#I am not celebrating your weight loss

[theboggskids]

As funny as it is to imagine Randall teasing Johnny about his weight gain since college, I imagine that on the offhand Johnny actually cares about it (monster beauty standards implies that’s not likely), Randall would be more than happy to express how much more attractive he finds Johnny being so much bigger. If Johnny were smaller than Randall, that’d be the issue.

[pedgito]

𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Joel finds the perfect way to keep you quiet while he showers you with compliments.

author's note | i saw a text post ages ago that i cannot find that inspired this. here's a vaguely disguised new years themed fic and some pwp to celebrate. not to get sappy on a blowjob fic but i'm very thankful for this community and the ideas that have been shared, love you all <3

content warning | 18+ MDNI, jackson!joel, established dynamic, idiots in love, shy!reader, joel being a quiet lover in public but loud in private, this is a deeply emotional blowjob y'all buckle in, unprotected piv.

word count — 2k

“Am I gonna have to shut you up just so I can tell you how pretty you are?” Joel snarks, only half-joking.

You hated compliments.

Joel loved giving them.

It was a slow work in progress, trying to feel comfortable with the showering of words, the outward affection Joel showed in private. 

He appreciated that you weren’t big on public displays, enjoyed the idea of keeping you and this, all to himself.

But, he liked you—had for some time. It took months of courage before he could bring himself to admit it. It was after a long night of patrol, a grueling walk to your last stop. You had both collapsed in exhaustion on the dirtied couch in the lookout far west of Jackson, delirious with sleep when the words finally left his lips. 

Even then, as he spoke, your hands found their way over your face, the heat of embarrassment prickling your skin as you shied away from him.

He’s learned to do it in subtle ways—a smile, longing looks, a touch, learning that love could be translated in many ways, not just words.

Besides, he wasn’t all that good at words anyways.

You decided to drag him back to your house after the annual New Year's celebration in Jackson—Tommy insisted that it was something to celebrate.

Another year of survival, another year without detrimental loss. Every day was something to cherish, but the party was a way to take a weight off of everyone’s shoulders.

You and Joel had never nailed down exactly what you were doing—just that you enjoyed it, you liked him, and he fancied you. He said it all the time, even now as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You are so old-fashioned,” You snorted softly, helping him strip the thick winter coat down his shoulders, torn on one sleeve still from a fight with another small group. You had promised to stitch it up. You were good on your promises, he knows you’d get to it eventually. 

He separates from you briefly, placing it carefully over the barstool in your kitchen before he’s pushing you up against your couch, your ass pressing against the hard edge of the back, nearly tumbling as he presses his lips against yours again, your hands curving around the back of his neck as you kiss him back in earnest.

“Somethin’ wrong with that?” He teases, “I know an old man who’s real good at makin’ you scream.”

You giggle softly, “Hush,” You chastise him, allowing him to lead you blind until you both could land on the couch safely, straddling his lap as he worked at your jeans, fitting his hands underneath the denim and cotton of your underwear as he squeezed at your ass, cupping the flesh tight in his hands as you gasp, nudging your nose against his as you breath into his open mouth, “You and that mouth, I swear.”

Joel chuckles, eyes opening to yours closed, hiding your face away as you mouth at his neck, pressing gentle kisses into the skin as he squeezes at your ass harder, a moan slipping past your lips involuntarily.

“There she is,” He says with an air of wonder, like he’d just discovered something new, his overgrown curls tickling at your nose, “s’just me and you—don’t be shy.”

“I’m not—“ You argue, “you know I’m not.”

You widen your legs, grinding down against the growing length beneath the zipper of his jeans, leaning back as his eyes drag down your body, slipping his hands from your jeans to squeeze at your thighs, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth with your lazy rhythm.

“I know, baby,” Joel coos, “need me to fuck you? Don’t you?”

You nod fervently, “Please—Joel, please.”

Your lips part, perching forward to grip into the collar of his shirt as you lazy movements become more frantic, face contorting in pleasure as your tongue glides along your bottom lip, distinctly aware of Joel’s affectionate gaze.

“Fuck—never gonna get tired of that,” Joel speaks aloud, one hand rising to cradle your face as his thumb drags over you wet lip, “how pretty you look when you get needy—pretty all the damn time, but—“

You kiss him quick in an effort to silence him, his laughing blending into a groan as you bite down on his bottom lip, stripping your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before you’re reaching for his belt, loosening it while he licks into your mouth, the subtle taste of malt liquor on your breath.

It matched his own, sharing a drink with him earlier in the night as he hid away in the corner of the room, as he often did at parties, too eager to get his hands on you as he watched you work your magic, gracing your smile upon everyone that passed, keeping up small talk that Joel would rather not suffer through. 

“Got a request,” He tells you, speaking against your lips as you hum in question, “how much d’ya want me to beg to get those lips around my cock?”

You giggle softly, wordlessly you move toward the floor, working against his jeans before he’s helping you shove them down far enough that he can scoop his balls into his hand, rolling them against his fingers as he wraps his other hand around his cock, pushing his thumb over the head as he guides it into your waiting mouth.

It was always a stretch, even like this.

You apply a gentle kiss before your lips spread, the faintest taste of precum at the tip of your tongue before you’re guiding your mouth down his cock, the salty taste of the velvet skin around him, a musky but sweet taste to the opaque liquid gathered at the slit.

“Perfect, fucking perfect,” He breathes, running his finger through your hair as he pushes it back, his other hand hovering nearby, curling into a tight fist as you press your nose into the thick patch of curls at the base, “shoulda stuffed this mouth sooner, seems to do the trick.”

You gag against his forceful movement, burying the head of his cock into your throat so far his teeth clenched, leaving you effectively silenced.

“S’that what it took, a mouthfulla’ cock and you won’t stop me from complimentin’ you for once?”

Beggars can’t be choosers, he’d take it.

And such a pleaser you were, you had a job to do.

Usually he revels in the feeling, subdued and quiet while he watches you work, skilled hands and an exquisite mouth to match, he’d hit the jackpot somehow. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” He encourages, allowing you up for air for a brief moment as your spit slick mouth drools down his shaft, tears brimming your eyes, “fucking beautiful takin’ it all in like that—more?”

You nod, watching as he grips his shaft, tapping the mushroom shaped tip against your lips, teasing you as you slip your tongue along his shaft, guiding you back as you chase his movements.

“Work for it, baby,” He insists, “show me how bad you wan’ it.”

Impatience grows, you huff through your nose as you swat his hand away, wrapping your own hand around his cock instead, your mouth covering what your fingers couldn’t, your other hand cupping his balls, rubbing a single finger down the seam of his sack as you twirled your tongue around the dripping head, lapping up his cum at this slit.

“That’s right, lookin’ like a goddamn dream. Eyes on me, sweetheart,” He beckons, with you peeking through tear-stained eyes, silenced as your mouth is stuffed full of him.

Eventually, your tongue trails along the vein at the underside of his cock, reaching the seam of his sack before you’re rolling his balls along your tongue, sucking them between your lips with a wet noise that causes Joel to groan, his hand squeezing in your hair at the scalp.

“I would keep you like this for hours if you’d let me, wish you could see how fuckin’ amazing you look, gotta know how lucky I am to have you—I am, I’m so lucky, baby.”

In any other context, you would cry. 

It scared you, hearing the admission. The love Joel felt so immensely, the love that terrified you—because when things get too serious, they always go south. 

It was easier to keep things light—fun, simple. As much as you had found a home in Joel, nested in between his ribcage, around his heart—it was still constricting.

Physicality was easy to detach from.

Words, however, meant the world to you.

You couldn’t hear those words unless, in his heart, he truly meant them. Even then, it still terrified you. But, he had you now. Locked on his gaze, the words tumbling from his mouth like a dam finally breaking—you were done for.

“Stick your tongue out,” He orders gently, watching you move away to follow his order, rubbing the head of his cock over the wet, fleshy muscle, “always listenin’ so well, too,”

You feel the heat in your face return as you close your eyes to avoid his intense gaze, sucking him down eagerly as you shift from your haunches to your knees, hurrying your pace as he begins to fall apart, pathetic grunts of half pleasure and half plea filling the room.

Shamelessly, you swallowed him down again as he pressed against the back of your throat, holding yourself in place until he collapsed against the back of the couch, his hands tangled into your hair carelessly as you gagged, a distinct sound that brought Joel over the edge in an instant.

“Oh—oh, fuck. Darlin’, I fuckin’—“ His orgasm surges quickly to the surface, the warm of his cum spreading against your tongue as you swallow him down without hesitation, “God, I’m so in love with you,”

You can feel him shudder against your tongue, cock twitching as you remove him from your mouth, his chest releasing a sigh as he reaches blindly for your hand, silently begging you to come to him. You crawl slowly, careful as you position yourself over him again, his hand pushing your fallen hair away from your face as he pulls you in, breathing heavily into the lazy kiss he presses against your lips.

“Been tryin’ to tell you for so long,” Joel admits with a fond tone, “you’re always shuttin’ me down,”

“I’m sorry,” You admit softly, “S’just—words mean more to me than you think.”

“Oh baby—I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Joel assures, “I’m not throwin’ that shit around lightly. I mean it—every fuckin’ bit.”

You let the conversation fall silent, eyes scanning over his relaxed expression.

“Is that what it took, though?” Joel teases, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, pressing against the plush skin, “Gotta shut you up with my cock to tell you all the nice things you deserve to hear?”

“It does help, doesn’t it?” You counter with amusement, his face cracking into a smile, the skin beside his eyes creasing with emotion as you laugh, his own mixing with yours.

“It does,” He agrees with a chuckle, pulling you forward gently to curl his hand around the back of your head and pull you into his chest, echoing a quieter, “It does.”

Still undressed at the waist, Joel nips at your skin, a tell-tale sign of his persistence.

“Slow down, cowboy,” You tease, “It’s almost midnight—can’t have you skippin’ out on our kiss.”

“Better yet, I can start it off inside ‘ya,” He bargains, a deal that seemed far too good to pass up.

Joel is eager in his attempts to get you undressed from the waist down, shrugging his shoes and jeans off completely before you straddle his lap, gripping his cock with a delicate hold, slipping it inside of you slowly, enjoying the contortion of Joel’s expression as your walls squeeze around him. 

You can hear the muffled celebration off in the distance as Joel whispers something unintelligible into your skin, nudging your shirt up high enough with his nose until he can get his mouth on your skin, aiding the slow bounce of your hips with his hands as he pants, “I love you too,” You admit, “f’that wasn’t already clear.”

“Crystal, darlin’—but it is nice to hear.”

There was no rush for now, enjoying the sensation of each other’s bodies in a way that consumed you both, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips as you spoke into his open mouth.

“Happy New Year,” You tell him, fighting through your own quiet giggle.

Joel nods in approval, humming, “S’right—Happy fuckin’ New Year.”

[livwritessometimes]

Where's the Trophy? He Just Comes Running Over to Me (Part 1)

: Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, and Lewis Hamilton

: Part 2

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - Let me know if you guys want a part 2 with other drivers.

...

Lando Norris

Shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads

(Miami Grand Prix, 2024)

He did it! Lando finally got his first win. 

Years of doubt, years of criticism it didn't matter now. He finally was able to win for him and McLaren. As soon as he got out of the car, he was greeted by loud cheers from everyone there. On his way back to the team, he saw almost every single driver in the grid waiting there to congratulate him. 

"I'm so happy for you, Lando," said Carlos as he pulled in Lando for a hug. 

"Bout time, huh," said Max bumping into Lando as soon as he was done getting his weight measured. 

"I am so happy for you, mate," said Charles as he passed by Lando.

"You did great, man," said Oscar, who saw Lando enter the area where the team was eagerly waiting for him behind the barricade. 

Upon seeing the entire team waiting for him, Lando could not help it; he immediately took off to where they were standing. As soon as he reached them, Lando dove right in. 

The entire area was filled with the team cheering and chanting 'Let's Go, Lando' while carrying him over their shoulders. During that time, Lando's eyes landed on Y/n.

He immediately started to wiggle out of the team's grip. Everyone was confused as to what he was doing, but as they put him down, they got their answer. Lando sprinted towards Y/n and lifted her off the ground. 

"What are you doing?" Y/n shrieked as she felt Lando's body slam against her.

"Celebrating what else," Lando said as he pulled her even closer. 

"What about the team?" Y/n asked as she let her hands run through his hair.

"They can wait! I wanna celebrate it with you first," Lando said.

"You've been there through all my podiums, all my losses; you bet your ass you'll be there right front and centre through my wins too," he finished as he set her down on the ground.

"You truly are amazing; you know that, Mr. Norris, Grand Prix Winner," Y/n said, smiling up at Lando.

...

Max Verstappen

Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me

(Dutch Grand Prix, 2024)

Y/n was nervously waiting as she watched the race.

4 more laps. 3 more laps. 2 more laps.

That's what she kept telling herself as she watched the bull maintain the lead.

*flashback*

Max and Y/n had spent the majority of their day lying on the couch with Jimmy and Sassy. It was the last day before the race season began for the year.

"I love this," Max stated.

"Love what?" Y/n asked.

"These days," he said. "Where we spend all our time together," he continued.

"And why is that?" Y/n asked as she looked at Max from her spot, careful not to disturb the cat sleeping on her chest.

"It's nice; we are together, and I don't have to worry about anything," Max said. He continued, "I always feel like when I am away for so long, you'll realize that I'm just a loser who is not worth being with, and you'd break up with me."

The sincerity with which Max had said that made her feel bad. Reaching out to caress his cheek, Y/n said, "I'll never leave you, Maxie. No matter what." She added, "Even if we break up, I'd never leave your side. I'll always be the one that cheers the loudest for all your wins."

*present*

True to her words, Y/n was there at every race. Even though Max and her had broken up, Y/n just couldn't break the promise she had made.

The distance this time had really tested their relationship. All the stupid fights finally built up to something that the both of them could no longer ignore.

The past few races had not been good for Max. No matter what he did, he was not winning, and Y/n knew it was getting to him.

Despite the breakup, the two still remained friends; she constantly checked up on him, and she knew that he needed that win. He needed to win.

