.

I hope you guys like!!!

[hanatoumahi]

Nine Hundred Ninety-Nine Paper Cranes

Synopsis: Movie watching was a tradition that you and Jushiro have every Saturday. It was your turn that week, and your pick was The Notebook. “Will you be a bird with me?” Warning: Fluff, Angst, Modern AU, Spoilers for The Notebook, Ukitake is not terminally ill until later in his life, Established Relationship (Married), Death A/N: I watched The Notebook before writing this fic (it's been, like, two weeks since I've started). I'm sorry if it feels a little weird in some parts, December was a busy month for me and I kind of rushed this. This wasn't for Ukitake Week '24 originally, but I'll post it anyway since it does fit the theme (Day 7: Birthday)

WC: 6.5k (roughly, give or take a few)

August

“Say that I’m a bird!” Allie squealed, excitedly flapping her arms up and down. You had convinced Jushiro to watch The Notebook with you, a movie that he had avoided after hearing the “horror stories” about it. It was a warm Saturday night in August. You and Jushiro had a tradition of watching movies together; it was your turn tonight.You watch as Noah profusely says no until finally giving in,

“You are a bird.”

“Now say that you’re a bird, too.”

“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird,” he smiled before Allie pulled him close, kissing him with all the love in the world. You peek up at Jushiro who had his eyes laser-focused on the endearing scene before him. His arms were wrapped around your body, your back pressed against his chest and your head resting on the crook of his neck. You turn around, facing him with a cheeky grin on your face. He raises his brow, “What is it, love?”

Your grin grew wider, the corners of your lips reaching your eyes. Wriggling out of his arms, you face him, “Say that I’m a bird, Jushiro.”

Amused, he thoughtfully puts a finger on his chin, contemplating if he should play along, “What if I say no?”

“Say it!”

“No.” You gave him a look, earning you a chuckle from your lover, “You’re a bird,” he relents.

“Will you be a bird with me?”

“Of course, my love, why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes and lean your forehead closer, relishing the comforting feeling. Satisfied, you wrapped his arms and continued to watch

By the time The Notebook end, both you and Jushiro were in tears. Him more than you, however.

“Never again! That was too sad, even for me!” Jushiro exclaimed, wiping his bleary eyes with his sleeves. You giggled, this wasn’t the first time you had watched The Notebook, but it was Jushiro’s so you came prepared with tissues. Unraveling yourself from the tangle of limbs you two were in, you sat on his lap facing him. Gently grasping his chin, you told him to close his eyes. They flutter shut as you softly padded the tissue over his damp face, you admired him quietly. His long white hair had been tied back in a low ponytail, and his bangs stuck on his face because of his tears but he looked beautiful all the same. “I’m done,” you say, throwing the crumpled tissue on the coffee table. He opens his eyes, looking up at you through his long lashes, “Thank you.”

You look at him for a moment, admiring him for a little longer before whispering, “I hope that we can grow old together like that, too,” as you cradle his face in your palms. The warmth of your hands against his cold face made him melt into your touch. He buried his face into your hand. Kissing your palm, he replied:

“I as well, my love.”

You stared at each other, smiling stupidly. He twitched, an indicator that a fit was about to occur. Jushiro readied his elbow; violent, dry coughing soon followed, shaking your husband’s body. Climbing out of his lap, you walk into the kitchen to fetch him a glass. Casting a concerned glance his way, you brush his white hair out of his face and give him the water. At first, you both thought that it was just a cough, but now it had been weeks and the cough only turn nastier. He call off from work for a few weeks, and yet, he still wasn’t getting any better, “We should get this checked out.”

“Mmm, I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s just a cough, I’ll be better soon,” he smiled reassuringly, sipping his water before reaching over to set it down on the table.

“Still, I’m worried.”

“If it sets your mind at ease, we can schedule an appointment tomorrow.”

Satisfied with his answer, you bury yourself under his arms once more. Just as you reach for the remote, Jushiro’s hand snatches it away from your grasp.

“Hey!”

“This time I’m choosing!”

That following Sunday, you had driven him to his doctor’s office, not trusting the state your husband was in to drive. You remember that day clearly. It was sunny, but not too hot. The birds chirp and tweet in delight–there was a sweetness to the air. The kind that, when you take a deep breath and exhale, leaves you a giddy feeling knowing that summer is here.

“You fret too much, love. I can drive just fine,” Jushiro said as you two walked into the clinic.

You looked at him incredulously, “With how you’re coughing, you’re lucky I haven’t wrapped you in bubble wrap!”

He shook his head while smiling, “You worry too much.”

November

That was August. It was November now, and months had gone by without incident. The doctors weren’t able to decisively diagnose him, they noted that it was most likely some fibrosis-related issue. However, since Jushiro seemed fine, aside from the coughing, they couldn’t do much besides prescribe some antibiotics and puff medicine. At the very least, the medicine was working effectively, so life moved on as usual.

“Oh, look! It’s snowing outside!”

“Wow, the snow’s come early this year. Do you think I could go outside?”

“I don’t know, Jushiro. You might catch a cold,” you reply, biting your lip. You knew he dearly loved the snow, and depriving him of it made you feel bad.

“I think I can weather a cold just fine,” he jokes.

“Oka–Hey!” you yelp, a snowball narrowly missing your cheek.

“Sorry!” he laughed, readying another snowball before aiming.

“That’s not fair! You had a headstart!” you scream, dashing behind the car for protection. You crouch and start packing snow into a tight ball, you peer around the corner to get a better view. But to your surprise, he wasn’t where you thought he was. Confused, you stand up and carefully round the corner slowly. Hoping to keep your element of surprise.

A loud cough cracks through the quiet air like a whip, causing you to snap your head up.

“Jushiro!” spotting him kneeling in the snow, “Let’s get you inside.” You shoulder his weight, he leans onto your smaller frame for support causing you to stagger. His thin arms dug into the side of your ribs, causing you to cringe in pain.

“S-sorry,” he wheezes, stabilizing his footing as the two of you trudge through the snow.

“We need to get you out of those clothes now.”

Hurrying into your house, you lead Jushiro into your living room, “Stay here, I’ll get you new clothing,” you yell, dashing out of the room. Throwing your closet doors open, you grab an armful of thick sweaters and a change of pants.

“No more snow for you, Mister,” you jest, attempting to lighten the mood. Lifting the hem of his sweater, you wipe his back with a hand towel.

“Oh,” he rasps, “I’ll be fine, love—A little snow can’t hurt.”

“Lay with me?”

Without saying a word, you crawl into bed and curl up next to him.

A loud, crackling cough startled you awake the following morning. You sit up and whip your head towards Jushiro, who lay beside you. His complexion was paler, and beads of sweat ran down his cheek.

“I don’t… feel too good…” Jushiro croak weakly, his voice gravelly and low. Your stomach dropp, Did he have a fever? Putting the back of your hand against his temple, He was burning. jumping out of b you grabb the thermometer in your nightstand’s drawer. You brush his bangs to the side and hover the thermometer gun over his forehead.

Beep. Beep.

You stare at the screen, waiting for the results to load.

… It read 40° C.

Fuck.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” sitting Jushiro up. His back was drenched with sweat, leaving a large, dark stain on the b.

You help him into another change of clothes, careful to layer him.

Locking the front door, you shuffle Jushiro to your car.

“Pneumonia.”

You watch as the assistant nurse clicks-clack away at the doctor’s diagnosis.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Ukitake. He’ll need to stay in the hospital so we can monitor his condition. He’ll be transferred to one of our private rooms as soon as possible.”

Though you nod, you can feel your heart break a little. You didn’t want to be away from him no matter what.

“Should his condition worsen,” the doctor began slowly, “He’ll need assisted breathing, that is one of your options if you want it.”

Jushiro squeezes your hand, you were met with his smile when you turn to him, “Thank you, I’ll talk to my wife about it.”

”I’ll leave you two to talk then,” the doctor replies, making eye contact with the nurse as he nods to the door. She reciprocates his nod and finishes up the last of her documentation.