Finally, as the final lap began, everyone in the Red Bull garage was holding each other's hands for support. It was Max and Lando battling for first place. With each corner they passed, the team grew more and more anxious. Nearing the final corner, Max gave all that he had left to cover the few meters that were left. The car had not been the best; the team knew that; Y/n knew that; Max knew that. So it truly was Max that was making the car special, and he wanted to prove that he still could do it.

With a final push, Max crossed the finish line. Everyone in the garage went crazy. They all started running towards the barricade, waiting for Max.

The moment the car stopped, Max ran. He ran like he had never before. He didn't even bother taking off his helmet. All he could think of was one thing and one thing only.

As soon as the team saw Max running towards them, they started to cheer even louder. Ignoring them, Max ran straight towards Y/n, who was standing amongst the team, and pulled her in for a hug.

"I hate it," he said.

"I hate not being able to spend my time with you. I hate that we fought. And what I hate the most is the fact that no matter what happened, you're still here, and I can't call you mine," he finished.

"Max," Y/n said as she felt her eyes tearing up.

"It was a stupid decision to break up. I want you. Please give me a chance to make things right again," Max said as he pulled away.

"I hated the way things ended, and I want nothing more than getting back together, Maxie," Y/n said, smiling as she kissed Max's helmet.

...

Lewis Hamilton

I haven't come around in so long But I'm making a comeback to where I belong

(British Grand Prix, 2024)

Lewis could not contain his happiness. It was his first win of the season. It was his home race, and man did it feel amazing.

Looking at the crowd gathered around, he could not help but get emotional. Ever since 2021, Lewis has not been the same. He no longer was leading every race, he no longer won, and he no longer was the world champion. He was happy for Max, but it still burdened him. 

These few years had been a tough journey for Lewis. Everywhere he looked, he felt like it was a reminder to him that maybe it's time he quit racing. And usually he doesn't let this get to him; he has Y/n there to always pull him out of his thoughts. But as of late, no matter what she did or what his friends did, Lewis couldn't help but think that his age has finally caught up to him.

This seed of self-doubt had blossomed into a full-grown tree of trust issues and self-criticism. Lewis kept on thinking about how if he can't even keep winning, something he has known for almost half his life, then how can he even be called a husband to Y/n? 

At night when the two would be cuddling, Lewis' mind often drifted to a world where he was still winning, where he could have won his 10th championship by now. Where he and Y/n would have a really happy life—not that it isn't now, but somehow it is better. Where he was a better father to his son.

All those doubts were now forgotten, for a while at least.

"OH MY GOD! I AM SO PROUD OF YOU!" Y/n screamed as she ran up to Lewis and tackled him. 

The two fell over laughing as Y/n peppered Lewis' face with kisses. "I am so glad you were here to witness this," Lewis said as he wrapped his hand around Y/n.

"Are you kidding me? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I am so happy for you, Lew," Y/n said. "I know, no matter how much you try and hide it, I can see this has been troubling you. My love, promise me no matter what, you never let these doubts consume you," Y/n continued.

Lewis nodded at her, smiling softly. Of course she noticed; she always knew what he was thinking about.

"I mean it. I am always, ALWAYS here for you. So don't you dare lock yourself up in there every again," she said while pointing towards Lewis' temple.

Suddenly a new weight was added on top of them, and as the two turned, they saw their son had decided to join them on the ground. He wrapped his arms around Lewis and Y/n, "I'm so proud of you, dad," your little 6-year-old said as he pulled you both closer.

It was finally time for the national anthem. Lewis was standing at the top of the podium, looking down at his team and loved ones. He made eye contact with Y/n and his son and sent a flying kiss towards them. He smiled when he saw his son trying to catch the kiss. 

It felt right; standing at the top felt good, and Lewis swore to himself that this wouldn't be the last time.

...

Tags: @wobblymug | @evasmlp

[thehistoriangirl]

Hi!

Could you write something for Viktor in this Father's Day please??

Thank you so much, have a great day 🖤

Hi anon! For sure :3 I hope you like it

Little Genius

Viktor x Fem!Reader---1.4K----SFW

Tags: Established Relationship (they're married) | Pregnancy | Fluff | Viktor would be such a great dad yall can't change my mind | Happy Father's day to all who celebrate :3 | This is not proofread at all bc Father's Day is over in less than an hour i'm sorryyyy ;---; |

Viktor felt your head nudging against his side, making him lower the book he was reading since yesterday—since you had finished it without waiting for him to read it out loud. A small betrayal Viktor washed away with your extra long session of kisses after dinner.

He reached to turn off the lamp, your hand brushing his before he could pull the tiny rope. Golden eyes took in your alert face, body wiggling closer to him so Viktor could rest his right leg over your hip.

His hum reverberated in your whole body due to the closeness of your cheek and his chest, heart beating content as you melted against the soft touches, the nonsensical patterns he drew against the thin, worn-out fabric of your pajamas.

“Not tired yet?” he asked, looking at the clock hung on the wall almost reaching midnight.

“I want to show you something,” you said, fiddling with the loose threads of his favorite blanket, the one he packed from his house in Zaun and kept in Piltover, even now.

He mourned the sudden loss of your warmth once you incorporated in your elbows, reaching for the nightstand on your side of the bed. Though curiosity made his golden eyes twinkle as your fingers scouted the insides of the last drawer.

“What is it?” Viktor peeked over your shoulder, seeing your hand gently cradling a small, white box tied close with a golden ribbon. “Are you going to propose, my love? Because I’m sorry to tell you this, but I beat you to it around two years ago,” he chuckled, rubbing with his thumb over the golden band decorating a finger in your left hand. Soft, slightly dry lips kissing the reverse of your palm once you glared playfully at him.

“You’re not funny,” you said, thought your curved lips testified completely the opposite.

“I hate to argue with the love of my life, but I am. Otherwise I wouldn’t have win you over.”

“Well, what if I say that you win me over with your terrible jokes?”

Viktor feigned a deep betrayal just like they were represented in the Opera House; hand clutching his shirt over his heart, closing his eyes while his face twisted in a grimace of hurt. “Your words break my heart.” His hands enveloped your waist, pulling you against his chest. “You better have a plan to wound up my poor heart. Your devote lover is very sensible.”

You beamed at him, eyes crinkled in crescents. “I do have one.” Wriggling against his tangled hug, you sat with your legs crossed, settled right in front of Viktor, putting the box on his chest. “Open it.”

The mysterious object was covered with a layer of paper, and for a few moments all that it could be heard inside your shared room was the wrinkled paper being pushed away to reveal the gift.

“Huh?” Viktor frowned, his fingers brushing the softest fabric as he raised the clothing out the box to see it against the light of the bright, golden lamp.

A vivid, burnt yellow bib made of crochet in a pattern oddly familiar for his own baby clothes kept inside a bag under his mother’s bed back in Zaun. The lettering read: Papa’s Little Genius.

He gazed at you, founding your expression of pressed lips about to burst into giggles. “My love?”

“Do you know what day is today?” you said, brushing the empty box away to straddle his hips.

“Sunday?” He could barely articulate any words with your comfortable weight pressed against him.

You lowered over his chest, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck and nibbling on his ear just for the fun to see his pale skin flush deep crimson every time. “It’s Father’s Day,” your voice sent shivers down his spine, goosebumps traveling all over his body as his body torn between your allure making pool molten desire down his stomach, and his brain scrambling around by your shushed words.

“Father’s…” he said, holding your shoulders as he looked down toward you and over the bib resting on the pillow next to him. His golden eyes opened, a gasp hitching his already quickening breath. “Are you… you… I… we…”

You burst out laughing, your vision became blurry with the halo of tears pooling in your eyes. “Yes...,” you whispered, as if it were such a delicate thing, a dream, almost, that if talking too loud about it would make it disappear. “You’re going to be a Papa very soon.”

His teary eyes matched yours as he hugged him flush against him, taking in the smell of your hair, how perfectly he feels blessed at just basking in your presence. And now, not only had you given him your whole body and soul and heart. No, you were about to give him a legacy—a future carved in his blood and flesh.

A child.

His child.

His rough fingerpads caressed your cheeks, wishing to take in every little detail about this moment so he could treasure it for eternity.

“I thought I was the luckiest person in the whole world when you accepted to be my spouse, but now?” He laughed, wiping your tears away. “Now words can’t describe how I feel knowing that you’re carrying our baby.”

Viktor chuckled, his smile that one of a child’s that had just discovered the wonders of life for the first time. His hand cradling your belly.

“Hi, little one,” he muttered, almost afraid to cause a bad impression to his unborn baby. Fingers gently caressing the soft skin under your shirt. “I’m your Papa. Hi,” Viktor repeated, finding himself in a loss of words. “I… I promise I’m going to read a lot of books about parenting, and that I’m going to come up with pretty toys for you, and I promise that I will make daily time to play with you… and sing to you… and tucking you to bed,” his voice broke, a knot straining his throat. “I don’t know anything about being a father, but I promise you I will be the best for you, little one.”

With a groan, he sat on the bed, lowering his head to kiss your belly, hands interlocked in the small of your back. “Only the best for you and your stunning mother. I hope you look just like her,” he said with a chuckle. “Though I will struggle to ground if that occurs… hmm, just be easy on me, alright?”

He looked up at you, eyes full of wonder and pure, unfiltered adoration.

“I just know about them, but I already love them so,” Viktor confessed, caressing your hair, his hands pulling down your chin so his lips could encounter yours. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He mumbled between kisses of all kind—as soft as the brush of a feather, bold ones with his teeth biting your bottom lip, his tongue exploring your mouth in a slow, sensual dance. “I love you. I love you both,” he corrected, patting your belly.

“Do you like the bib?” you hummed, and he laughed. “Your mother scold me a lot because I kept getting lost while knitting the pattern.

“I knew I recognized that style.” He scanned the bib, arching a playful eyebrow toward you. “Little Genius, eh? Pretty high standards, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes, swatting his chest lightly. “You say that as if you won’t let them see all your blueprints and chalkboards full of equations the moment they’re born.”

Viktor’s heart fluttered at the thought. He would have to babyproof his studio—and for sure his child wouldn’t step inside the lab without a full-body protective uniform, but the thought of sharing with someone else besides you about his vision of the world and the place he had in it made him feel like he was inside paradise.

A personal goal to make this world much happier, and safer, and fairer.

His baby’s world.

“I love you,” he said, kissing your whole face with delicate kisses that poured out everything words could never express. His devotion. His love. Everything. “I will never be able to pay you back for this…this miracle.”

“I don’t want you to pay me back,” you said, hands resting over his quickly-beating heart. “I love you, too. And your love for both of us is more than enough.”

He smiled widely, showing you that grin you adored so much, that made you melt and wish you could, too, give him the whole world.

“How lucky I am,” he hummed, settling you against his chest. “To have my whole universe safely resting in my arms.”

[bwat5-blog]

Vi's Ending

**Spoilers for all of Arcane**

I have written about and discussed Vi in significant detail. However it was pointed out to me recently that her ending is worth its own detailed discussion and I completely agree. For those who have been sticking with me on these, you already know Vi is my favorite character. She means a lot to me, as she does to many of you for various reasons. So before we dive in let me say this:

Vi is NOT the Jinx

Vi is NOT a bad sister

Vi did NOT get Jinx killed

I have written in great detail defending and explaining each of these points, and because of that I will not detail those here. But if you are interested I'd love for you to check out my other posts and share your thoughts! Ultimately I am just another fan, and I am really enjoying celebrating the achievement in story telling this show has become, and its legendary characters.

The End:

At the end of this story, we find Violet, sitting alone, drinking, humming powder's song from the very first moments of the show. She appears deeply in thought and is curled up on herself, only opening up when her beloved Caitlyn joins her. They share a tender moment where Caitlyn asks her if she is still in this fight, to which Vi responds "I am the dirt under your nails cupcake, nothings gonna clean me out" and lays her head on Caitlyn's shoulder allowing herself to relax as Caitlyn smiles softly looking into the fire. This seems to be our last look at the couple outside of the game if Riot is to be believed (money talks people, keep these characters popular and they may listen!), and it has understandably sparked reactions across the board. For myself, I found it bittersweet. Beautiful and hopeful in many ways, but recognizing the weight of what they have survived, and validating the healing they still need. I view it as Vi finally being on the road to peace, just not quite there yet.

The Heart of Zaun:

I have extensively detailed who Vi is in other posts and therefore will spare you the diatribe here. But to properly appreciate and understand why her ending was so meaningful we do have to understand who she is.

"You've got a good heart. Don't ever lose it, no matter how the world tries to break you"- Vander

Vi is not perfect. She impatient, quick to anger, stubborn beyond belief and impulsive. But these are things born of the dark and angry world she has been forced to survive in all her life. At her core, who is she really?

A Daughter

A Sister

A Warrior

A Guardian

What Vi proves time and time again throughout this story is that she is fiercely loyal, loving, and true. She is tough as nails and brave sure. But we also get these beautiful moments of fragility. Moments where her love, her fear and her hope bleed through the mask she keeps up showing us who she is beneath. Other lessons from Vander plays a major role in who she becomes as well:

"When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish"

"Who are you willing to lose?"

-- Vander

Vi was already trying to care for the kids around her, and had at a young age been through so much trauma and loss. But as any teenager would, she still displayed a lack of understanding about the potential broader consequences of their actions. After her talks with Vander, almost every decision she makes she is trying to protect those she loves, or trying to atone when she feels she has fallen short. Her own happiness becomes her last priority in almost every situation. And her journey to overcome this, to learn that its okay for her to know tenderness, and peace, and love and that those things don't make her unworthy. This is Vi's inner journey.

She deserves the things she fights so hard to give the people she loves. I meant to re-blog it and hope I did, but another user pointed out something I have never considered. When she and Vander are talking on the bridge, and he gives here these lessons, what does she say is the reason she wants to fight? - that she grew up knowing she was less than, but she wants more for her little sister and will bleed to do it. Even at that young age, before experiencing so much of the pain she goes through, she doesn't see herself as deserving of that same defense as everyone else in her life... She believes is meant to be the shield, and never the shielded.. An inspiring and heroic notion on paper, heartbreaking to recognize in a teenage girl who is only just beginning in life.