You turn to Jushiro as soon as the two leave, your hands becoming clammy with anxiety at the thought of him alone in a hospital room, “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll manage, darling. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll be out soon.”

“I’ll visit as often as I can, okay?”

Squeezing your hand once more, he replies, “I’ll look forward to them.”

Ding!

The elevator door slides open. You make your way down the hall, holding a box of ohagi in one hand and a bag of clothes in the other. It was the following day, and you had requested time off work to spend the first few nights at the hospital with Jushiro. You had wanted to stay last night, but it was too late to call in.

Knock, knock.

“Come in!” you hear a familiar voice call out beyond the door.

Pushing down the handle with your elbow, you enter Jushiro’s room. It was quaint, his bed was off to the left and parallel to the large windows that overlook the garden. Various monitors and medical equipment were mounted at one side and on the other were two comfortable-looking blue chairs. Apart from the stained wood wall behind Jushiro’s bed that matched the floors, the walls were painted white. A T.V. was mounted on the far corner of the wall.

He was looking out the window when you entered. You follow his gaze, and you find that he’s staring at a bird’s nest. Shifting his position in bed, he turns his head to you, “Hi, darling.”

“Hey! Bird watching?”

He blushes, a little embarrassed he had been caught, “Yeah, I think there’s a family up there.”

Setting your things down, you walk up to the window, “Oh, yeah. I think there is a family up there.”“What kind of birds do you think they are?” “I don’t know, I can’t see well enough,” you squint, tiptoeing to get a better view. “They reminded me of The Notebook.” Turning around, you smile at him, “Because of the birds?” “Because of the birds,” he nods. “You know, it’s Saturday and it’s my turn to pick…” you trail off, a Cheshire-like grin gracing your features.

“No, not again!” he cried.

You made it a point to visit Jushiro every Saturday to uphold your traditions.

Shunsui was, of course, the first to visit aside from you. The first time he visited, he barrelled into the room while Jushiro was asleep and startled him awake. He frequented Jushiro’s room, barreling in with an armful of snacks, and was often accompanied by his other colleagues. Today was no different, he came barging in with yours and Jushiro’s favorite chips. Which earns a glare from you, nodding towards your sleeping husband. He flashes an apologetic smile, mouthing, “Rukia’s here too.”

As if on cue, she steps into the room, “Hi, Y/N-san, I hope we aren’t intruding.”

“Nonsense, Rukia, you two aren’t a bother at all,” you

“Hm? What were you two watching?” asks Rukia, peering over your shoulder.

“Oh, we were watching The Notebook,” you reply, casting a glance at your laptop's screen. It was paused on the boat scene where Noah was rowing Allie through the lake, “Well, I am. He doesn’t like it all that much because of its ending.”

Shunsui put a hand to his chin, deep in thought. He stares intently at the birds on your screen, and you raise a brow, but before you can ask what was the matter, he suddenly exclaims, a lightbulb in his head shining brightly: “Senbazuru!”

“Bless you.”

“No, senbazuru!”

Blinking owlishly, you look at Rukia who, much to your dismay, also mirrors your confusion, “What?”

“You know, fold 1,000 paper cranes?” he continues as if he were stating the obvious.

Perplex, you question him again, “Paper cranes? Why?”

“You don’t know what senbazuru is? It’s this old legend that, if you fold 1,000 paper cranes, your wish will be granted! But you only have one, so be careful what you wish for,” he clarifies, giving you his signature smile.

Finally understanding what he was hinting at, you look at Jushiro who was sleeping, “Yeah, maybe…” you trail off.

“I’ll bring origami paper next time I visit then,” Shunsui said brightly. Smiling at his antics, you look at Jushiro once more, your smile fading slightly. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by your husband’s assistant.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Y/N-san,” Rukia smiles kindly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah! He’s much stronger than you think–trust me, I know,” Shunsui chimes in, flexing his muscles, causing you to laugh. But you knew better.

“I’d appreciate it, thank you.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow with the paper, okay? I just swung by to check up on you two,” Shunsui nodding towards the door. He carefully placed the snacks at the foot of Jushiro’s bed and gestured for Rukia to go first.

“See you soon, Y/N-san!” Rukia waves, beaming brightly.

“See you, you two!”

Jushiro stirs in his sleep before slowly opening his eyes, “Mm… Was Shunsui here?” he asks.

“Ah, yeah he was; he came here to drop by some snacks but didn’t want to wake you, so he left.”

“Shame, I would’ve loved to go talk to him,” he smiles sadly as he props himself up. You’ve noticed that he’s become more tired as of late, which causes your heart to ache.

“He said we should make paper cranes,” you blurt out.

“Paper cranes? What for?”

Biting your lip, you were sure you sounded stupid for what you were about to say, “To make a wish come true.”

What you were referencing dawn on Jushiro. He chuckles–He would’ve asked what you would’ve wished for but he knew the answer.

“Do you know how to fold a crane?”

“No…” you reply sheepishly.

“Come here, I’ll teach you,” Jushiro says, beckoning you to come closer.

“We don’t have paper, though. Shunsui said he’d bring some origami paper tomorrow,” you grimace, not wanting to leave him alone to ask a nurse for paper.

“That’s alright, we’ll…” he trails off, looking for something–anything remotely foldable, “Aha! This’ll do,” Jushiro exclaims as he picks up a candy wrapper. Smoothing out the crinkled plastic, he carefully walks you through each step of making a crane.

“I know it’s a little hard to see, but bear with me a little,” he chuckles, folding the wrapper corner to corner. You lean over his bed, crossing your arms to lay your head in them. You watch intently as he skillfully folds the paper into a crane.

“Ta-da!” cheering as he displays the small papercraft in his palms. Taking the crane from his hand, you marvel at his dexterity to be able to create something so small.

“There, now we have crane number one!” he said triumphantly.

“Knock-knock!” came a muffled, yet familiar, voice.

“Come in!”

Shunsui, in his usual splendor, struts in with a large paper bag with what you assume to be the origami paper. His eyes lit up when he saw his best friend “Jushiro! You’re awake!” he pauses and look at the two of you, a boyish smile resting on his features. You sat on the edge of Jushiro’s bed, braiding his long white hair, “Am I interrupting?”

“You aren’t, don’t worry,” Jushiro laughs weakly, “She’s helping me with my hair since it keeps getting caught in the wires.”

“What’s in there?” you ask, nodding towards the bag, wondering what its contents could be. Surely a stack of colorful paper didn’t warrant a bag of that size.

“I’m glad you asked,” Shunsui grins mischievously as he reaches in and grabs a large, white box, “Voila!”

You gasp as he pulls out a home projector, “Shunsui, you shouldn’t have!”“I figured that watching on your laptop was a little cramped–don’t worry! It wasn’t just from me, everyone pitched in a little, too.” “Tell everyone that they have my thanks, this is very kind of you all,” Jushiro smiles sweetly as Shunsui places the box in his lap.

“And, of course, here’s the origami paper!” he exclaims, plopping a stack of brightly patterned paper still in its plastic onto your husband’s lap.

You took the box from his lap, running your nail through the tape. You study the projector, eyeing its buttons

“It works!”

“Woo!”

“What should we watch?”

The sun slowly eases down the horizon, and bright gradients of blues and pinks fill the sky. Jushiro had fallen asleep hours ago, leaving you and Shunsui to fold the paper cranes in his stead. Shunsui looks out the window and down at his phone’s clock.

“I should go soon.”

“How many cranes did we make today?”

“Counting today…” you point at each crane, quietly iterating each number under his breath, “We made 28 today!”“28 down, 972 more to go!”

Shunsui pauses before exiting the door, he turns and glances at Jushiro one last time before turning to you. He smiles, the kind of smile that telepathically tells the receiver, “It’ll be alright, don’t worry.” You try to muster the strength to return it, but when you do, it isn’t the kind that is comforting, no. It was a defeated type of smile. You saw his eyes soften, was it pity? Comfort? You didn’t know. He motioned for you to follow him, and you shook your head, nodding towards Jushiro.