Back To The End:

Okay, with that refresher lets return to Vi's ending. We see this beautiful, tender moment between Vi and the woman she loves. And sure, on the surface of the moment alone it appears your standard happy ending. Safe, warm, and in the company of the woman she loves. These are all undoubtedly good things. But context matters. No decision in this show, no plot point, no animation, no detail is accidental. So we need to account for the following factors:

They have just survived a truly terrifying battle which no matter the result in terms of life and death ,would be deeply traumatizing

She and the woman she loves have made it through together its true (thank god). On a purely physical level, Caitlyn's heroic willingness to sacrifice a part of her own body to achieve victory has left her forever changed. And Vi's body has become a tapestry of scars from a life time of sacrifice and struggle

Caitlyn and Vi's reconciliation is a controversial topic in the fandom. I feel that it was justified in terms of us being given the necessary pieces to believe it, but rushed (the whole season was). Like if I asked a student to show me his work on a math equation, he got the correct answer, but he could only show me the beginning of each step he took to solve it. Correct, but incomplete. All of that to say this, their scene in the jail cell was beautiful, and it was full of meaning far more than the spicy quality (although god damn who are we kidding), but we are talking about months of time apart, with both of them living through an extremely dark period, all precipitated by an extremely traumatic "breakup". I don't think it's unreasonable to assume they have more to work through and heal from regarding this issue, although thankfully their love for each other remains strong.

The death toll of this battle is seemingly enormous although we are not given an exact number. The impact of this is obvious. And although I agree his character was not perfectly utilized, I saw Loris as the face of the countless faceless citizens of Piltover and Zaun who died in this conflict. His death right in front of Vi happening so quickly, and brutally.

Vander.. Vi had to watch her adopted father die not once, not twice, but three times. The first time after saving her life, the second time after they seemed so close to saving his, and the third time with him very nearly killing her. I'm not a mental health professional but I don't think I need to be in order to suggest this may leave lasting emotional and mental scars on her

Jinx. Vi's crusade for her sister's soul begins the moment she steps out of Stillwater with Caitlyn. The relationship between Vi and Jinx is far too complex and detailed to cover in a bullet point like this, and is one of the pillars upon which this show came to be. I'm not getting into fault or blame or any of that right now, because what it comes down to is this. Vi loves Jinx and fought so.. so hard to BE her sister again. And finally, right at the end when it seems like they are finally going to be okay, she loses Jinx. again (not dead but Vi doesn't know that). And why? because Vi breaks at the sight at the sight of Vander's body and Jinx sacrifices herself to save her. Vi's breakdown is heartbreaking. It its understandable, its realistic, its painful and its human.. But after a life time punishing herself for how she feels she failed her sister.. it hurts to admit the truth that as things stand now, Vi will probably carry the guilt of Jinx's death for the rest of her life.

I know that is all so bleak, and so heavy. And it hurts because you want to see Vi happy. We want to see her and Jinx living as sisters catching up on the time that was stolen from them. We want to see a world where she and Caitlyn are energetic and happy and healed. We want to see Vi in some way acknowledge that in the end, Jinx's sacrifice was not because Vi failed her. It was because Jinx saw that her sister who had always loved and believed in her, needed her this time. That the woman who had always stood for those she loved needed someone to stand for her. So Jinx became the shield Vi never believed she deserved.

That Vi is a bad-ass is never in dispute. We see her fight countless times in defense of those she loves, and do so quite well. Her journey is not to find her strength. It is to recognize that she is worth more than that. She deserves more. And our hope for her is born of the changes we see. As her relationship with Caitlyn evolves, and she sees her belief in her sister finally validated, She comes to understand she has more to offer than the strength of her arms.

Her relationship with Caitlyn: Their love story is so amazing, and complex, and layered. It is far too much to cover as a bullet point in another post like this and I do intend to deep-dive it soon. But in terms of this discussion, I want to stay this. That Vi and Caitlyn have their ups and downs is obvious. Its not that every moment of their time together is an unending parade of joy and romance, that would be not only bad story telling but not realistic. But the best romantic partners are those people who can fall into the flames together and walk out not untouched, but re-forged into something stronger. These two women are a great example of this. There are many important moments in their relationship that greatly effect Vi, but I am going to focus on just one:

Caitlyn Finds Vi in Jinx's Cell:

As I mentioned previously, this scene is so important for so many reasons. For our purposes, we need to remember what leads up to it. Vi immediately goes to rescue Jinx after confronting Caitlyn over her imprisonment, only for Jinx to stun her and leave her in the cell herself (there is so much context and meaning here in terms of Jinx and Vi/Jinx but we are focusing on Caitlyn right now). Then Caitlyn finds her. Alone. In the cell of the woman who killed her mother. Now there are a lot of ways this could go and Vi is clearly expecting the worst. She laments that she always chooses wrong trusting and believing in Jinx, and that this time its cost her everything. Her sister is gone. She assumes Caitlyn will be enraged, and not to mention she is in this incredibly vulnerable state, in a jail cell, after surviving seven years of false imprisonment that started when she was still in her teens. But it doesn't go how she expects.

"Sorry to say, you've grown a bit predictable"

Vi believes that this part of her, this emotional, trusting, vulnerable part of her is always wrong. But Caitlyn reveals just how much she knows that part of Vi. And not only knows, but accepts it, predicted it, and even stepped in to help the woman she loves, putting aside her own hate and bitterness. Its a powerful moment. It shows Vi just how much she is worth to Caitlyn, and it has nothing to do with her fists. Just her heart. And Vi's response to this revelation shows us maybe the first time in the entire story, where given this tiny seed of evidence that she may deserve to be happy, she chooses to let herself be. Right there in that cell with Caitlyn.

Her Relationship With Jinx:

Like Caitlyn, this relationship could only be explored properly through it's own deep dive. So again, I am going to focus on a single moment between these two as evidence of Vi hard earned affirmation of her refusal to quit on those she loves. When Vi goes to break Jinx out of jail, Jinx stuns her and escapes instead, leaving her locked inside. As Vi panics for her sister, Jinx walks away, pleading with Vi to let herself be happy, and to stop looking for her. This of course leads to the incident we just mentioned in which Vi claims she always chooses wrong in trusting her sister. "I really thought she'd help" Vi says to Caitlyn about her sister when Cait arrives. And how does her belief in her sister shake out? Jinx rides in on a war balloon at the head of an under city army, and saves the day... and then later on, saves Vi's very life at what seems to be (We know better) the expense of her own. Vi was right about her sister all along.. its just that some lessons are hard won indeed..

Conclusion:

Vi is an amazing character who has quite frankly, earned her rest. And that's what the end of the show is sharing with us. Vi is warrior. She has fought, and bled, and lost so much, but she has endured. Through her two most important relationships in her life she has found the road to the recovery from the many, many wounds her existence has left on her, and they are still wounds that need healing. There is grief, and pain, and guilt still dwelling in her. But we have seen the seeds of her self-worth beginning to bloom and it is in them that we place our hope for Vi. Because she has an inkling that what Vander told her, the same thing the woman she loves noticed within hours of of meeting her, and the same reason Jinx knew Vi would never give up on her, has always been a far greater power than her ability to do violence.

[mononijikayu]

marutsuke — gojo satoru.

You smiled back, though it was small and fleeting. "You could start now, you know." Satoru let out a soft laugh, the sound almost bitter, but there was a hint of something lighter underneath it. He took another sip of his drink, shaking his head slightly. "You’re asking a lot of me right now, Gen–senpai. You know that?" "I’m just asking you to be human, Gojo–kun." you replied softly. “Just be yourself.”

WARNING/S: post-hidden inventory (2006-onwards), domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORDS: 5.3k words.

NOTE: i wrote this a long long while ago and to celebrate jjk ending, i would like to give this as a humble offering. i've been a fan of jjk since 2019, when my friend introduced it to me. jjk means the world to me. it was there for me as much as bts was in my harsh and painful years. i am most grateful to share and continue to share the joy of it here in my little corner of the world. thank you guys for sharing the love of jjk with me. you guys are amazing. i love you guys so much. let's continue to be fans together for a long time!!! also the song is from given. its a lovely song <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

YOU HATED THIS FEELING, YOU HATED REPETITION LIKE THIS. You stood in the dimly lit hallway, fists clenched, your eyes burning with fury as you learned what had happened to the first years. The mission had gone horribly wrong, and Haibara—kind, hopeful Haibara—was dead. Nanami barely made it back. You trembled with rage, unable to process the incompetence that had led to this.

It was just like this when it was Namie.

Your mind flashed back to the past, to the same helplessness, the same sickening weight that had crushed your chest when Namie, your dear friend, had been sent out on a mission with faulty intelligence. They hadn’t even gotten her body back. You remembered the emptiness, the cold fury that took root inside you ever since.

And then there was Amanai Riko. Another loss, another innocent life extinguished because of their arrogance, their reckless disregard for the lives they swore to protect. Your nails bit into your palms as you fought back the wave of grief and anger.

And now... now Haibara.

Another young life, snuffed out before it could even truly begin. Your breath came in short, ragged bursts as the memories collided with the present, your fury building to a boiling point. You had warned them. You had fought, had demanded better, and yet nothing had changed.

"How many more?" you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling with fury. "How many more have to die before they open their eyes?"

"They had faulty intelligence," you spat, your voice laced with venom. "Faulty intelligence, and they sent them in blind. Blind!"

Your words echoed down the empty corridor, but it wasn’t enough to release the fury simmering inside you. You stormed forward, your footsteps heavy with the weight of your anger, the hallway dim and suffocating as you advanced. The rage that coursed through your veins was more than just anger—it was righteous fury, the kind that demanded answers, demanded justice for those who had fallen.

You didn’t care about decorum or procedure. Not now. Not when another life had been so carelessly thrown away.

The sight of the mission manager at the end of the hall, sitting casually at his desk, only fueled the fire inside you. He looked up, his expression one of mild surprise as you approached—indifferent, as if the death of a student was nothing more than an inconvenience, a casualty of duty.

Indifference. That look—the one that dismissed Haibara as just another statistic, another name on a growing list of losses. It ignited something in you that was barely contained.

"You!" you hissed, your voice trembling with the intensity of your rage. The air around you seemed to crackle with tension as you marched up to the manager’s desk, eyes blazing. "You sent them in blind! Faulty intelligence, and you signed off on it like it didn’t matter! Haibara is dead because of you!"

The manager blinked, clearly taken aback by your outburst, but his calm exterior didn’t waver. He leaned back in his chair, hands folded calmly in his lap, as if he was used to this—used to the accusations, used to the aftermath. He probably expected you to eventually calm down, to accept that this was just the way things were.

But you weren’t going to calm down. Not this time.

“You think this is acceptable?" you seethed, leaning over his desk. "You think sending kids in with faulty information is just part of the job? You didn’t care about what would happen to them—you cared about following protocol, making sure you checked off the boxes so you could wipe your hands clean when it went wrong."

The manager gave a slight sigh, adjusting his glasses as if the whole situation was an inconvenience. "These missions come with risks, you know that. It’s unfortunate, but we—"

"Unfortunate?" your voice rose, fury spilling over. "You think this is just 'unfortunate'? Haibara’s dead because of your incompetence, and all you can say is that it’s unfortunate?"

The manager’s lips thinned, his calm demeanor wavering for just a moment. "We did the best we could with the information we had. It’s not always perfect—"

You slammed your hands down on the desk, silencing him immediately. Your face was inches from his now, your voice low and lethal. "No. You didn’t do the best you could. You cut corners, and you sent them in knowing it wasn’t safe. You sat behind this desk while they went out there, while they—" Your voice caught for a moment, thinking of Haibara, of Namie, of Riko. "You have no idea what it’s like to lose someone because of your arrogance."

The manager didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. His silence was answer enough.

Your fists clenched again, your whole body trembling with the effort to contain your rage. You wanted to scream, to tear this entire building apart, but all you could do was stare at the man who had signed Haibara’s death warrant with his negligence. The worst part was you knew it would happen again. As long as people like him kept making decisions, more lives would be lost.

“That’s enough.” That familiar voice. You stopped.

“You piece of shit!” you snarled, your energy crackling dangerously. You lunged, but before you could strike, Yaga intervened, gripping your arms to hold you back.

You whipped around, your rage now directed at Yaga. “You! I warned you. I fucking warned you! But you listened to those old farts, didn’t you? You think it’s okay to send them in, even blindly.” Your voice cracked with fury, your eyes burning into Yaga’s. “And now, you’re stuck having to explain to Haibara’s parents why their son isn’t alive! That blood is on your hands!”

Yaga’s grip remained firm, but his expression darkened as you pressed on.

“My father would be ashamed of you,” you said, your voice low, bitter. “You’ve become exactly what he stood against.”

Yaga’s eyes hardened at your words, but he didn’t let go. He knew your anger wasn’t just at him—it was at the system, at the higher-ups, at the entire broken system that cost Haibara his life. But your words cut deep. Mentioning your father, a man Yaga once respected, felt like a blade twisted into his gut.

"Genmei," Yaga said, his voice steady but tense, "I didn't want this. You think I don’t care? You think I don’t feel the weight of it? I never wanted to send them in like that."

"Then why did you?" you snapped, stepping closer, your face inches from his, rage seething in every word. "You could’ve stopped it. You had the authority! Instead, you caved to those senile cowards who sit behind desks, making decisions they’ll never face the consequences of."

Yaga's jaw clenched, his voice growing colder. "You think I had a choice? You think I didn’t fight back? The orders came from the top, Genmei! From people I can’t defy."

You shook your head, trembling with disbelief. "So that’s it? You just roll over and let it happen? You tell them it’s fine to send kids like Haibara to their deaths? You and those spineless managers let them go out there—for nothing."

Yaga's grip on your arms tightened slightly, but his voice remained calm. "I know you’re angry. I know this isn’t fair. But it wasn’t blind. They were prepared."

“Prepared?!” Your laughter was bitter and sharp. “You call this prepared? Haibara is dead! Nanami is broken. And now you have to look those parents in the eye and tell them their son is never coming home."

Yaga’s silence spoke louder than anything. The weight of what you said settled in, his posture stiffening with the responsibility he bore. He hadn’t spoken to Haibara’s parents yet, but he would have to. And the thought of it, the unbearable weight of it, gnawed at him.

"Every single student is my responsibility, you know that." Yaga finally said, his voice quieter now, though no less strained. "I carry that burden every day. You think I don’t feel it? That it doesn’t tear me apart? But I don’t have the luxury of rage. I have to keep moving, keep fighting—for the ones who are still here."

Your hands fell to your sides, anger simmering down to a bitter ache. You looked at Yaga, your voice softer but no less furious. "They trusted you. We trusted you. And now we’re left with nothing but grief. Don’t you dare try to justify this."

Yaga looked away, his jaw clenched. "I’m not trying to justify it. There’s no justification for it. But you think I haven’t warned them, too? We both know how they operate. But my hands—"

"Don’t tell me about your hands being tied." you interrupted, your voice sharp. "You had more than just orders. You had a choice. And Haibara Yu’s blood is on all of us for not stopping it. And I'm sure....too sure. That there will be many more. All because you can't fight against those old farts."

Silence hung between you, heavy and suffocating. Yaga’s grip on your arms loosened, his expression still hardened by guilt and responsibility. He knew it too well, he knew that it was also his fault. And perhaps, in truth, you didn't blame him that much. You knew there was nothing a teacher can do against the whole of Jujutsu society. But you can't help but be angry. Just like at your father's funeral. And that too, Yaga blames himself.

“I’m going to make them pay for this.” you said in a low, deadly voice, your anger no longer explosive but cold and resolute. “The ones responsible, the ones who allowed this to happen—they’ll know exactly what they’ve one.”

Yaga met your eyes, his voice quiet but firm. "Don’t let your anger consume you. Your father would say the same thing. This world is already full of enough darkness."

Your expression didn’t change, unfazed. "Maybe it needs a little more darkness before it can see the light. My father also knew about that."

YOU WANTED TO HAVE A SMOKE. But you were sure that the sprinklers would alert people. So you went against it. You stormed out of the manager’s office, your fury barely contained as you made your way down the empty corridor.

The cold, sterile walls felt suffocating, your mind clouded with the weight of it all—Haibara’s death, Nanami’s devastation, the recklessness of the higher-ups. You needed to see him, to confront the harsh reality of what their negligence had wrought.

The morgue was dimly lit, its stillness heavy with the presence of death. You moved quietly, but your footsteps faltered as you approached. Standing just outside, you heard voices—low, tense. You stopped.

"Why not let Gojo take care of everything?" a bitter voice sneered. It was Nanami Kento.

Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized that tone. Nanami’s words were sharp, laced with exhaustion and frustration, and just as the retort began to form on your lips, another voice cut through—calm, but strained.

"Nanami, that’s enough," Geto Suguru’s voice was tired, a weariness that weighed down each syllable. "This isn’t about Satoru. Don’t take your anger out on him just because you feel helpless. We all do."

Helpless.

The word hit you like a punch to the gut. Your body froze as Nanami’s bitter words echoed in your ears, triggering a flood of memories you had buried deep. You could still see the way Kaiko had looked at you after Namie’s death, the sharp, accusatory words that came spilling out, venomous and cruel.

"Why not let Genmei take care of everything, huh? She’s always so sure of herself, isn’t she?" Kamo Kaiko had sneered, the pain of loss warping into something uglier, something that wanted to hurt others. The same helplessness Nanami was drowning in now.

You had seen the look in Kaiko’s eyes—the same bitterness, the same exhaustion, the same desperation to place the blame somewhere, anywhere, other than the black void of grief you were all struggling to survive. And you had tried to calm Kaiko down, tried to reason with her, but the pain had been too raw, too fresh. It had escalated. Words had become fists, and by the time it was over, you were both broken in different ways. You never spoke again after that fight.

Now, hearing Nanami’s voice, the echoes of Kaiko’s bitterness in every word, your heart clenched. You couldn’t let this spiral the same way.

You stepped forward, your presence quiet but commanding. The shadows shifted as you moved, your eyes falling on Nanami, who stood rigid, his face a mask of exhaustion and grief. Geto Suguru leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his own weariness mirrored in his posture. He looked over Haibara’s body, as though he was in a trance. He was shell–shocked, you think.

"That’s enough." you said, your voice calm but firm, the weight of your past mixing with the present. You couldn’t watch this play out the same way it had before. "This isn’t about blame. None of this is about whose responsibility it is to fix things."

Nanami flinched slightly at the sound of your voice, his jaw tightening as he avoided your gaze. But you knew what he was feeling because you had been there. You had stood in his shoes, grappling with the same rage, the same helplessness, when you lost Namie.

"It’s not Gojo–kun’s fault, you know that." you continued, stepping closer, your voice softer now. "And it’s not yours. Haibara’s death wasn’t something you could have prevented. Not under these circumstances."

Nanami's fists clenched at his sides, the tension in his body radiating outwards. "I could have, senpai." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I should have."

"No." you said firmly, your voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "This wasn’t on you. Don’t let the guilt consume you, Nanami. I’ve seen it before, and I know where it leads."

The memories of Kaiko haunted you, the way grief had hollowed her out, leaving her with nothing but resentment and bitterness. You couldn’t let that happen to Nanami. Not again. This doesn’t have to continue. No one else has to suffer.

"Listen to Geto–kun, okay?" you added, your gaze softening as you looked at him. "We all feel helpless. But turning against each other won’t bring Haibara back."

Nanami’s shoulders slumped slightly, the tension in his body giving way to something closer to defeat. He didn’t respond, but you knew your words had reached him. Turning away from them, you took a breath and steel yourself. You still had one last thing to do, no matter how much it hurt.

You had to say goodbye to Haibara.

You walked out of the room, the heaviness of the conversation weighing on your shoulders. You pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, your emotions a turbulent storm beneath the surface. Your eyes immediately caught sight of Satoru, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed.

You knew, just by the way he stood, that he had heard everything. There was no need for words. His expression wasn’t the usual carefree mask he wore—it was more serious, though his eyes were still bright behind his dark shades, silently watching you.

You sighed, your frustration and exhaustion bubbling up. Without a word, you stepped closer to him and gently placed your hands over his ears, your palms lightly cupping the sides of his head. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and his eyes widened, blinking in surprise. He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to understand what you were doing.

Don’t listen, you mouthed, your lips forming the words slowly and deliberately, knowing he would understand.

For a moment, Satoru just stared at you, his gaze flickering between confusion and something softer, almost curious. His lips pressed into a flat line, and after a heartbeat of silence, he nodded, an unspoken agreement passing between you.

He wasn’t going to argue. Not this time.

You let your hands fall from his ears, giving him a weary look. There was nothing more to say. You both knew the weight of everything that had happened, and for once, Satoru didn’t push. He just stood there, understanding what you couldn’t put into words. The hallway stretched ahead of you, quiet and still, but the heaviness lingered in the air.

You let your hands fall from Satoru's ears, giving him a weary look. There was nothing more to say. You both knew the weight of everything that had happened, and for once, Satoru didn’t push. He just stood there, understanding what you couldn’t put into words. The hallway stretched ahead, quiet and still, but the heaviness lingered in the air.

The two of you wandered outside in silence, the weight of recent events hanging heavily between you. The cold night air bit at your skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the emotions you both carried. You led the way toward the vending machines just outside the building, the quiet hum of them the only sound in the stillness.

You didn’t need to look at Satoru to know he was thinking about everything that had happened. It was rare for him to be this quiet, this subdued. You pressed the buttons on the machine without a word, watching the drinks tumble down with a soft thud. You handed one to him, the cold condensation clinging to your fingers as you took your own.

Satoru cracked open the can, the fizz breaking the silence between you. You took a slow sip of your drink before finally speaking.

“It’s not your fault, you know.” you said quietly, your voice steady but carrying the weight of someone who had seen this all before. "You can’t blame yourself for what happened."

Satoru didn’t respond right away. He took a long drink, his gaze fixed on the horizon, the usual brightness in his eyes dimmed by something heavier, more complex. He leaned against the vending machine, one hand loosely holding the can, the other shoved in his pocket. His shades were off now, dangling from his collar.

“I think it is, Genmei–senpai.” he finally said, his voice low, almost resigned. His gaze drifted down to the ground. “If I were just a little stronger, a little faster... if I had trained them better, maybe… maybe they wouldn’t be dead.”

Your chest tightened. You had heard these words before, a thousand times in different voices. From yourself, from others who had lost people they cared about. It was the familiar cycle of grief and guilt. Gojo Satoru doesn’t easily fuss over his feelings. This was the first time truly, you think, that he’d willingly told you what he felt. Without you having to ask. In a way, you think that has reminded you of yourself, even for a little bit.

"You can't control everything, Gojo–kun." you replied softly, stepping beside him. "Not even you. It wasn’t your decision to send them on that mission. You weren’t the one who messed up the intel. And you’re not the one who could have stopped it from going wrong."

He clenched his jaw, clearly wrestling with the weight of his own thoughts. Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer alive, the one who always acted like nothing could touch him—was grappling with the very human feeling of failure. It was a rare sight, one that he kept hidden behind his usual bravado. But here, in the quiet, there was no mask to hide behind.

"Being strong doesn’t mean being able to protect everyone. That’s impossible." you added, your voice quiet but firm. "Trust me, I know. We all do."

Satoru stared at his drink, the carbonation slowly rising to the surface. He let out a long breath, his fingers tightening around the can as if holding on to something he couldn’t quite grasp.

"I don’t know if I can ever believe that, you know?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "If I’m not strong enough to protect them, then what’s the point of being the strongest?"

You didn’t answer right away. You let his words hang in the air, knowing that there was no simple reply that could ease his burden. The truth was, you understood. You had felt the same way when your precious Namie died, when Amanai Riko  was killed. The strength to protect felt meaningless when it failed you.

But you also knew that blaming yourself for every loss would only eat away at you, piece by piece. And you knew better than to wallow in it all. You wouldn’t be able to get up from your bed if it's all that consumes you. You didn’t want your dreams. You wanted to be awake. In your dreams, it was regret. In your reality, it was moving forward. And you’d choose a thousand cigarettes then see Namie’s eyes look at you like that again. You’d choose days awake rather than seeing Kaiko take her last breaths right in front of you again.

"The point, Gojo–kun," you finally said, your voice softer now, "is that you’re human. No matter how strong you are, no matter what kind of power you have, you’re still human, Gojo–kun. And that means sometimes... you’ll fail. It doesn’t make you any less strong. It just makes you... you."

He looked at you then, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his bright cerulean eyes—an acknowledgment, maybe. He didn’t argue, didn’t dismiss your words like he normally would. Instead, he just took another sip of his drink and nodded slightly.

“Maybe……” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

You stood there in the quiet, the weight of your conversation lingering in the cold night air. For once, there were no easy answers, no quick fixes. Just two people, sharing a drink, carrying the same burden of loss.

You tilted your head back slightly, looking up at the night sky. The stars were faint tonight, dimmed by the city lights, much like how everything felt dulled in the aftermath of grief. You took another sip from your drink, letting the cool liquid ground you in the present, away from the spiraling thoughts of what could have been.

After a long silence, you spoke again, your tone quieter, almost contemplative. "You know, you don’t always have to carry everything by yourself, Gojo–kun."

He glanced at you, but didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still clouded with that familiar weight.

"I know you feel like it’s all on you, Gojo–kun." you continued, turning your gaze to him. "Like you're responsible for every life, every outcome. But you're not. And it’s okay to feel... this way. To feel like you’ve failed. But that doesn’t mean you have."

Satoru stared at the ground, the quiet stretching on for a few heartbeats. Then, without looking at you, he spoke, his voice softer than before. “You say that like you don’t carry it, too.”

Your grip on the can tightened slightly. You felt the truth of his words settle uncomfortably in your chest. You did carry it—always had. The weight of those you couldn’t save, the memories of missions gone wrong, the faces of the dead. You carried them all, and sometimes it felt like too much. But that wasn’t something you would admit to easily.

"You’re right. Your senpai’s a hypocrite." you said after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. A weary smile on your lips. "I do, don’t I? But I’m learning how to let some of it go. To not let it destroy me…..I have to learn, as you do.”

Satoru finally looked at you, his gaze searching, as if he was trying to understand something he couldn’t quite grasp. There was a vulnerability in his expression, one that he rarely let show. You know that you knew the answer. And so does he. But it was easy to ignore, when you’re given the world to carry.

"How?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

You looked away, your eyes drifting back up to the sky. "By realizing that it’s not all on me. That I’m not the only one who’s hurting. And by letting people in, even when I don’t want to. It’s not easy, and I’m still figuring it out... but I’m trying."

Satoru was silent, processing your words. You knew how hard it was for him to let people in, to show any weakness. He had built walls so high that even those closest to him struggled to see through them. But here, in this quiet moment, you could feel those walls cracking, if only just a little.

“I guess I’ll have to try that sometime.” he muttered, his lips curling into a faint, tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You smiled back, though it was small and fleeting. "You could start now, you know."

Satoru let out a soft laugh, the sound almost bitter, but there was a hint of something lighter underneath it. He took another sip of his drink, shaking his head slightly. "You’re asking a lot of me right now, Gen–senpai. You know that?"

"I’m just asking you to be human, Gojo–kun." you replied softly. “Just be yourself.”

The silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as before. It was the kind of quiet that settled between people who understood each other, who didn’t need to fill the space with empty words.

After a while, Gojo Satoru straightened up, his usual mask of nonchalance slipping back into place. But something had changed, even if just a little. He glanced at you, a glimmer of his old self returning to his eyes.

"Alright." he said, pushing off from the vending machine. "I’ll try not to carry everything on my back... but don’t expect me to go soft, okay? Can’t have everyone thinking I’m losing my touch."

You rolled your eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at your lips. "Wouldn’t dream of it, Gojo–kun."

He chuckled, tossing his empty can into the recycling bin with a casual flick of his wrist. “Good. Now, how about we get out of here? There’s only so much doom and gloom a guy can take. I wanna go and eat some burgers! Oh, oh and have a milkshake. Come on Gen-senpai! Don't be such a slow poke!”

You watched as he started walking away, his usual swagger returning to his step. Despite everything, despite the grief and the guilt, he was still Satoru Gojo. And that, in its own way, was comforting. You lingered for a moment, finishing off your drink before following him. The weight of the night hadn’t disappeared, but somehow, it felt a little easier to bear now.

epilogue

The afternoon sun bathed the park in a warm, golden glow, casting everything in a soft light that made the moment feel almost timeless. It was a day without expectations or duties—a rare occasion for you and Satoru, a time when neither of you needed to be the strongest sorcerers alive. Instead, you were just yourselves, surrounded by the warmth of your little family.