“It’ll be quick,” he mouths. Biting your lip, you quietly trail after Shunsui. Looking back at your husband, you let out a small sigh and shut the door gently.

Shunsui leans against the wall opposite to the door, “How’ve you been, Y/N?” he asks almost immediately.

“Good–I’ve been… good, you?”

He raises a brow but thankfully doesn’t probe you further, “Same old, same old. Busy as always.”

You hum, staring at your shoes.

“Everyone misses him.”“Mm…”

“How bad has he gotten?”

You let that question hang in the air for a little while, the silence becoming suffocating. You hadn’t verbalized your troubles to anyone, so it felt foreign to you to be so forward with how you felt about it all, “He’s…” you suck in a cold, sharp breath, “He’s been… better.”

“As in?”

“The… doctors tell me he doesn’t have much time left until his condition worsens,” you start slowly, feeling the tears well up, “Maybe, like, a year left? Something like that. And that’s if we’re lucky,” you hiss bitterly.

Suddenly, you felt warmth engulf you, a large hand rubbing your back gently. Knowing the hospital has thin walls, you sob quietly into Shunsui’s chest. You shook violently as he held you steady, letting you soak his shirt with your tears.

“I’m s-sorry,” you hiccup, your hands rubbing your puffy eyes furiously. You realize how stupid you must look to passersby, wailing in the middle of the hallway like that.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. There’s no need to apologize,” he says as he rubs circles on your back, “It’s not anyone’s fault.” He gingerly separates himself from you, patting you gently on the shoulder, “Let’s get you a drink, yeah?”

You trail after him, each footstep that you take feeling heavier than the last. He leads you to a vending machine, asking you what you would like and that it would be on him.

“Water’s fine.”

He punches in the numbers and slides a wrinkly bill into the slot–cursing when the machine refuses to accept it. Eventually, it does and the bottle tumbles down and he reaches into the door to grab it. Giving you the bottle, Shunsui sits next to you. You thank him and sip the water slowly.

“Do you think he’ll get better?” you murmur. Shunsui didn’t look at you for a while, wondering if you meant to say that out loud or not before finally settling on, “I… don’t know.”

A thick, uncomfortable silence settles on your shoulders. You felt small sitting on that bench as you sip quietly on your juice, like a kid who was just sent to the principal’s office and was now waiting for their name to be called.

He turns to you once more, “I should go, I shouldn’t leave Rukia alone for too long.”

“Take care, Y/N.”

“You as well, Shunsui.”

He walks you back to Jushiro’s room, patting your back one last time before he turns to leave. You watch his figure turn the corner, disappearing from your sight. Unlocking the door slowly, you enter the room.

Snow was always a sight that you and Jushiro looked forward to. The stiff winter wind knocks on the hospital's windows as if they were asking the two of you to come out and play. It pains you to look at the snow; it bore as a reminder of when the two of you sought refuge in the thick, warm duvet of your shared bed. Now, there was a different kind of cold that you had not gotten us to.

It reminded you that you were the reason that he was in the hospital.

“I hope the blizzard dies down soon. My joints ache too much in the cold and it’s hard to walk,” Jushiro sighs. You hum in agreement, as much as you both love the snow, the cold was becoming unbearable even with heating. The icy weather seeped through the window cracks, sending chills every once in a while if the wind blew hard enough.

“Yeah, I do, too. It’s hard to drive in this weather.”

“You know, you don’t have to visit me so often, I don’t mind,” you gaped at him, which he quickly waved his hands around and followed up with, “Of course, I love your company but I don’t want me to start affecting your work life!”

“Of course not! You are so much more important than my job Jushiro!”

“I know but,” he looks down, “You’re tired, and you do so much for me already. And I don’t want you to get even more tired.”

“Jushiro, you are the light and love of my life, there is nothing more that I want than to be with you always,” you say, pressing your forehead against his. You could feel his body relax under your touch, making you feel warm inside, “It’s your turn this week, what movie do you want to watch?”

Like the snow that swirled furiously outside, Jushiro’s health took a nosedive in mid-November. He was moved from the Medicine Unit to the Intensive Care Unit as a result. New tubes and wires were hooked onto him; his lungs had begun to deteriorate at a faster rate than you nor the doctors anticipated so he was given an oxygen tank for assisted breathing.

It broke your heart to see Jushiro so frail. Some days he would be wide awake, watching the movies you put on intently and laughing with Shunsui while folding cranes. Other days he was quiet, moving sluggishly, if at all. There were times when you sat in his room for hours just watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful then. His coughing only worsened as well, his once dry hacking turned into a croaking, wet cough that wracked his whole body.

“Y/N.”

Startled you put a hand on your heart, “Ah! You’re awake!” He had slept most of the day away, only waking up when the nurse brought in his lunch. It was evening now, and you, much to your dismay, couldn’t stay the night so you were gathering your things.

“D-do you remember when we first met?” he asks hoarsely.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I? Shunsui wouldn’t leave us alone until we went on a date!” you chuckle fondly, vividly remembering a young Shunsui hounding you and Jushiro until you two became official.

“You were so beautiful, and you’ve only grown more radiant since then,” he chuckles dryly.

You groan, “Absolutely not! I looked so bad!”

The two of you were sophomores in college when you had met, at a party hosted by Shunsui no less. By some miracle, you had befriended Shunsui–a dynamic that you still find funny because you still aren’t exactly sure how the two of you became friends. Jushiro, who still had short hair back then, was introduced to you that night by him. You remember thinking he was so handsome and feeling embarrassed because your hair had refused to cooperate before you came to the party, leaving one side with more volume than the other. Shunsui roared with laughter when you struggled to introduce yourself (you elbowed him later for that).

And then?

Then, the rest was history.

“It’s been so long.”

“It has…”

“Why do you ask?”

“I had a dream of when we were young again. It felt like time had gone backward and I was there again,” he spoke softly, reaching his hand out to the ceiling as if the dream was tangible. But a memory, at the end of the day, is just a memory. You grasp his hand, lacing your fingers between his. He looks at you adoringly, “In sickness and in health, until death do us part,” he breathes quietly.

Your eyes widen. It pains you to hear those words from him again. Squeezing his hands tightly, you reply:

“Until death do us part.”

December

Each time that Shunsui visited, he always brought something. Whether it was snacks, a new CD to watch on the projector, or a bagful of paper cranes from everyone at the workplace, his arms were never empty.

Today, though, he visited empty-handed. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“I would’ve come sooner, but traffic was giving me hell!”

Giggling, you reply, “It’s okay, Shunsui. No gifts today?”

He dramatically sits on the chair next to you, “No, not today. I had no time, plus! It’s his birthday soon!”

You look over to Jushiro who was sleeping soundly, “What’re you going to get Jushiro for his birthday?”

Shunsui reclined in his chair and folded his arms, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling, “I’m not sure yet. When you’ve been friends for so long, you kind of just forget about the gifts and celebrate together.”

You nodded, "I get that, yeah."

"I'm sure I'll think of something, though," his gaze shifting to the movie in front of him. It was Jushiro's turn this week, he had chosen to watch Kimba: The White Lion, a favorite of his. However, no more than half an hour into the movie he was out cold. It was like this often; him falling asleep mid-movie, meaning that paper crane-making was left to you and Shunsui. Nevertheless, your movie-watching tradition held strong. Even if he was asleep for most of it.

The movie ends soon, and Shunsui rises from his seat, "Same time next week?" "Of course, where else would I be?" you mused. He grinned, tipping his hat and out the door he went, turning the knob and letting go when the door shut to not make noise.

“Oh, look, the snow’s calmed down some.”

He was right, the snow had slowed to a near stop. Beyond the glass and its frosty vignette, the courtyard looks like a winter wonderland.

Knock, knock.

“Come in!”

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Ukitake, I’m just here to check in,” the nurse bow before entering the room.