You sat on a bench under the shade of a sprawling tree, the leaves swaying gently in the breeze. From your seat, you watched Tsumiki and Megumi, their carefree laughter ringing out as they chased each other across the grass.

Fushiguro Megumi’s small smile hinted at how much he enjoyed these quiet moments with his sister, even though he pretended to let her win. His protectiveness over Tsumiki was subtle but undeniable, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched their innocent game unfold.

Beside you, Satoru was sprawled out lazily on the bench, his sunglasses resting atop his head, soaking in the warmth of the sun. Satoshi, your energetic bundle of joy, was clinging to his father’s arm, trying to climb him like he was a human jungle gym. The sight of Satoru—so relaxed and utterly at ease—was a rare one, a moment where he let down his guard completely.

“Baby!” Satoru said, glancing over at you with a mischievous grin. “I think our son’s trying to take me down. Think he’s got the makings of a future jujutsu sorcerer?”

You chuckled, brushing a few strands of Satoshi’s hair out of his eyes. “Maybe he’s just training to be strong like you, don’t you think?” you teased, giving Satoru a playful look. “You’ll have to watch out—he might surpass you one day.”

Satoru sat up dramatically, hoisting Satoshi into his lap. “Surpass me? Oh no, not on my watch!” He declared, tickling your son until Satoshi was giggling uncontrollably. “Satoshi, my little dawn, promise me you won’t steal my title as the strongest!”

Gojo Satoshi, between fits of laughter, batted at his father’s chest. “Papa! No tickle!”

The sound of your son’s pure joy, Satoru’s playful antics, and the peace of this moment filled your heart. For once, there was no looming threat, no mission pulling you away. It was just the simple beauty of a family enjoying a sunny day.

Megumi, a little winded from chasing his sister, wandered over with his usual stoic expression, though you could see the faintest trace of a smile. You couldn’t resist teasing him. “Are you done showing off?”

Megumi shrugged, his tone as nonchalant as ever. “I wasn’t showing off. Tsumiki just needed to win.”

Satoru reached out and ruffled Megumi’s hair affectionately. “Such a gentleman. You’re really going soft on your sister, huh?”

Though Megumi swatted Satoru’s hand away, his eyes softened. “......She deserves it” he mumbled, trying to keep his fondness for Tsumiki hidden.

Tsumiki, noticing the conversation, ran over, her cheeks flushed from the chase. She flopped down onto the grass beside Megumi, leaning against him with a contented sigh. The two siblings sat close together, exchanging quiet smiles. You could see how much they meant to each other—the bond that had formed between them was one of the most precious things in your life.

Satoru stretched out his legs, balancing Satoshi on his knee. “You know, I think this is nice.” he said, his tone suddenly thoughtful. “We should do this more often.”

You turned to look at him, curious. “Do what? Actually relax?”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah. I like this better—just us. Just our little family, you know? No titles, no missions. Just being.”

There was something so genuine in the way he said it. You leaned into him slightly, reaching for his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours. “I like this too, you know?” you said softly, squeezing his hand.

He smiles back at you with the most beautiful, warm gaze. He squeezes your hand back. “I know.”

Megumi and Tsumiki sat quietly, watching your interaction with curiosity but not interrupting. You could tell they were starting to understand the unspoken bond you and Satoru shared—the love that transcended the roles you played in the world.

Satoru let out a soft sigh, leaning back against the bench, tugging you closer. Satoshi, who had grown tired from all the excitement, settled comfortably in his father’s lap, his small hands gripping Satoru’s shirt. The park, bathed in the soft afternoon light, seemed to wrap you all in a blanket of calm.

“If you weren’t around to keep me sane…..” Satoru mused, glancing over at you. “I might’ve forgotten what a day off even feels like.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure you’d figure it out. You’ve always been good at pretending the world’s problems don’t exist.”

Satoru grinned, though there was a softness to his voice. “Maybe. But this…” He looked down at Satoshi, then over at Megumi and Tsumiki, who were now engrossed in their own conversation. “This is real. This is what matters.”

His words struck a chord in you. For so long, your lives had revolved around the constant threat of danger, the weight of responsibility. But here, at this moment, it was just the four of you—your makeshift family—enjoying a quiet afternoon in the park.

Leaning into Satoru’s warmth, you whispered, “Yeah, this is what it’s all about.”

The park’s hum continued around you: the distant laughter of children, the rustling leaves, and the occasional chirp of birds. But in your little bubble, time seemed to slow down. For a moment, there was no past, no future—just the present, where everything felt exactly as it should.

You rested your head on Satoru’s shoulder, Satoshi nestled between you both, and Megumi and Tsumiki chatting softly beside you. In this quiet, peaceful moment, you realized that despite the chaos of your lives, these simple, precious moments made all the struggles worth it.

And for now, that was more than enough.

[brainddeadd]

we haven’t talked much about baby devils family besides her mom… so maybe she’s an only child also why she’s love the boys so much because she has never had siblings and what if she lost her dad a few years ago to cancer and it’s not something she really talks about only person on the devils that knows is luke so maybe when it was the cancer game it was really important to her and everyone found out about her dad

The Cancer Game

warnings: parental death

ok so.. my dad died and this is how i'd want my friends to react and how some of them did react..

if you've lost someone close to you, i am so sorry for your loss

The New Jersey Devils locker room was filled with the usual celebration buzz. They’d just pulled off a big win, and everyone was riding high on the thrill of it, the energy bouncing off the walls as teammates shouted and laughed. Normally, Y/N would have been in the thick of it, cracking jokes and soaking up the post-game excitement with her team. But tonight, she’d been different. She’d put on a brave face, even cheered a little in the locker room, but her heart wasn’t in it. Only Luke noticed the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, the way she slipped out of the room as soon as she could without saying a word to anyone.

He’d seen her like this before, knew the kind of weight that could press down on her after certain games. The annual Cancer Awareness game, something that meant so much to the Devils organization and their fans, had an especially painful significance for her. A few years back, her dad had passed away after a long battle with cancer. It wasn’t something she talked about; she kept her emotions tucked away and rarely let them out, but this game always hit her hard. Luke was the only one who knew, and though she never said anything, he’d learned to recognize the signs.

The other guys hadn’t quite pieced it together yet, but they were noticing the change in her. Jack frowned as he watched her leave. “Did you guys see Y/N? She just left so quickly. I don’t think she even said goodbye.”

“Yeah, and she was barely talking all night,” Nico added, crossing his arms with a worried look. “She seemed…off. You think something’s wrong?”

Dawson, still buzzing from the win, looked back toward the door, his excitement dimming. “She didn’t even celebrate like usual. You think we should check on her?”

Luke glanced at them, a little torn. Y/N was private, and he didn’t want to betray her trust, but he also didn’t want her to be alone with this. With a slight nod, he said, “Yeah. I think we should.” He didn’t offer an explanation yet, but his face was serious, and the others picked up on it right away.

The group left together, the energy in the car shifting to something quieter and more solemn as they drove to Y/N’s place. They entered her apartment, hoping she’d be alright, but the scene they found tugged at their hearts.

Y/N was curled up on her couch, her face hidden in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Luke stepped forward first, his heart heavy as he saw his friend so vulnerable. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder before sitting next to her, pulling her into his side. She leaned into him, not saying anything, but letting him be there.

The others stood back, exchanging looks of uncertainty and sadness. They hadn’t seen her like this before and didn’t want to intrude, but they also couldn’t bear the idea of leaving her alone.

After a quiet moment, Jack finally spoke up. “Is…is she okay? What’s going on?” he asked softly, his voice filled with worry.

Luke took a breath, deciding to share what he knew in the hopes that they’d understand. “Her dad…he passed away from cancer a few years back. This game…this night…it’s a lot for her to handle. It brings back memories.”

There was a stunned silence as the reality of her pain sank in. Dawson looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for not realizing sooner. Nico’s expression softened, his eyes full of empathy as he took a step closer to her.

Jack’s face fell. He crouched down beside her, reaching out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. You should’ve said something. You don’t have to go through this by yourself.”

Nico nodded, his voice gentle. “We’re family, Y/N. Whatever you need, we’re here. Always.” His words were soft, filled with the warmth of someone who understood what it meant to be part of a team that cared deeply for each other beyond just hockey.

Dawson gave her a supportive smile, his voice as warm as he could make it. “Yeah, we’re here for you. If you ever need to talk or even just want someone around to keep you company, don’t hesitate. We’ve got your back.”

Y/N looked up through red, tear-streaked eyes, managing a small, appreciative smile as she took in the scene. There they were—her teammates, her friends, her family—standing around her with faces full of concern and love. She hadn’t planned to let them see her like this, hadn’t planned to share the part of herself that was still so raw and aching. But here they were, offering her every bit of their support, not backing away from her sadness.

Luke’s arm tightened around her shoulders as he whispered, “You’re not alone. I’m here. We’re all here.”

Y/N felt her heart swell as Jack, Nico, and Dawson each moved closer, surrounding her with a warmth and presence that filled the room. They didn’t try to fix her pain or rush her through it; they simply sat with her, letting her know that she didn’t have to bear this alone. The weight of her grief felt a little lighter with them there, their quiet strength helping to carry her forward, reminding her that no matter how heavy the burden, she would never have to shoulder it by herself again.

[simplyhughes]

You’re My Girl - WS2

Synopsis: Childhood crush confession typa beat?!??

Warnings: none, just fluff lol and shit writing

AN: so sorry this is literally trash… but i love my smitty 🥹!! ALSO REQUESTS ARE OPENNNN!!

I’ve known Will Smith since before we could even walk. Our fathers were best friends from college, a friendship that felt like it was meant to last. After years apart, they reconnected by chance in a small Michigan town, both of them with young families and memories of shared adventures. It wasn’t long before they picked up right where they’d left off, as if the years between had been nothing more than a short pause. Weekends, barbecues, and game nights became routine, and before long, our families practically blended into one.

Our mothers bonded just as effortlessly. By the time Will and I were born, just two months apart, it was already decided that we’d grow up together. Each family felt like an extension of the other. We celebrated every holiday together, and we even had Christmas stockings at each other’s homes, as if we were siblings rather than best friends.

From the start, Will and I were inseparable. When my mom worked, his mom watched us both, and vice versa. It felt natural to grow up side by side, learning and exploring together.

Now here we are in our first year of college. Will committed to Boston College while I stayed in Michigan. It was very hard adjusting to life without him. Yet out distance didn’t stop us from texting every day.

We are now on holiday break, both back at the Smiths’ residence. Will sat next to me on the plush couch in his basement, the TV flashing the bright colors of whatever video game he was obsessed with this month. In a comfy pair of sweatpants and a Boston College hoodie, his eyes darted all over the screen. We were only a few inches apart as I lay against the pillow, wrapped in a fluffy white blanket, mindlessly scrolling on Instagram reels.

The screen flashed with Will’s loss, and he tossed the controller onto the pillow beside him. I chuckled, looking up from my phone.

“You suck,” I laughed.

“Ain’t no way you’re talking,” he retorted, shifting his gaze from the screen onto me. I felt his eyes on me, so I looked up from my phone.

“Hey,” Will said softly.

“Hi,” I replied, matching his tone.

“You know, I miss you when I’m gone…” he admitted.

“I miss you too, Will. It’s not the same without you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I get some of that blanket?” He nudged the white fluff that was draped over me. I lifted up the end closest to him, signaling for him to come closer. His body weight shifted the couch, pulling both of us deeper into it. I felt my heartbeat quicken, thudding against my chest. Our faces were only a foot apart. Will flung his arm around the back of the couch behind my shoulders.

“Getting comfy, huh?” I finally spoke.

“I’m always comfy when I’m with you,” he replied.

“You talk to all your Boston chicks like that too?” I joked. Will tossed his head back and chuckled.

“Y/N, you’re the only girl I think about,” he muttered, a sly smirk forming across his face. The smirk didn’t match the nervous fidgeting of his fingers.

“Huh?” I questioned.

Will just kept looking at me and shrugged. He lowered his body, positioning himself so that his head rested comfortably on my shoulder. His hand clasped the remote, switching the HDMI off his game and onto Netflix. My hand somehow found its way into his blonde curls, scratching softly at his scalp.

“I could get used to this,” Will hummed. “I wish I could take you back to Boston with me.”

“But what would happen when you go to California?” I asked.

“I’d take you there too.”

“What’s with the separation anxiety?” I chuckled.

“I don’t know. You’re my girl, what can I say?”

My face flushed a deep pink. He probably didn’t mean it the way I hoped, but I couldn’t help but wonder. He tilted his head, looking up at me, his eyes wide.

“You hear me?” Will said.

“Y-yeah, I heard you.”

“I want you to be my girl, Y/N.”

“I am, Will. I have been for 18 years.”

“No, I mean, like, my… girlfriend.”

My hand cupped his cheek. For a moment, I couldn’t believe this was happening. And surely, I couldn’t believe what I did next. I mimicked my other hand, cupping his other cheek, and sealed the gap between us. I pressed a kiss against his lips, holding it for a second.

“William, I wish you’d told me this sooner.”

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Your Touch Builds a Bonfire - A John Shelby/Reader One Shot Story.

Just a bit of John smut for my lovelies on this cold Saturday night! Enjoy, darlings :)

Words - 1,810

Warnings - Spicy smut below the cut, minors DNI!

The way he twirls a pencil between his fingers, watching how the phalanges bend so effortlessly has you in a trance. How he makes a teacup look so small in his grasp. How the veins in the back of his hands bulge when he flexes a hand in his hair, usually when something has frustrated him to the point of anger.  

When he notices you watching, though, that fiery temper of his never fails to cool.  

He knows how much you desire him. He sees it, he’s been waiting for you to make a move, seeing how far he can go in pushing you with little instances of tease. He always finds some way to lightly touch you, whether emphasising a point, sweeping a stray few strands of hair behind your ear, or brushing fallen eyelashes from your cheek, he finds a way.  

You want his hands on you in much finer detail, though. It’s only because he’s your boss and you’re scared to lose your job that you haven’t acted upon it, just in case you’re wrong. It makes you tingle to the tips of your ears, imagining giving him the come on only for him to stare at you incredulously and state that you are mistaken over his intentions.  

Leaving your daydream behind, you turn your attention back to the typewriter ahead of you, the chaos of the bookmaker's offices soon beginning to swirl as the races kick off at various locations around the country. By the end of the day, the final race leaving the men cleared from the space to go and either celebrate or commiserate their wins or losses at the local boozer, you are still at your typewriter, John across the space at his desk, scribbling in the ledger.  

You see him exit his seat without a word, leaving the room, your fingers tapping the final letters upon the page you need his signature upon, pulling it from the typewriter and gently shaking it to dry the ink. Placing it down, you see an arm reach over your shoulder, a whiskey placed upon your desk.  

“Worked hard today, you did,” he speaks, nodding to the glass as you turn to look up at him. “I ain’t in the mood for the pub, but I am in the mood for a few drinks with my favourite.”  

He winks, and heat prickles your cheeks, busying yourself with picking up the drink and taking a big sip, attempting to bolster your confidence a little. It’s what you want, but oh! How the man makes you nervous!  

He’s too gorgeous for his own bloody good.  

“Well, since your other favourite was disappointing today, I can scarcely blame you.”  

He grins, chuckling into his glass. “Yeah, you’re much less trouble than a thoroughbred with the desire to throw his fucking jockey.” He shakes his head, sinking the rest of his drink. “Bloody animal.” He reaches for the bottle he brought with him, refilling his glass, topping yours off too. “You’re still trouble, though.”  

Your face mirrors the confusion his statement makes you feel. “I am?” 

“Oh ar, love. Definitely.”  

Your heart hammers with nervous excitement, taking a long sip of the whiskey before replying. “Why is that?”   

“Because short of diving on you, I dunno what the fuck else I’m meant to do to show you how much I want to take you to bed. If we even got that far. Believe me, I want you so badly, I’d settle for tearing off all your clothes and bouncing you on my cock while sitting in a chair down here.”  

Oh god. There they are, his intentions, delivered with every ounce of cocky confidence you should have known would leak out eventually after his tentative flirtations thus far. John Shelby can only be gentlemanly for so long, though.  

It’s time to cease the wallflower routine.  

Standing up, you don’t take your eyes off him for a long, long moment, the weight of your mutual stare enough to crack the floor below as you gesture to the seat you rose from. “I think we were the wrong way round for that to happen.”  

His mouth curls into a smirk, finishing his drink and placing the glass down, seating himself. You move to him, excitement whizzing through your tummy, gathering the soft material of your summer dress and beginning to hitch it up, John’s hands reaching for you, running up your bare legs as you manoeuvre astride him, sitting upon his thighs.  

The feeling of his hands, hands you have fantasised about for so long finally running over your skin, gripping your hips as he pulls you closer to him causes little darts of warmth to flicker through you, the heat of his hardening cock right against your apex making you tingle with want. His lips press kisses across your chest, hands moving to cup your breasts, tongue running over the half-moon of each soft orb escaping the top of your dress, his soft groan hungry, fingers moving to lower the zip.  

The fabric pools in his grasp as the dress falls from your shoulders, his lips placing ascending kisses to your neck before your mouths finally meet, an exchange of filthy, blazing, hungry need, your heart somersaulting in your chest. His mouth is so ravenous upon you, it knocks you sideways, the urgency of his desire for you, hands clasping at your back, removing your bra will easy skill, like he’s done it a hundred times before.  

He probably has.  

You feel in nothing short of a hundred percent capable, knowledgeable hands, his mouth moving to suck upon your nipple, your head tipping back as you grind yourself against his hard cock, his teeth prickling in bite upon the pebbled bud in response to that. “Fuck, these are some fucking beautiful tits.” His breath flutters hot against you, summer breezing through a spring chill, warming you to your bones, his tongue running slowly from between your breasts and back to your mouth.  

Unbuttoning his waistcoat, your hands slide beneath his braces, levering them from his shoulders, unknotting his tie and unbuttoning his crisp, white shirt, thirsting to feel the skin that lies beneath pressing against yours. His shirt flutters to the floor, his arms tightening around them as your touch tours lithe muscles encased in pale, golden freckled flesh. His hand trails down your body, reaching the cotton of your undies, the fabric dampened by your want for him.  

Pushing you back, he moves you to your feet, pupils blown with lust, gripping those soaking undies and tugging them down. Shuffling the chair forward, he lifts your leg over his shoulder, scattering kisses up your inner thigh, the anticipation making you pant, a soft gasp fluttering over your lips as his mouth meets your folds.  

A hot lick rolls through the wet of you, the light fleck of stubble adding in delicious contrast, his tongue seeking your clit and circling, flickering, evoking your wails, your hands going to his hair, nails flexing against the shaven sides of his head as you mewl in delight. Each lick has your blood running hot, sends glimmers through you, little shocks of pleasure tingling your entire core as your cries rend the air.  

He has you panting hard, each skim of his tongue over your tiny, potent little bundle making your hips rock against his mouth, his arms wound around you, one gripped to your waist, the other squeezing upon the rounded orb of your bum. His full lips close in suck around you, your legs shaking, the heat of it snapping over your bones, the pleasure biting and full-bodied, a bright burn of warmth making the coil within you tighten sharply.  

Flattening his tongue against you, he lets you get off on the wide drag of it, the tip caressing your dewy opening as your clit throbs against the press, his hand moving to begin undoing his trousers.  

“I could fucking eat your beautiful little cunt forever, darlin’, but god, I need you on my cock.” You’re so aroused, you can barely form thought as he pulls it out, and it’s thick and perfect, running it through the slick petals of your sex as you sit back astride him before feeding it into your gaping little hole, filling you with a rumbling grunt.  

White hot pleasure sizzles up your spine, ascending like a flurry of champagne bubbles, the taste of yourself upon his sensuous mouth more erotic than you could have ever imagined, moaning against his tongue as your rock back and forth upon him. The sensations of your walls being split so wide around him has bolts of pure bliss skittering through you, your tender little clit grinding against him as his hips buck up against you, pushing you back to devour your breasts with kisses, nibbles and licks.  

The way his hands tour you, stroking ever rise and curve of your body, it has you just as mindless as the delicious drag of his cock over every sweet spot within you, scraping sparks through your walls, his groans deep and rich as he paws at you with unrelenting hunger. The heat of it roars like a forest fire, the embers sizzling over your nerves as your mutual moans fill the space, bliss tumbling through you both. It’s fervid and delicious, scorching and unrelenting, everything you knew sex with John would be now playing out in an illumination of utter sin.  

His eyes are a bonfire of blue fire as he stares at you, fingers tangling in your hair, kissing you again with urgent need as his cock sends glimmers fizzing through you. It becomes even more uncontained, the power of him beneath you incredible, hands tightening upon your shoulders as he forces you down upon the rigidity of him, making you to take the brunt of every hard snap of his hips, hitting you so deep, you’re sent reeling and mindless atop him as your thighs tremble.  

Your cries reach crescendo as the stars surge forth, entire nebulas glittering into decadent light, your walls fluttering around him, dragging his release from his sweaty body, cock spilling hot into you. You’re both rendered an entwined, panting mess in the wake of it, kissing softly, hands still roaming, John beginning to chuckle.  

“Yeah,” he breathes, nuzzling your nose, “definitely the least troublesome favourite of the day.”  

You beam, your chest still heaving hard. “Want to take me upstairs and see if I can change that?” Your tongue teases the outer shell of his ear, gently nibbling the soft lobe. “I promise not to buck the jockey off.”  

He laughs loudly, locking his arms around you and carrying you to the stairs, his hand smacking against your bum a few times causing your shrieking laughter. “I suppose it’d be fun if you tried to, love.”  

[spideysl0ve]

"why are you pushing me away?" with Sanji?🩷

 . 𔘓 ؛ chipped glass, chipped heart

⇢ masterlist

⇢ writing prompts

⇢ vinsmoke sanji x f!reader.

⇢ tw: angst, reader is insecure.

⇢ summary: “why are you pushing me away?” prompt with sanji.

you couldn't understand it, one week he had been all over you but now, now he didn't even look into your eyes, what had you done? he still was all over robin and nami, so why not you?

you were starting to think you disgusted him, but why?

it had all been so sudden, one day he kissed the ground you walked on and the next one he barely spoke to you, why?

you sat quietly in the room you shared with nami and robin, scribbling your feelings in your journal as robin entered the room, you stop writing quietly, examining her every move.

''y/n have you seen my book about secret history?'' she asked, her eyes lurking over your messy writing in tear filled sheets, you noticed and close the notebook.

''i think you left it on a chair on the deck'' you quietly spoke, your voice hoarse.

robin sighed, sitting beside you, eyes examinating the dried tears that still reset on your checks, lowering to your ink stained hands that held the notebook protectively.

''is this about sanji again?'' she asked gently, trying not to upset you.

she knew, she knew how deeply you loved the cook, you had told her one night utterly drunk when you came back for celebrating before the crew.

you recalled that moment clearly, although you hardly remembered your name that night, it had happened because you had danced with sanji under the pale moonlight, both of you drunk and clumsy, but still happy, but the morning after that, he just stopped talking to you.

''i just don't get it'' you mumbled, your voice breaking again.

''it's his loss, and you know it'' she reminded you, caressing your hair gently.

------------------------✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩--------------------------

dinner time came and with that you stayed as usual helping sanji clean the kitchen, it's something you both had got used, and it was comfortingly domestic in some way, but now it felt cold, it even hurt in some way.

the usual laughter of your voice and was replaced by the sound of the dishes being collected, while sanji's usual praise to you was replaced by the occasional puffing of his cigar.

you as usual were taking the dishes with a few glasses on top, looking at the floor trying to avoid even looking at the blonde man in front of you, the problem was that you weren't looking at the floor, which made you fall, dishes and glasses fell on top of you as a loud crash echoed through the kitchen.

''y/n!'' sanji turned around quickly, getting down to you in a few moments. “are you okay?” he asked, touching your knee and shoulder gently.

it was the first time he had touched you since that day, you started to tremble, your eyes starting to water as he rubbed your shoulders gently.

“why are you pushing me away?” you cried weakly.

sanji froze, looking at you, crying, he started to feel so guilty, so bad.

“why?” you cried sobbing, he held you as you cried, you punched his chest weakly in despair. “i don't get it…why?”

he just held you there gently, caressing your hair, taking the punishment that you were giving him without even flinching until you relaxed

“because 'i've fallen deeply in love with you, mon y/n” he spoke quietly when you finally calmed down. “and i don't want you to think that you're like any other girl for me” he admitted with guilt, his eyes turning glassy as he cupped your face gently. “i love you and i am sorry for that” he mumbled.

your lip quivered as you both hugged, feeling all the weight of the love you both had falling to on your shoulders and sinking you down to the sea.

and you wanted to sink with him, you wanted to sink with him until you choke out of love.

taglist: @remasjoestar @anamiad00msday @rotin0

be added to my taglist

[richarlotte]

Most important steps to your glow up?

Top Tier.

Braces.

I had my braces on for 18 months, and they were the best decision of my life. I can breathe better, my jaw and chin look better, my teeth are straighter, and I have no more pain. Facial harmony is everything, and mine was restored by an expert orthodontist and continued use of my retainers. Jaw surgery wasn’t reasonable or necessary, but I can’t even begin to describe the impact that dental whitening, braces, weight loss, and proper dental care work had on my face.

 

Electrolytes and Hydration.

I was severely dehydrated and in need of electrolytes for years and years. I thought that drinking enough water wasn’t as important as people made it seem, but my life changed when I started to do it. Life feels much less stressful now that I’m properly hydrated, and I make sure to toss a little lemon and salt in my water and drink a Gatorade or Liquid IV to get electrolytes.

 

Darker and Longer Hair.

I look better with hair that’s long, dark, and thick. I have alopecia, so I did a number of things to disguise my hair loss growing up, but I wear wigs now that my hair is gone. I was told to wear my hair long, dark, and straight last year, and whenever I do, people tell me that I look otherworldly. Now that I know what to do with my hair and what looks best, I’m a million times more confident about myself.

 

Less Dairy.

I am not lactose intolerant, but I do not need to be eating dairy in excess. I enjoy dairy, so I won’t cut it out of my diet, but I don’t need to be eating it in the amount that I did. I was bloated, always breaking out, and tired all the time, but my low energy dissipated the second I cut my dairy intake. I’m not 100% dairy-free and most likely won’t ever be, but I’m careful with the amount I consume.

 

Korean Contact Lenses.

Americans think that all colored contact lenses are unnatural, and American-made colored contacts are. I use Olens contacts and only use the dark shades, and they’re amazing. I find that having huge, dark, striking eyes helps me get exactly what I want, and I love the way I look when I’m wearing contacts. I use contacts to craft my look and emphasize my eyes, and I never buy or use colors that aren’t brown or black. Wearing dark contacts has reduced my need for so much bright eye makeup; they make me look friendlier, and I look better in photos.

 

Better Quality Makeup.

Investing in higher-quality makeup and actually learning how to apply it was crucial. Buying Hourglass, Pat McGrath, Charlotte Tilbury, MAC, and Nars was sort of essential to my makeup journey, and I look much better now that I’ve invested the time and money into learning about makeup. Dupes just don’t hold up to the real things, and I look better now that I’m spending $45 on one product instead of spending $45 on five different products to try to replicate the look.

 

Urea, Glutamic Acid, and Dry Brushing.

I used to have serious strawberry arms and legs, dry skin, and dark spots from body acne, but all of that has cleared up. Hyaluronic acid and body serums have nothing on this combo, and dry brushing has completely cleared up my rough skin and helped with my stretch marks. If you want skin that’s plump, hydrated, glowing, and looks healthy, then you have to exfoliate your dry and wet skin and start using this trio to care for your body.

 

Better Skincare Products.

I invested a lot in using fancy designer brands, but the things that helped me the most were basic, unscented, and quality. I use Paula’s Choice exfoliant, plenty of SPF 100, retinol, and a variety of Korean and American products. My facial acne is gone, my dark marks are cleared, my skin barrier is healed, my skin looks healthier, and I’m glowing. Drunk Elephant, celebrity skincare brands, and trending products didn’t do it for me; figuring out what I needed and then implementing it into my routine helped.