The nurse studies Ukitake’s vitals, jotting down notes about his health that you couldn’t see.

“Excuse me, do you think I could go out in the snow?” Jushiro ask while turning over his arm so that she could check his IV.

She smiles apologetically, “No, I’m sorry. We don’t allow patients to go outside for safety reasons.”

“Ah, not even if it’s my birthday?”

The nurse chuckles, “No, I’m sorry. Not even for your birthday,” she replies, finishing up the rest of her routine check-up. Putting her clipboard aside, she clicks her pen closed, “Have a good day!”

“Thank you!”

You could tell Jushiro was saddened that he couldn’t go outside, and that’s when an idea hit you.

“I have an idea,” you tell him as you take a plate from the stack.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back!”

He looks at you, perplexed at what you were planning. Marching out of the room and down the hallway, paper plate in hand, you press the elevator button. You wait a couple of seconds before it dings and it opens.

You shivered as you stepped into the courtyard, the biting wind lashing at your face. Crouching down, you scoop up handfuls of snow onto the plate.

“You brought back snow for me?” he laughed, taking the plate from your hand and putting it on his lap.

“Surprise…!”

He smiles and looks at his lap. Jushiro carefully sits up and pokes the soft snow, tracing shapes and circles on it. You lean down, folding your arms and resting your head on them. You watched him quietly as he drew a smiley face in the snow. You giggled; he’s so beautiful.

The longer you stared, the more your brows furrowed. White. The walls, his complexion, the world outside, the snow. It was all white. The longer you stared at him, the more your eyes unfocused until his figure became blurry. white gown he donned and his pale features did little to aid his camouflage. He blends into the snow seamlessly. As if he wasn’t there anymore like the wind had carried him away—as if, he too, was just another one of the snowflakes whisked away by the biting gales of winter.

This pungent, vile feeling of pure, unadulterated hate fester in you. It filled your heart to the brim with guilt knowing that if only you had insisted more, maybe he would’ve gotten a diagnosis faster and that he could’ve had a better chance to live longer. Jushiro reassures you that you were not to blame, that it was his stubbornness that prevented him from getting help, but it did not aid the anxiety that weighed on your shoulders. You hate that Jushiro was ill and that there wasn’t a cure, but most of all, you hate that you were at his illness’ mercy.

“Love? Why’re you crying?”

Your head snaps to Jushiro, his cold hand wiping tears from your cheeks.

“Ah! I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was—” You shied away from him, furiously wiping away your tears with your sleeve. You could feel his stare, and you could practically imagine his face. That look of utter heartbreak.

“Y/N, hey, look at me,” Jushiro says softly, gently cradling your face in his hands. You cast your gaze aside, unable to look him in the eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just…”

“Scared?”

“Yeah, just a little.”Jushiro goes quiet for a little while, unsure of what to say. Finally, his hands let go of your face, and instead, leading your hands to the plate full of snow that had already begun to melt, “Do you see this?”

Curious, you straighten your back a little to see what he has done. On the plate, he drew a stick figure drawing, of what you could only assume to be you two, encapsulated within a heart with v-shaped birds dotting the surrounding area in the snow.

“Remember when I asked you if you would be a bird with me?” you hum, indicating that you remembered, “In our next life, Y/N, I think we should be swans. I hope that we’re swans. Will you be a swan with me in our next life?”

“I will be whatever you want, so long as I’m by your side,” you reply shakily, wiping stray tears, “But why swans?”

“Well, they’re a symbol of love, aren’t they?” he says, nodding to the little birds he drew, “We’ll find each other in our next lives as swans, I’m sure.”

“We should’ve made paper swans instead of cranes then!” you reply cheekily, feeling a little better.

Jushiro beamed, “We should’ve,” His features painfully contort, a vicious cough wracking his body. Rising from your seat, you swiftly reach for the glass of water on his stand and sit on the edge of his bed, handing it to him. Jushiro thanked you for the water and chugged it down like a man dying of thirst.

You rub his back while he sits still, “You should rest so you’ll have energy for the party.”

“Mmm.”

Taking the plate from his lap and putting it on the table, you grab the remote to recline his bed and kiss him softly.

“Here’s to another!” booms Shunsui. Your friends and family were packed into his small hospital room.

“Happy birthday, darling,” you coo, gently kissing his cheek. Even after years of marriage, his face flushed pink, which everyone found endearing. Shunsui, especially, laughed heartily next to him.

“Here comes the cake!” Rukia excitedly took the chocolate dessert from its box. It was beautifully decorated with the right cake-to-frosting ratio. “Yachiru helped us bake it!”

“Hehe!” Yachiru giggled, proudly folding her arms.

“3… 2… 1…” you counted down. Together you blew the cake; a chorus of claps and “Woos!” resounded in the small room.

“Happy Birthday!” everyone cheered in unison.

“Thank you for coming everyone!” you wave as the last of your friends and family leave the room, closing the door gently.

“Eventful day, huh?”

“Yeah, it was nice seeing everyone again though.”

“Darling, if it’s not too much to ask, can we watch The Notebook?”

“The Notebook? But it’s getting late,” you said with a questioning lilt in your voice. Night had fallen, and though you couldn’t see, you knew the moon was nearing the apex of the sky.

“Please?” he begs, pressing hands together and bowing his head–praying you would answer his pleas. You giggle, after all, who were you to refuse?

Taking your laptop out of its sleeve, you boot up your projector to connect. You pull up a chair next to Jushiro’s bed, but before you can sit down, he sits up and scoots over on the small bed, patting the empty spot next to him.

“Are you sure?” you query, wanting to double-check. It had been months since you had shared a bed with him and as much as you wanted to lay beside him, you were scared to lie next to him because of the intricate wires that draped along the mattress. Not wanting to accidentally tug on them and cause an accident.

“Of course, what better way to end my birthday than cuddling with my wife?” he teases, picking up another piece of paper. You felt tears well in your eyes, threatening to spill. Your heart squeezes as you lift the thin blanket, brush the tubes and wires to the side, and climb in. You were careful not to lift too much of the blanket and not to send the cranes at the end of the bed flying.

“How many cranes are we at?” eyeing the colorful origami that lay at your feet.

“976 cranes now, I think,” he responds, looking at his tally.

“We’re so close!”

He smiles knowingly. You both knew the inevitable but turned a blind eye to it. Ignorance is bliss, after all. Even if your wish didn’t come to fruition, passing the time by folding these cranes had become a welcome distraction from what was to come. Laying your head on his shoulder, you carefully link your arm around his so you can both fold more cranes. He reaches to the bedside table and grabs more paper, giving you some. Closing your eyes, you relish this moment. You had not known peace until Jushiro came into your life and swept you off your feet.

“I love you, Jushiro.”“I love you more, Y/N.”

He felt so warm, so very, very warm. The heavy feeling in your chest dissipates as you snuggle your head into his shoulder. Blinking slowly, you watch as the… Amidst your dreams, you felt a hand graze yours, taking the slip of paper between your fingers. Soft, cold lips press a ghostly kiss on your temple, sending a chill down your spine. Causing you to bury yourself more in Jushiro’s warmth. You thought you heard a deep, familiar chuckle–followed by a deep rumble and muffled coughing.

When you woke up, the first thing you notice was the blinding light of the sun that flood the room and stung your eyes; it had stopped snowing. The second was a long, flat beep that rang in your ears. That cold, clammy feeling grips your heart tightly as it pounds loudly in your chest. You kept your eyes shut, squeezing them tightly, taking comfort in the void you saw until colorful shapes and patterns circled round and round. You couldn’t move, his head resting on yours. You didn’t want to move, but you knew you had to. Shifting slightly to face him, you peer through Jushiro’s veil of white hair. His eyes were closed and his tender smile was ever present. Though he felt warm, you were sure it wasn’t his own. You felt like you needed to vomit—to cry out, yet, strangely, no tears came. You swallow thickly, staring at his face; he looks serene, the most you have seen in months.

The third was the cranes that were scatter on his and your lap. Counting each carefully, and double-checking to make sure you were correct, you count 23 colorful cranes.

999…

Clenching your fist, you inhale sharply as you feel a dull pain poking the inside of your sweaty palm. His hands clasp yours, your fingers laced in his tightly. You look down, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion; what was in your hand? You open your hand carefully, not wanting to let Jushiro’s hands just yet. You see a flash of green and white pattern paper in the crevice of your hands. Your lips parted, but no words came out–your throat feeling dry.

In your hand, the 1000th paper crane, one fold from completion.

A/N: I'll remaster this someday, probably. Sorry again if there are grammatical mistakes, I tried proof-reading it but I'm super tired lol.

Thank you for reading, as always!

[3416]

I'm here in your inbox. Mitch Marner is arrogant. Can't wait for him to be gone offt hockey team. Berube will make sure of it.

omg thanks for coming. LKFJDSKLFKLS, i actually laughed out loud seeing the ask notif BUT ANYWAY... berube is legit gonna love him though................... even mike babcock didn't hate the guy despite deciding to psychologically torture him a bit as a rookie and even THAT wasn't enough to run him off..... i'm not gonna argue mitch doesn't have an ego, as every talented pro player does, but i do think it's incredibly funny that you (and everyone that shares those opinions) think mitch isn't one of the hardest working or maybe THE most versatile player the leafs have. accountability isn't something mitch marner lacks, as much as that's the tone deaf narrative in leafs-uncle-land.

[screampied]

I feel like Sukuna eats pussy the best in jjk (besides Geto). Like he'd be FEASTING till you're crying and shaking

꒰১ warnings. fem! reader, ōral (f receiving), mild dacryphila, eating from the back, impact play, he has a forked tongue

whenever it came to pussy eating—sukuna ryōmen was just nasty,

with no shame whatsoever, he doesn’t care. all he really cares about is having you arched over the wooden leg of his throne, your ass all out and drinking out orgasm after orgasm out of you. he really knows no bounds— a starved man, he’d eat you out until there’s fat tears sticking against your naturally lengthy lashes. “o-oh my goddd,” you’d whimper out. not even seconds after, you’d just finish a release and he’s already delving his long tongue between your slick folds again. your taste makes him groan, he’s never had anything as sugary sweet as you. a sharp nail of his gingerly scrapes against the juncture of your curves as you arch forward. your mouth opens—pretty pink tongue unfurling as you’re just feeling the tip of his tongue wander to its hearts content. he’s messy, if it’s not dripping down his chin he doesn’t want it. you shudder, feeling him thrust his tongue in and out of your puffed cunt before he pries your thighs open further. you gasp, hearing him gather a nice amount of spit before it delivers right against your dripping entrance. “s-sukuna, you’re so nasty.”

“gotta be when your pussy’s this wet,” he huffs.

a thumb stroking down against your swollen slit. with a tongue skimming across his lips for an extra relishing taste, he rolls his tongue out all the way and you can even hear his throaty, ‘ah’ noises as he prepares to dive back in.

sukuna groans, feeling himself get hard just from pleasing you. with a rude spank, he speaks in a rough tone. “arch for me more. ‘m starved ‘n i need seconds.”

it’s not even long before the curse is nose deep. your pulsating folds were continuously being sucked and you already feel your tummy heaving. then texture of his tongue. the length, the forked structure of it all that repeatedly slurps everywhere inside of you makes your toes curl up. despite them curling, they were numb anyway so you felt practically nothing.

he’s snarling, fangs of his occasionally poking against your clit. sukuna chuckles as he feels your ass wriggle against his face, he brings a thumb towards your hood before he glides it across. “what a fuckin’ mess. jus’ can’t get enough, can ya?”

and with sukuna— he’s thorough.

and while you’re happily arched over for him, eyebrows bunched together into a cute furrow, he makes sure that his tongue licks every part of you. a wet, slippery trail from your pussy to your ass, even between the secluded inner crevices of your thighs. he’s greedy, he doesn’t like when you make an attempt to touch yourself. each time you try to play with your pretty cunt whilst he’s eating, he smacks your hand away, grousing a “don’t touch my girl.”

his girl— your pussy.

sukuna’s favorite thing to do would be to constantly spit on your folds, only to lap it up, then spit on it again,

bonus if he finishes eating you out, telling you to come here, then makes out with you so you can taste how much of a messy girl you were for him. he likes hearing you moan, the nibbling he creates against your slit has you sobbing profusely. with your own two hands, you feel against your mounds that were glued against your chest, rocking against his face as you feel yourself approaching the inevitable abyss of pleasure. a groan leaves his lips as your ass jerks against him, he’s gotta hold you still so he can savor this,

savor you..

with glistening reddened lips of his, sukuna briefly departs his mouth from your love palette and with crimson bloodshot eyes—his own lustrous saliva dribbles down between your slit, dragging a thumb to softly snake against your convulsing nub. your mouth stupidly dangles open that it’s almost comedic. you then feel a whimper die out your throat, rubbing your ass against his face, “kuna, ‘s good, right there pleasepleaseplease.” it’s only then when he snakes a hand between your thighs, prodding his fingers alongside your saturated pussy. the moment sukuna starts to maneuver tiny circles and shapes against your pussy, you were just about done for. the staticky friction from his palm going against your folds scratches such a lewd itch in your brain.

you’re going haywire—crazy for more of his touch. as years merely blinded you from how they were welling into your sockets, your voice becomes strained from your numerous whimpers. he sucks you so good, so much of your slick pours down his chin that it even starts to get into his kimono.

sukuna ryōmen was nasty,

but his tongue was even nastier.

it doesn’t miss a single spot, he’s all in the depths of anywhere and everywhere.

you chew your lip in salacious anticipation. unhurriedly, you rock back against his mouth as you feel his callused fingertips gripping against both parts of your ass, spreading it even further.

sukuna leisurely dips his tongue into you once more, it’s probably been the umpteenth time by now as he kisses against your clit. “mhm,” he’d hum to himself, your eyes were visibly rolling back. you saw nothing but darkness. as he’s bringing you closer and closer toward the edge. your nails grip against the arms of his throne, embedding into the hardened material before you whine, shimmery tubby tears forming above the outer corneas of your dilated pupils before you make a cute attempt at crawling away from his mouth but he drags you back.

“girl get the fuck back here. can’t have my meal runnin’ away now, huh.”

[tonycries]

Never Ever Seen This Before!

Synopsis. There’s a first time for everything - including trying out dirty little kínks with them.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cóckwarming, mating press, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, marking, spitting, bóndage, spanking (Nanami’s), dynamics, degradation, cúmplay, squírting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. *sigh* can’t believe I deleted this before. If you know, then YOU KNOW.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Stay still, goddammit!

Was being stuffed full of your boyfriend’s thick cock at all times really too much to ask? You think not. 

Toji, however, really didn’t see the point.

“But, doll.” he groans, dragging his tip lazily in-between your swollen folds. And it was so sloppy - slick trailing down his length, smearing across the sheets. “Jus’ wanna fuck your pretty lil’ cunt.”

It’s not that Toji doesn’t like the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock. No, he loves it - is addicted even. And he loves it especially when you attack him in the morning like this - his pretty girl, all splayed out on her side, barely even blinking the sleep out of her eyes before you ache for his dick. 

But, really, what’s the use of staying still - he’d rather fuck you till you’re breathless and creaming around his cock.

“Toji, you promised we’d try. Jus’ want to be stuffed full of your cock.” you pout, batting your lashes behind at him. “Don’ make me go on a sex ban.”

Oh, you little minx. He knew all your dirty tricks - yet, fell for them each time anyway. “Fine. Then fucking-” he lifts your legs a little higher, hips pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Take it.”

You barely even hear the rest of his sentence because Toji’s immediately bullying his throbbing dick into your pussy. Pushing against the resistance as you struggle to take his thick cock, not stopping till he’s buried all the way in your wet cunt.