 

Creating my own aesthetic.

I won’t stop talking about The Blend because it helped me become who I am today. I wanted to create a look that would help me, and so I had to spend months solidifying my image. It took me a year to get to where I am today, but life became easier once I was able to figure out what I should be doing, what I should be saving for or investing in, and what suited me. The Blend isn’t just about style, and I had to be scientific with it at times and really work with the resources I had and what was readily accessible to me.

I can do Mid Tier next.

[portraitsofguilt]

✮ ┆ THE HANDS THAT MAKE YOU BLEED. shadowheart

after becoming a dark justiciar, she decides against throwing you away and rather, uses you to spread the word of the lady of loss and help herself to some relief

CONTENT WARNINGS.                      18+ only, minors dni. NSFW/DARK CONTENT UNDER THE CUT; female-bodied reader, dark justiciar! shadowheart, mention of chains, manipulation, captivity, face sitting, hair pulling,  | ~2.3k words

A/N.                     this took like a few days and it might show, it might not, but gods i want this woman to ruin me in all ways she can think of. first time writing for baldur's gate 3, hopefully i didn't destroy anyone's expectations by writings this, anyway... i hope you guys enjoy !!!

the hands that dared to seize your free will, the hands that gave you silent commands, the hands that pushed and pulled you onto the granite floor, hands that patted the top of your head or cheeks so kindly after chaining yo up, hands that treated and teased your mind into mush so cunningly, the hands that punished, torn up your skin, maltreated you so cruelly.

those hands grabbed the belt on your waist, playing with it for a long second as she steps closer, pulling and pushing on it to before taking it off and holding it up in front of you. “you did well today, I am pleased…” the sash was weighted down by the hands of two paladins whose life you stripped by the command of the woman above you.

“kneel.” came simply, almost as quiet as the wind.

she was pleased how tolerable, how easy it was to use you to attain the eternity and enforce the word of shar. to think it was a tedious chore, a daily task of her belittling you, punishing you for every tiny mistake you made to get you to complete obedience.

shadowheart chuckled sickly as she thrived in her work, her fingers coming to grip your chin to tilt up your head. the purple-glowing eyes stare right into your soul, causing your cheeks to flare up because of the sheer embarrassment. it was already humiliating to be kneeling at her feet, in front of all the clerics.

truly, she was ruthless, but you couldn’t leave her, no matter if you wanted to or not, even if this public humiliation was slowly becoming a daily occurrence.

the room was silent for a few seconds, you closed your eyes and bowed your head as you waited for her next instruction but only the sound of boots and shoes scraping the floor echoed in the room and before you knew it, a small click sound. shadowheart patted your head, signing that you were allowed to get up on your feet.

“I’m proud…” she would never admit out loud in front of anyone, that she is pleased with your work not just because you have done it without complaining and shown how easy it was to meet her ‘high’ standards, but because you came back to her, rather than escaping. all her hard work to form you into a devotee like herself was one of her divine masterpieces.

she wasn’t going to let anyone mess it up by letting the leash she had on you hang loose. “we should celebrate, hmm?” she hummed softly as she took the collar of your shirt in her grip, yanking on it until your face met with the cold floor.

shadowheart let out a pleased scoff, watching as you tried to gather yourself from the sudden hit, wiping your face from the dirt that stuck to your sweat. quietly taking her steps to circle you, a bright smile on her face as you don't even try to get up until she says so. this just puts more fuel to the fiery pit in her stomach, craving to be satisfied by her most devoted.

"don't keep me waiting, hurry after me." she said lowly, grabbing hold of your hand that reached out for the stair by which you wanted to push yourself up. you look up at her, eyes sparkling with the mix of some sort of surprise and appreciation, things that she was quick to strip you of as she yanked you onto your feet and headed towards her chambers without waiting for you.

"my lady..." you whispered when you stopped walking, standing at the doorway, staring inside with wide eyes as you watched her move around in her large bed. she didn't even glance at you once, instead began to undress herself once she was settled in the middle of the soft silk sheets. this was nothing short of luxury, a privilege that she dragged you into her bed instead of just taking whatever physical pleasure she wanted and needed from you right in the middle of the house of grief without any care that someone might open in and see the two of you.

once she had stripped her underwear, leaned against her piles of pillows with a smirk on her lips, knees pulled up and slowly parted, just enough for you to see her glistening excitement smearing between her thighs.

"well... what are you waiting for?" she purred, voice husky as it sent shivers through your body, your legs weak and ready to obey her command. there's only so much power you can wield without it being her calling it an abuse of the little freedom she is giving you, being hesitant is one of those things she lets slip by.

you walked further into her chambers, your hand reaching for the few sashes that held your light armor together. you didn't have to be told or made by her to strip, she expected you to be bare and ready to fulfill her lustful needs with one simple look. thought she preferred if you were hasty about it, she didn't mind once in a while if you made a show out of it, only taking one layer down at a time and leaving your underwear for her so she could tear it up, to further degrade you, to call you her slut for not even fighting back against her violent advances.

"so many things you got done in so much time..." she starts off, her tone seemingly careful and kind as you crawl between her legs and wait for her to open them further, for her to let you lap her up with the eager moves of your tongue. but instead, she grabs your jaw, harshly digging her nails into your skin, her expression malformed into one of disgust and judgment. "do you have no shame for making wait?"

you cry a sorry out, then another when her other hand grabs a hold of your hair and pulls your head back until the skin over your throat painfully stretches, the back of your neck nearly snapping from the force. the pain was a reminder that you weren't a soldier anymore, that you were something else entirely, something that was different yet still felt exactly the same as your former self. you were her tool, used to achieve her desires. but now you're here, you're here to serve, to do her bidding, and to make her feel good.

there was not much you had to say or wanted to do other than assure her that you would do your very best, no matter if it meant that she smothered you to death between her lips of wildflowers. such a cheesy and unnecessary compliment for her, as if she didn't already know how'd you plead for your life, but such things like that brought back a small piece of the shadowheart you first fell in love with, a fragment of who she was before she chooses shar over you, that softened her now stone cold and hard heart so she saw you more than just a 'thing' that was beneath her.

but as far as compliments like that went with her, today she was not at all interested in anything you had to say. her pure goal was for you to shut up and use your mouth as she intended you to- to please her, to eat her out, to feast on her as if this was your last chance to eat because who knows? it might as well be...

shadowheart twists your head to the side, forcing you to roll onto your back before settling above you, nestling your face between her thighs but still keeping her grip on you. she looked majestic even if you couldn't see much of her in the dim lights, you knew how she looked by heart.

"service me now, work for my forgiveness." the words were spoken in such a way that they felt more like a command rather than a request, the sharp nails now digging into your scalp, more vicious than anything else. you wanted to flinch away, but her grip was firm. her grip was painful. her grip was everything but gentle.

she lowers herself on your face, feeling your nose touch the skin of her inner thigh before bumping into her clit. the warlock flinches, her grip loosening the slightest bit as she lets her sensitive bud throb with overwhelming need before slowly moving her hips. your head following her movement, and your mouth, sucking hard and biting her sensitive skin as you licked at it, tasting salt, trying to find her sweet spot.

it wasn't too hard with her guiding you, the merciless tugs to adjust your face as you stuck your tongue out and gently sucked at her sensitive nub, the warmth of her wetness mixing with your saliva as she continued to move your head faster and faster.

"ah," she moaned, throwing her head back as her hands rested on either side of your head, holding tight onto your hair and tugging with such force that she almost tore it out. but there were more pressing matters than for you to focus on this little discomfort that was so inconvenient for you. letting a hiss of pain die in your throat, you let your attention be eaten up be the taste of her hot and sour, of her juices running down your mouth, of her own blood mingling with yours, of her cries filled with joy and satisfaction.

your vision blurred and darkened, shadowheart merely being a shadowy figure above you, your whole body shaking under her weight as you felt her muscles tighten in her abdomen and the heat of her seed run down your throat, staining your tongue with the sweetness.  the sounds that escaped her mouth and the scent of her arousal that filled the air made your head spin, your hands tremble as you gripped her thighs tightly to ground yourself, to remind you that she was really fucking with you. really getting what she wanted. really making it clear that she owned you, that you had to do what she asked you to do, and that you were just a slave to her will.

shadowheart gasps deeply and closes her eyes tight. "faster," she commands in a hoarse whisper, "harder!" she practically screamed the words as her fingers dug deeper into the skin of your scalp, making sure to leave a mark that you would never forget. your mind going blank as it started to cloud over with ecstasy, as it was filled with the moans of the divine dark justiciar's cries of pleasure. she was enjoying it, enjoying this, enjoying being dominated by your tongue, sucking her off like a whore, like her own personal whore.

her breathing slowed down, her fingers slipping from your hair, her spine arching to press more of her weight down onto you, your lips finally sating the thirst and desire burning within her, the only thing left now was your body trembling in fear for her to do as she pleased with.

you could barely lift your eyes enough to see the look on her face, to see if she enjoyed the moment, if her satisfaction was greater than the last time you serviced her with your mouth. your lips parted as her head tipped forward and her gaze looked at you.

a satisfied smile spread across her face as she slowly moved the slightest off of your face to see her wetness shining on your face, enveloping your delicate lips.

shadowheart lets out a pleasant sigh, closing her eyes for a mere second as her body enjoys the remaining small waves of pleasure washing over it before moving off of you. she falls next to you on her side, her face inching away from yours before she leans in and captures your lips in a searing kiss. her hand comes up to caress your cheek, seemingly letting you savor the soft sensation of her skin upon yours.

you kiss her slowly, softly, tenderly...

"oh my... " she moaned, her hot breath fanning over you as she ran her fingers through your hair, pulling your head closer to hers. you knew what was going through her mind, could see the hunger radiating from her eyes, the want, the need, and the lust.

you let your eyes close, feeling her lips brush against your cheek, her hand falling to your stomach and caressing your lower stomach, pinching the skin lightly and causing you to wince at the sudden harsh movements of her hand.

"I... I'm tired, I need rest..." you mumble, the words barely audible and weak as your eyes remained closed, unable to open them and see what kind of look the dark warrior was giving you. you heard her hum, her warm breath fanning over your neck, her hand resting on your hip.

"you'll rest when you're dead." her voice was deep and low, her hand squeezing slightly around your hip, causing you to shudder and gasp as a chill ran down your spine. you opened your eyes to see what kind of face she was making, and for a brief second, you thought you caught something resembling sympathy, a sliver of a caring soul hidden behind her mask of darkness, her cold gaze melting your bones as your heart rate picks up, adrenaline pumping in your veins. "now i'm gonna fuck you until i get bored." shadowheart whispered in your ear, licking the shell and smiling widely, her tongue darting into your earlobe as she bites down. there is nothing you can do, nothing you can say that will change this situation, you are trapped, bound to her and your fate as surely as a snake wrapped around a stick tied to its tail; and she is the one to wield the whip.

[mysumeow]

HIII IS IT ALRIGHT TO REQ A YANDERE ALBEDO X READER SMUT N ANGST? I've been trying to look ALL over socials to find a good piece but I couldn't😭 would be wonderful for you to make one! BTW LOVE UR WORK UR DOING SO GREAT!!!!!💟💟💟

ꗃ ENSNARE

Warnings: afab genitalia, gn pronouns. YANDERE albedo, reader is forced to drink a potion, reader experiences memory loss, may be considered as dubcon, PIV unprotected sex.

Summary: Albedo isn't fond of the idea of you being away from him indefinitely. He proceeds to take matters into his own hands.

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: ANON TY TT_TT ILY <3. I think that Albedo as a yandere is a strange mixture of both being sadistic if pushed enough in that direction and being a gentle lover. He's just ironic like that. He can also be manipulative if he considers he needs to be. >:()

MASTERLIST

Being granted a chance to study at Sumeru's Akademiya was an achievement worthy of celebration.

Sucrose and Timeus congratulated you.

Albedo, on the other hand...well, he did too; however, not before a strange look settled in his eyes before he cleared his throat and congratulated you.

One week away from your departure, you still have one more obligation to take care of before you leave.

Albedo and you had been researching an experimental mix for memory loss. Not for getting rid of it, but rather for the opposite. Albedo did have a hidden streak for coming up with quite questionable ideas, but he claimed it's all for the sake of innovation and research.

He was quieter than usual as you worked on preparing the final touches to the potion. He even avoided your eyes, and that, of course, stung.

You were about to go abroad for a couple of years, and he was giving you the cold shoulder...?

"For how long will you be away?"

When the alchemist voices his question out of the blue, it took you by surprise. You bit your tongue to avoid answering with a passive-aggressive comment about his distant attitude. Instead, you answered with sincerity.

"Two years. Maybe more if I get a job there," you watched the bubbles form in the liquid. It was almost done.

"Hm, I see."

Is that all you'll say?

You couldn't help but be a bit annoyed.

"Although I am overjoyed about your promising future, I fret that I have to remind you that we aren't done with this research," the liquid stopped bubbling, and Albedo took the glass to shake it side to side. "And your duty, as a fellow alchemist, is to follow through with it,"

"..." well, he wasn't wrong. You did promise that you would complete this important experiment in a way to show your gratitude to him for taking you under his wing. "I was hoping that you would...excuse me, this time,"

Albedo's gaze seemed to stray off into deep thought.

"A reasonable assumption on your part," his voice was calm, even if that serenity didn't translate into his eyes. "I'll concede. You mustn’t delay your departure for the sake of testing and re-doing the formula in case it doesn't work,"

That relieved a weight off your shoulders.

"Nonetheless, I do ask for assistance in fetching additional ingredients in Dragonspine. It's less work, is it not?"

"Thank you, Albedo," you said, forcing a smile. Although you were hoping he would just let you go, you figured it was way less work than you had to do. "I'll be here tomorrow,"

"I'd like to depart at seven. I'd recommend you be ready by six at the latest," he nodded. He seemed to be in a better mood.

"Will do. See you tomorrow. Have a good rest."

"Goodnight.”

Once in your home, you had time to reflect on Albedo's attitude during this last meeting.