Smirking at the way you mewl and grind your hips back into his, he wraps two muscled arms around your waist, holding you still on his cock. Murmuring in your ear, low and gravelly, “Not s’pposed to move, doll. Remember?

God, he knows you feel the way he twitches inside your dripping cunt at the way you whisper out a shaky little, “Y-yeah. No moving.”

And stubbornly you grit your teeth, being able to do nothing more than clamp down so deliciously on Toji’s pulsing cock as you stay still, relishing in the burn of him stretching you impossibly.

And maybe it’s been minutes - or even hours, because God did it feel that way to Toji as he watched you being broken by the mere feeling of being split apart on his cock. Patience slowly waning, he snakes down a hand to your poor, forgotten clit. Index tracing lightly over the sensitive bud. 

“T-Toji what-” you immediately jolt, finally getting an ounce of the friction your cunt has been aching for this whole time. Mindlessly grinding into his erection - only to be stopped by a large hand on your hip. 

“No moving, doll. Remember?”

“But-”

“Didn’t say anything about playing with your pretty lil’ clit now, did you?” he hums, knowing you were playing right into his hands. “Now. Don’t move.”

Ah, you can do nothing but lay there and take it as Toji presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Fingers starting to press, frantic, hard little circles on your swollen clit. Over and over- Like he was fucking you with his fingers the way he couldn’t with his dick. 

Ugh, damn him. Damn him and his fingers that knew you so well.

It was maddening.

“Toji- please.” you sob out, powerless against the bruising grip keeping you in place. You wanted to move. You wanted him so bad. 

“‘Please’ what?” he grunts. Clearly torn between focusing on drawing steady, agonizing patterns on your clit and fighting that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy over and over. Not stopping till you were cockdrunk and crying to cum.

“Please just fuck me- ah!”

Oh, you didn’t have to tell Toji twice. Because in one, fluid move, Toji’s pulling back, fucking you with harsh, jerky little movements of his hips. Twitching balls smacking you with each thrust. Not even caring to wait and let you adjust because fuck cockwarming, he’s wanted this so long and your needy lil’ pussy is milking him so good- “Shhh, it’s okay, doll. We have lotsa time to practice.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - So mean!

Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Always holding the door open, guiding you through crowds, gifting you bouquets even when there wasn’t a special occasion. 

The only problem was that Nanami was a gentleman even when you didn’t want him to be. Even when what you really wanted was for him to push you down and tease you till you were crying and begging for his cock. 

Like right now - kissing softly down your neck, large hands trailing across your skin as he lays you gently on your bed. Long fingers dipping into your soaked panties, drawing delicate patterns on your quivering thighs. But you’re not in the mood for delicate.

“K-Kento!” you whine, hips bucking into his featherlight touches. “Can we ah- do that thing we talked about?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.” he murmurs against your skin. 

You let out a pouty whine, one that you knew would make him break. “But I want you to, Kento. Wan’ you to break me. Please.”

He lets out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. A loaded second of silence passes. One. Two. And just as you’re about to admit defeat, surprisingly, it’s Nanami that breaks the silence. “Fine then. Face down, ass up if you want to act like such a lil’ slut.”

You scramble to do what he says, mind reeling from the fact that oh this was Nanami - the same Nanami who’d never raised his voice or ever called you anything other than terms of endearment.

“Hm, good.” he grits out.

And that’s all you hear before a deafening rip! rings through the heady room. Looking back in shock, you realize with a jolt that Nanami had your tattered panties in his hands, your dripping cunt on full display for him. 

As he positions himself behind you, resting his swollen cock the curve of your ass. Mindlessly, you push back against the feeling of Nanami’s achingly hard cock, hot and heavy on your skin, precum smearing everywhere. “Ken-”

Smack!

“Not Kento, darling.” he murmurs, palms smoothing over your ass. Lips kissing down your spine, in a way that would be so sweet if it wasn’t for the way he had you under his mercy. 

You let out a strangled moan at the sharp sting, his large handprint searing into your skin.  “S-sir?” you whisper, almost-experimentally. And oh was it the right answer - because he groans appreciatively, dick jumping so animalistically at the term leaving your swollen lips. 

“Oh? So my slutty girl does know how to be good, huh?” he murmurs, voice so uncharacteristically dangerous. Hands spreading your swollen folds to take in the sight of your wet pussy. “Shit. Since m’feeling so nice, count to five n’ I’ll fill that tight lil’ cunt with my cock.”

You barely have the time to wonder what he means before you feel a sharp slap against your ass. Forcing you to yelp out a strained little, “O-one, sir.”

Nanami hungry eyes greedily take in the fat tears clinging to your lashes, hips bucking into his for more. Your mouth dropping into such a delicious little oh! as you’re torn between pain and pleasure. 

You were so sweet falling apart underneath him that he can’t help but do it again. Smack! And again. Smack! 

“Two. Hah! N’ t-three.”

Good, now it was time to put his good girl to the test. 

With a low hiss of appreciation, he drags his throbbing cock across your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices on his tip. At the same time, Nanami’s hand connects with your ass again. Hard. Smack! 

“Ah! Oh-”

“Count.”

“Four! Ngh- four, sir.”

Nanami’s amusement spikes at the way you were so desperately rutting into his cock. And, well, what his pretty slut wants - she gets, right?

Several things happen at once,  he swiftly raises his hand for a final, hard smack. Hips reeling back ever-so-slightly to ram his cock into your snug cunt at the same time. Smack! 

“Ah! Kento- Kento hgnh- shit feel s’good inside me.” you mewl, drunk off both the sharp sting on your ass and Nanami bullying his thick cock into your tight pussy, filling you up so good. 

But not for long - because as soon as he was stuffing you full of his cock, Nanami’s pulling out just as fast. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you whirl behind to pout at him. Only for whatever whine to get stuck in your throat at two fingers shoving something flimsy and wet in your mouth. Forcing you to taste yourself.

Gagging around your soaked panties, a jolt runs down your spine at the positively feral glint in his eyes. Blinking away the tears in your eyes to take in the cruel little smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to whisper, “My lil’ slut can’t even seem to remember what to call me, huh? I think she should be punished.”

Oh.

What have you done?

♡ GETO SUGURU - Drown me in it!

Geto Suguru has done it all - folded you in half, stuffed you full from all ends, had you begging and crying for more underneath him. He can confidently say that he hasn’t shied away from ticking off everything on the list.

That is until one random night in the shower, when he gets an epiphany - oh shit, Geto hasn’t made you squirt yet. Yes, it was the sudden image of you covering him in all your sweet juices. But more importantly - how dare he let his pretty girl go so long without cumming so hard you see the pearly gates of heaven? 

So - like any good boyfriend - Geto has you splayed out on his navy sheets, your legs in the air, his painfully hard cock buried in your dripping cunt. 

“Hngh- please. Shit shit shit m’cumming-” you whine, hips bucking wildly into his. Tears streaming down your face, clenching so hard around his dick that it makes it hard for Geto to thrust in and out at his steady, torturous rhythm. Fucking you through- which number orgasm was this again? 

Ah, it doesn’t matter - because you didn’t squirt. Again. 

“Awww…” you can barely hear his words over the blood roaring in your ears. “Didn’t squirt on that one either. C’mon now, my love, I know y’can do it f’me.”

Not wasting a second, Geto’s ramming his cock into your snug cunt once more. Heavy balls stinging your ass with each thrust - not even easing you into it any more because oh your little sobs were so pretty. Squirming and bucking into his touch despite your protests. “S-Sugu- I hah-, can’t-”

Now, as much as Geto loved your smart mouth - he loved it even more when you’re cockdrunk and babbling underneath him. Huffing out a laugh, he murmurs in your ear, “Yes, my love?” Veins grazing that one spot. Hard. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t cum anymore!”

Well - greedy gaze drinking in the way your swollen cunt swallowed him up so well, slick dripping down to his twitching balls - Geto begged to differ.

“Shut up. You will.” he mutters, shifting the angle to hit that one spot that has you gasping and bucking your hips for more. Your fists bunching up the soaked sheets below you, fucking yourself desperately into his throbbing cock. Curling deftly against that one spot. Over and over-

“Close, my love?” Geto sing-songs, “Think this could be the one?”

And oh does he find out. Because you’re cumming again - stars behind your eyes, walls clamping down so sinfully as he fucks you through your high. Your nails claw at his shoulders in an effort to get him to fucking slow down - but no, Geto is ruthless with his abuse. Hips faltering only once you show signs of your high bating. 

And before you can even react, your boyfriend’s starting his movements again. Milking himself on your heavenly pussy. 

You can’t even form coherent sentences at this point, only fucked-out whimpers leaving your swollen lips - it’s been like this for hours now. You’ve cum more times than you can probably count, yet here Geto was - not even once tonight. A slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. All because he wanted you to fucking squirt.

His thumb was ravaging your sensitive clit, pleasure nothing more than tingles now as Geto fucking ruins you. Hips bullying his thick cock into your heated pussy, thrusts no more than sloppy little movements. Your pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor.

Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 

“C’mon, my love.” his words were so sweetly whispered in your ear - barely audible over your cries. Geto nips at your earlobe, purring lowly, “Squirt on this one, n’ I’ll fill your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum like you want s’bad.”

And then, it happens - something snaps.

Your orgasm crashes through you. So violent and hard that you see flashes of white behind your eyes. You cry out, trembling as your sloppy pussy squirts all over Geto. Covering him in all your sweet juices till his abs are glistening with your slick. Dripping down his body and absolutely soaking the sheets below.

And oh how he was entranced. Geto barely registers his own orgasm, hips faltering as he pumps thick, hot ropes of seed into your quivering cunt. Cumming at the mere sight of you creaming on his cock. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him.

It was so so worth edging the both of you to the brink of insanity. He thinks his only regret was not having you squirt all over his face too.

Well…now he only had to see if he could do it twice.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Lollipop!

Shit, you thought your best friend would have a huge dick - but this was ridiculous. 

So intimidatingly long and pretty, swollen tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching his blushing cheeks. Beads of precum leaking down, down, down the side so mouth-wateringly as you seat yourself in-between those sculpted thighs.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” Choso hisses, despite the way his cock throbs animalistically in your soft hands. 

You raise a brow, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently. “Are you sure, Cho? S’your first, after all.”

He should say no. He should laugh it off as a joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Have you choking and gagging around him. So, any rationality thrown out the window, Choso nods slowly. Entranced. 

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, hot breath making his angry cock twitch “Thought so.” 

“But are you su- hngh!” Whatever sentence at the tip of his tongue is cut off as you spit on his length. Once. Twice. Your palms smearing the saliva along his throbbing length. Enough of an answer. And then there’s no more talking. 

Choso’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief as your tongue darts out to collect the saliva and precum pooling at his head. 

Moaning at his slightly salty taste, you take in as much of him as you can - inch by fucking inch. Not stopping till your nose meets the small tufts of black hair at this toned pelvis. Because this was your devastatingly sexy best friend and he deserved the best. 

God, Choso already thinks he could pass out. 

Heavy balls squeezing so painfully, his veins graze against the roof of your mouth as you start bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless pace. Milking Choso’s pretty cock for all he’s worth. Not even easing him into his first, because fuck only one taste and you’re already addicted. 

So, really, it only makes sense that Choso was the same. “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your warm, plush mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 

Was this what heaven felt like? He really was missing out.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, feel s’good around me, sweetheart.” he groans, as you tongue at his sensitive slit. Fingers digging into the soft armrest while he tries to keep himself together.

You notice - of course you do - because soon enough you’re grabbing his arms to rest on your head, teary eyes blinking up at him so sinfully as you suck the soul out of him. 

In a split-second, Choso’s carding his fingers through your hair, holding you steady as he rams his cock down your throat. 

“Fuck- m’s-sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh- fucking good.” his words slur together, drunk off the way you gag around him. Letting yourself be so used as he fucks your mouth so ferally. Not half the man he was just a moment ago.

By God were you a vision, he thinks deliriously - tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, lips stretching so lewdly around him as you take him in and out in and out in and- And if he angled your head just right he could see the bulge in your throat. Him - all him. “Sorry- ah! s’pretty hgnh- pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

“Gonna be m’first, huh?” he moans deliriously, “”Gonna let me fuck up into that pretty lil’ mouth whenever I want?” 

The only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles, and the smacking of his heavy balls hitting your chin. This was heaven and you were an angel.

And that only makes Choso speed up his sloppy thrusts more. Each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Balls tightening, feeling his sanity crumbling away each time his throbbing erection hits the back of your throat. Over and over-

“Ah! Sweetheart- m’not gonna last long. M’close-” he lets out a guttural groan, tugging on your hair to pull you away.

But alas, you seemed every bit intent on ruining him. Because the only response he gets are your nails digging deeper into his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. Ones for him to remember you by - not that he thinks he could ever forget this.

And that itself is enough to have Choso spilling into your mouth. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

Heart in his throat, breaths ragged, Choso has to blink his vision back. And if he thought he was going to pass out before then he wasn’t ready for you to proudly stick out your tongue - showing absolutely no trace of his cum. Swallowing everything he gives.

“I-I think,” he starts, voice shot, “S’time for me to return the favor.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Drunk on you(r cunt)!

Why the hell would the King of Curses ever kneel down to anyone? 

Why would he ever wrestle your legs so shamefully open, dive nose-first into your pretty pussy, and tease you with his tongue for hours? Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock for the sole purpose of making you cum and only making you cum?

But, well, that’s exactly what happened. 

“Oh- Kuna! Please-” you mewl, big fat tears dripping down your face at this point. Not knowing whether to move your hips away or buck up into his tongue for more more more-

“What now, brat?” he hums into your dripping cunt, vibrations making you squeal. “Complained that I don’t eat out your pretty lil’ cunt n’ now you’re acting so spoiled?”

Ah, there it was - that offhand little remark that got you into this mess. “B-but,” you whine, stars behind your eyes each time Sukuna laps at your sweet juices. “Didn’t think you’d be so mean-”

All you get is a dark chuckle as Sukuna sucks on your throbbing clit, so sensitive from his relentless abuse. Rolling his tongue over it so teasingly. 

Now, this might be his first time eating you out, but he knows exactly what you need - what you crave. And the way your body trembled under his touch told Sukuna everything about how you were brinking so dangerously close to the edge. Too close. 

“Please, Kuna! Wan’ cum s’bad.” you cry out, broken little moans of pleasure leaving your swollen lips. Ones which quickly turn into disappointed whines as he pulls away. Again.

“M’not being mean.” he murmurs in your ear, drinking in that adorable little pout on your face. 

In the haze of your lust-addled mind, you barely register the way he flips you two to lay on his back. Manhandling you further up the mattress you to be splayed out so sinfully above him - thighs straddling his devastatingly handsome face, hot breath hitting your dripping cunt.

“See?” Sukuna hums, tongue darting out to catch the obscene drip! drip! drip! of your slick. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “M’the best fucking boyfriend you’ll ever have.” And with that, he’s bullying his tongue through your swollen fold. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-

“Ngh- feels s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Sukuna’s tongue. 

Why was he so reluctant again? Something about stupid fucking pride? Fuck that, Sukuna would be on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal.

God, you were pretty sure you’d be collapsing onto him if it wasn’t for the strong hand holding your hips. Grip almost bruising as he rocks you harder - more obscenely - on his tongue. The other snakes down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your swollen clit - as if you weren’t losing your sanity enough

And maybe if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that Sukuna was, too. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, pussy-drunk and watching awe-struck at the sinful sight of you. Devouring the sight of you the way he was with your cunt. 

Fuck, why does this feel so good? He wasn’t even fucking getting off, but the more he made out with your sweet cunt, the more he could feel himself edging closer and closer to the edge. Rock-hard cock angry and leaking precum all over his abs. The great Ryomen Sukuna cumming in his pants from eating his pretty girl out? 

Shit, Sukuna thinks deliriously, he was gonna have to make you cum. Soon. 

“Kuna- m’close.” you whimper, voice so soft as if you were afraid of being teased again.

“Oh yeah, brat?” he mutters into your folds, “Want it s’badly, huh? Wan’ cum on my tongue?” 

The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Yes yes yes! Can’t take it anymore, wan’ cum. Make me cum, please!” you keen. Fucked-out little whines of Sukuna’s name leaving your mouth as he speeds up his movements.

“Then cum.”

And you are, clenching so lewdly around his soft tongue as you ride out your high on his face. Your juices glossing his lips so prettily. And oh Sukuna’s so entranced by you creaming around his tongue that he almost misses the feel of thick, hot spurts of his cum now pooling on his abs. Fuck, he was going to have to do this very often.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Break him!

Gojo always fucked you like his own personal sextoy. And now, it was only time for you to pay back the favor. Which is why you had him handcuffed to the bed, shirtless and splayed out to absolutely fucking ruin. 

“Hah, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.” Gojo chuckles, tugging on the metal cuffs. Still so cocky despite the way his throbbing dick was leaking all over his sculpted abs, twitching at the mere sound of your voice. 

“How nice.” you hum, sliding your pussy across his swollen cock, drenching him in your juices. “Because I won’t be.” And before Gojo can retort, you’re sinking down on his achingly hard cock, squeezing him inside your tight cunt as much as you can. 

“Shit shit shit, yes. Your pretty lil’ pussy feel s’amazing wrapped around me. You sure you can handle it all, baby?” 

You waste no time. Slamming down on Gojo’s leaking cock in one, abrupt motion, walls burning at the stretch as your ass meets his heavy balls. They twitch against you as you start moving in steady little bounces, sliding his thick cock in and out of your dripping cunt. In out in and out in and-

“Shit, baby. Fuckin’ me s’good ah! Hngh-” Gojo’s sinful moans come in ragged bursts. Fucking up into your pussy in shallow, defiant little thrusts to bully himself deeper and deeper inside you. But not for long - because you’re pushing his hips down, nails digging into the milky skin of his hips.

“Nope.” you hum, grinning at his pout. “Not till you admit defeat, Toru.”

“What defeat? That all you got, baby?” Gojo scoffs.

Stubborn bastard.

“‘What defeat’, huh?” you taunt. Leaning down so your breath fans his pretty face, “Said I couldn’t- handle it-” Each word is punctuated by you slamming down hard onto his swollen cock. Snug cunt massaging his veins as you pull up all the way - till his leaking tip is just kissing your sloppy hole, rocking your hips down hard at a punishing pace. “Look at you now, huh?”

You risk a glance into his eyes and oh- he liked it.

The great Gojo Satoru - revered like a God since birth - liked being treated like a mere fucktoy at your hands. Loved it even - if the way he twitched inside you was anything to go by it. Oh how you enjoyed being the one to bring him down to his knees.

Immediately, your hand reaches to grab the blindfold hanging haphazardly on his neck. “C’mon, Toru.” you warn, breaths ragged at the way his fat tip kissed your cervix. Tugging - hard - Gojo breath hitches in his throat as you whisper, “Jus’ give up.”

His pretty lips part slightly as you speed up your movements. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 

“God, fuck- hah. Nah, more talk than walk, huh?”

Your hand tightens around the delicate blindfold, relishing in the wet little gurgles that leave him at the pressure around his throat. Balls squeezing painfully as you hypnotize him with your heavenly cunt. Alternating between agonizingly slow strokes and a sloppy, erratic bouncing - edging him closer and closer to the edge. Only to shatter his orgasm and his ego. Fuck.

“I know you want to cum, Toru.” your sweet voice snaps him out of his reverie, and Gojo stares up into your hazy, powerdrunk eyes. “Just admit defeat.”

“No.”

“Toru.” you start, sultry and dangerous. “Admit it.”

He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out through those long lashes. “No.” he repeats, jaw clenched tight.

A hand wraps around his blindfold, pulling him impossibly closer, not even a hair’s breadth between your sticky bodies. “Admit defeat, Toru.” your lips ghosting his, nipping at his bottom lip. “Admit defeat, n’ I’ll make your cock cum hard enough to see stars.”

And finally, “I hah- a-admit defeat.”

“Louder.”

“I was wrong! Was wrong, m’girl. Lemme cum please lemme cum-”

Throwing his head back, Gojo’s hips buck wildly into yours as you let him bully his dick into you with reckless abandon. Over and over- Using you just as much as you were using him. Not even an ounce of the God he was raised to be.

And oh does Gojo see stars - and you do too. Because with a strangled gasp of your name, he’s painting your snug cunt white with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Fucking his seed deeper and deeper, he fucks you through your high. Dazed blue eyes widening at the way your tight pussy was so overfilled, sticky seed dribbling out of you.  The sight of you creaming around his cock has his balls twitching exhaustedly. Fuck it was all too much. Flimsy handcuffs shattering with one pull, Gojo mutters raggedly, words sending shivers down your spine, “My turn, baby.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[buryeden]

There are knots in his stomach when Theo's hands claimed more of his body, some to hold back his desperation and others made in a reservation he thought he'd outgrown. His soul, dirty with the sins of a father he'd never met and casted away for being picked a mother he never knew, was in Theo's hands. He almost hoped that the blood he washed off of them was enough to not notice the grime every touch left behind.

Theo's touch was no longer a graze, some edge he insisted to find with unspoken intention he needed to be weary of. He doesn't regard him like a knife anymore. The other wasn't looking to study him for parts to take. Yet, no matter how many times he's brought himself into his arms, Wilder wonders just what he's thought of the pieces of himself already missing. They're carved out of his skin in hollowed circlets that never loose their blush, healed but never replaced. He can pretend that what is missing in the ripple of his skin is returned to him every time he touches him.

"I don't belong to them," Wilder murmurs. How could he explain to him that this name isn't a birthright, but a burden? Would he believe him if he told him his plan to run it to the ground and set it on aflame until nothing was left? "What's left of the Buchanans is mine, not the other way around."

And now I'm yours.

He presses another kiss to Theo's lips, convincing himself that this declaration he's taken from his mouth is something he can keep. The passion hasn't been spent yet and he can relish it.

There's something that finds him like a shadow, threatening him to dull this moment for what he's sparked it to be. The brighter he lets it burn, it will turn to ash faster. Theo hadn't said the same words back to him even if he hears it along every other word, tastes it glazed over ever kiss. A part of him doesn't want to hear it— a hundred times it's been handed to him empty and aimless, titular and nothing more. He doesn't need to hear it if he can feel it. Selfishly, he will devour it any way he can.

"You should be careful, though, Theo," He warns him softly.

this was much better. no more fighting, no more begging, just him kissing the younger man whose lips felt soft and warm against his. it was almost enough to make theo forget what they were even arguing about in the first place. it still lingered in the back of his mind, but he barely paid attention to it when it was clear that things were getting better now between them. he chuckled at the response that was given and pressed another, briefer kiss to will's lips while still keeping him close. "that's me, will. morally grey and enduring a lot of shit that you're better off not knowing about."

he might get into that later, but for now was not the time. he wanted to take in the younger man anyway he could, and this was a nice way to do it with will close enough that he could take in his scent and warmth. a hum followed his words that he he was able to believe given what he already knew about will, his hands now finding their way to his waist.

"then we can savor it." he agreed with his hand running along the man's back while listening to the man's words that admittedly sounded appealing. maybe things would work between them after all, but they did have to be careful. he couldn't just give in just to get what he wanted, and he knew that. but he could be agreeable which he knew was a rarity for someone like him.

"you want me to make you mine?" he asked, his one hand going back to resting against the other man's cheek. "alright, then you're mine. you're my boy and you're associated with me now. i won't let anyone else have you, wilder."