From the time you had known him, you never felt like he was dissatisfied with something you did. Not even when you first began dipping your toes into the field of alchemy and committed various mistakes that ended up in explosions, would he get as displeased as he did these past days. He was a patient teacher, guiding you towards the path of a successful alchemist. And, as a friend, he was also gentle and nice.

So, that's why you couldn't ignore the shiver that crawled up your spine for a reason you weren’t sure. He was just acting odd...

Uncertainty gnawed at the back of your mind while you prepared your equipment for tomorrow's trip. The more the clock ticked, the more it grew.

The longer you thought about the cold, difficult way up to Albedo's lab in that forsaken mountain, the more you doubted if you were willing to go through with it. You had a lot of preparations to do yet, and a trip to Dragonspine would take up at least two days.

Your arms went limp as you stared at the half-full suitcase on your bed. You were still in time to tell him about your change of heart. You could look for him in his office at the Knight of Favonius's headquarters if you went right now.

You finished putting your shoes back on and went ahead to open your door.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest when the person who was occupying a good portion of your thoughts was standing right in front of you.

"Albedo...?"

"May I come in?"

You blinked twice, still recovering from the unexpected visit.

Albedo's teal eyes widened a bit as he raised his eyebrows and looked at you with confusion. "Is everything alright?"

"No-! Yeah! I mean, good timing. I was about to head out and talk to you," you stepped aside to let him in. "What brings you here?"

"Wanted to check up on you and make sure you packed the right supplies. You don't go up there as often as Sucrose and Timeus do," he gripped the strap of the bag on his shoulder.

"How... considerate," you planned to think about what you were going to say to him on the walk to the headquarters, but his sudden appearance left you unprepared as to how to approach the topic.

He glanced at your suitcase for a brief second before he spoke again: "You might reconsider the boots you're taking. Do you, perchance, have one with better insulation?"

"Albedo," you interjected more impulsively than you should've. Albedo turned to draw his attention to you. "I was thinking, maybe I can't do that trip. You see, I'm a week away from my departure. And I have lots of stuff to take care of before I go. I'm sorry that I'm sort of abandoning the project before its absolute completion, but..."

"I understand," Albedo's faint smile almost put you at ease. "You're busy. Everyone is, including myself,"

You just nodded, hoping this conversation would end already.

"So, let's skip the trip and go straight to the testing phase."

Weight placed on your hips and wrists, pain on the back of your head as you laid on the floor—it happened too fast. Soon, you began wrestling your arms, trying to break free from his grip but failing at it. You didn't understand how someone of Albedo's build and height could have such strength.

Your arms trembled, and you gritted your teeth, trying to push him off you. Fed up with your resistance, Albedo shoved you more against the floor, as if trying to prove a point—you're not going anywhere.

"I'd advise against making this harder than it already is," Albedo furrowed his eyebrows, his other hand pulling out the concoction out of the bag he had brought.

"Are you listening to yourself? You're asking me to stay calm in a situation like this?" your efforts to break free didn't falter for a single moment. "Are you out of your mind, Albedo? What the fuck is wrong with you!"

He didn't even seem to be listening to you; he unscorched the flask and poured the liquid into his mouth. He leaned down towards your lips, and you didn't need a second more to understand what he wanted to do.

He discarded the empty flask and took the opportunity to use his now free hand to pinch your nose, forcing you to open your mouth out of absolute distress and forcing the liquid into you.

You tasted blood, and at the same time, Albedo grunted from pain. You had injured his lip out of spite without thinking twice, but rather than angered, he had a pleased look instead.

"Why," you cried, your heart aching from having your trust broken by someone as important to your life as Albedo.

"Isn't it evident enough already? Ah, my apologies. You have your moments of being dull, needing aid from me to spell it out, don't you?"

Albedo was mocking you.

How much crueler could he be?

"There are reasons aplenty for these actions. One of them is that I can't stand the idea of letting you go. I hope you can find the possibility of forgiving me before you forget everything."

Seeing you were slipping out of conscience, Albedo finally let you go and cradled your head, resting his cheek against your temple, murmuring soothing promises that you didn't believe.

The place where you woke up was soft and comforting. It smelled of fresh linen and the faint aroma of cecilias.

Coming into your senses, you rose from the bed and looked around, recognizing you had no recollection of why you were here or who you were...

Your first instinct was to head to the door, which you did. 

A cold gust of wind blew straight into you, your once warm cheeks felt chilled at the drastic change in temperature. You shielded your eyes and squinted, discerning a pair of boots advancing in your direction.

"You're shivering," a pale, blond stranger with azure eyes guided you back inside with tender hands.

The stranger closed the door behind him with his leg and set down the stuff he was carrying. He brushed off the snowflakes left on your hair, not yet meeting your eyes.

"I know you have a lot of questions…”

You interpreted that as an invitation to ask away, which you did. The basic information about yourself, what's in this place, and about him.

Albedo wasn’t one to opt for easier ways out when it came to his work. He pushed himself to his limits, neglecting his commodity for the sake of advancing with his studies the most he could; he broke that habit with you. He chose the easy way out to avoid losing you; he chose the easy way out to trick you into feeling safe with him now.

“You can’t leave this place. There are people out there who want to hurt you.”

 Himself, being the first one to wound your trust.

“The moment they see you, they’ll want to pounce on you.”

Not for the reason he was deceiving you to believe in. They’d run to you to hug you and ask why you had disappeared.

“I still must go down the mountain to bring what we need to live here in relative tranquility. Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it,” he rubbed soothing circles with his thumbs into your shoulders, his voice’s timbre akin to an analgesic. “Whatever you need, let me know,”

Albedo’s soft gaze was the first one you met back then, and as the days went by, not once did you sense any danger or discomfort within his presence. Considering that he was the only person you interacted with, you soon found yourself growing more attached to him.

Albedo sat down on the bed you shared, shrugging off his coat. He just came back from one of those trips he made to bring water, food, and other indispensable supplies. You watched him in silence, wondering if it would be alright if you acted on your heart’s whims.

He took off his boots too and undid his braids before he laid down next to you, facing the ceiling. His eyes were half-lidded from exhaustion. His chest rose and fell at a languid pace, his cheeks red from the cold.

He must've noticed your prolonged stare because he spoke up: “What did you do today?”

“Oh, I just stared at the wall,” you joked.

Albedo smiled, glad that you had at least retained some of your personality.

“I went through your sketchbook. The place where you go to fetch our stuff appeared to be warm and bright,” you sighed, longing to feel the sunlight on your skin and not the cold breeze trying to fight off what little warmth the sun provided. “I also tidied what I could, but there’s not much stuff to organize anyways,”

He hummed, his eyes still not meeting yours.

“Albedo—” you called out for him before you could stop yourself. You covered your mouth afterwards, but it was already done. You had the entirety of his attention on you.

“Yes?” he turned to face you; his cheek squished against the pillow.

Now that you thought about it, you realized you rarely glanced at his face, at least not with this amount of clarity. He was close; you could appreciate in detail every feature of his, like how the locks of hair he braided framed his face in a different way now that they were untied.

“I noticed there’s something worrying you,” he uttered.

Calling him was one thing your heart ached to do, and placing your hand on his cheek was another. The latter, however, you acted out on.

His face was warm. You expected it to be the opposite, but you were happy that it wasn’t the case. And it grew warmer the more you left your hand there and the more you approached his lips.

And the kiss heightened in intensity whilst his hands found your hips, and you positioned your leg over his. You wondered if his heartbeat was as fast as yours did now or if he had fantasized of something like this occurring. He didn’t push you away. In fact, he pulled you in closer. He locked his arms around your frame, loving you with a desperation not usual of him.

It was evident in his eyes how much he yearned for this, for your love. Despite that, he took his time to undress you, caress the expanse of your abdomen, and kiss every inch of your skin. His hands went from your hips towards your chest and gave you a gentle squeeze. Your body’s response occupied his keen observation; thumbs rubbed on your nipples, and more arousal pooled between your thighs. His index fingers joined to pinch them carefully—a moan left you, and his heated attention shifted towards your face.

Albedo swallowed hard before he shifted positions to sit between your parted legs. His kisses went to your neck, and a hand slid down towards your glistening folds. He prodded first, marveling at how slick you already were, and then glided a finger inside. You hugged him closer, unused to that sensation. You were hiding your face in his hair, but Albedo didn’t mind.

A finger became two, increasing the tempo little by little. Even though the stimulation wasn’t directed to your clit, his palm rubbed the spot anyway.

“More,” you panted, your arms tightening around his lean frame. You could feel the muscles on his back tense and release from his movements, and his hot breath was fanning your neck. Albedo, always responsive and pliant to your wants, rubbed his thumb faster against your clit, the thrusting of his fingers inside of you became sloppier. You’d be embarrassed at the amount of slick sticking to your inner thighs, but right now, you don’t have the mind for it.

Just before you reached the edge, he stopped.

“Albedo,” you whined, tears forming in your eyes from your ruined orgasm.

He didn’t seem guilty in the slightest when he cupped your face and swallowed any other complaints you had by claiming your lips with his; tongue slipping against yours, and softly groaning into the kiss. You felt him suckle your tongue a bit and pull away. You almost whined from the loss, but your thoughts vanished once he stroked your clit with his dick. Albedo’s interest piqued each time you twitched from pleasure, taking in your reactions.

“Put your legs on my shoulders,” he asked, waiting for you to come back into your senses to do so. With uncoordinated movements, you managed to follow through with the request, and he pulled you in closer.

Hot.

It was ardent when it made contact with your stimulated and sensitive hole. Albedo had trouble controlling his heartbeat, and after some seconds of preparation, he eased in. It was an enjoyable stretch, reckoning Albedo’s intent on satisfying you.

Albedo filled you to completion, the tip poking a vulnerable spot inside of you. The tremors in your body didn’t subside when he touched it, and he could feel it himself. Gripping your hips with a firm hold, Albedo began thrusting. In and out—a coordinated and gradual pace. You were getting used to the sensation of having something of that girth inside of you, and Albedo was trying not to cum so fast.

“Your body reacts so beautifully when I touch you here,” Albedo’s fingers went back to your clit, and you arched your back when he began stimulating it in tandem with his thrusting. He was about to say something else until a groan cut him off, feeling you clench around him.

Whatever self-restraint he preserved left his movements closer to fucking than lovemaking, with how fast and hard he was yanking your hips in his direction. Not like you would complain, anyway, since his sleek fingers (from your wetness) were rubbing on your clit. You were treated to the airy groans and gasps that emerged from his bitten lips and the unusual sight of the collected alchemist losing his composure, thanks to you.

You approached an orgasm faster than you thought you would, stopping your body with spasms and blanking your mind. You managed to hear Albedo’s own groan of pleasure and hot, thick spurts of cum inside of you. Albedo hurried to kiss you, ensnaring your body taut to him, making sure everything went inside.

You were tired, and you didn’t even care that Albedo was still resting on top of you. After a few minutes, he pulled out and laid next to you, hugging your shivering frame to his.

“Do you want me to prepare a bath?” he kissed your temple.

“That sounds like a good idea,” you mumbled, clinging to him.

The next morning came, and Albedo found he had to go back down for an emergency. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he prepared himself to go out, wishing you could go along with him.

“I’ll be here as soon as I can,” he said, putting his coat on before going away. “If I’m not here by nighttime, expect me to arrive in the morning,”

You nodded, considering whether you should attempt to ask him to tag along.

By the time you made up your mind, he was already gone.

Last night, as you were drifting off to sleep, you recalled some information regarding Albedo: he’s an alchemist.

You had no recollection of him ever telling you the precise field of his work, but for some reason, you were convinced it was a fact.

The more you fell down the rabbit hole with the question of why you were so convinced about it, the more you began remembering bits of information before you were brought here.

You glanced at the pile of research notes, notebooks, and sketchbooks left on the desk. Amongst the notebooks, you recognized one he tends to take with him whenever he heads outside of Dragonspine. For a moment, you entertain the idea of running after him to give it, since it’s important. You decide against it, given that you don’t have the appropriate equipment to stand the unforgiving temperature or something to guide you.

Days like this were boring, so instead of looking through his drawings, you went through the notebook.

A particular page catches your attention.

You skimmed through it, the mumble-jumble of words not inspiring you to stop and analyze it. However, the moment you identify a series of daily records detailing who worked to create this experimental potion and the progress made with each study—

You found your name.

[lowkeycasanova]

Idk if your requests are open if not respond to the Privately but So idk if you actually feel comfortable writing for Luffy I am looki for one piece x reader writers who have the requests open and came across you anyway I request takes place after the time skip where reading I ask Luffy if next year they can celebrate Ace with Luffy aka next year on the day of his death instead of feeling sad they want me make sure Luffy is happy so they will spend the entire day doing things would love like eating us favorite foods and doing things he would love

A Day For Him

The sun was setting over the Thousand Sunny, casting a warm, golden glow over the deck. The rest of the crew started heading inside while Luffy stood at the helm, staring at the horizon. His straw hat cast a shadow over his eyes but you could still see his fixed gaze. It's been a year since the crew reunited and tomorrow will be three years since Ace died. Luffy had come to terms with his death, but the pain still lingered.

From a distance, you watched. Your heart aching for him. When you had first heard the news of the events at Marineford, the only thing you wanted to do was to be by his side. You'd seen Luffy smile, laugh, and fight with unyielding determination, but you also knew the quiet moments when the weight of his loss pressed heavily on his shoulders. You then took a deep breath and resolved to make tomorrow a day filled with joy and love, and where Luffy could remember Ace without the shadow of sorrow.

As the first light of dawn broke, not a single cloud marred the sky. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm and inviting glow over the calm sea.

"Land, ho!" Nami's voice rang out, breaking the serene morning silence. She pointed to a lush, vibrant island on the horizon. You all gathered around, excited by the prospect of a new adventure.

When the ship docked, everyone disembarked with eager anticipation. The island was a paradise of beautiful flowers, towering trees, crystal clear streams, and a vibrant village. Luffy led the way with a wide, genuine, smile on his face that made your heart soar.

The crew split up, each member heading off to explore their own interests. As you wandered through the bustling city, the air was filled with different scents. Luffy's eyes sparkled with excitement as he didn't know where to look first.

After a while of being on your own, you went looking for your crew mates.

"Oi, look at this!" Luffy shouted, his mouth full of some fruit he had stuffed in there.

Didn't take long to find him at all.

He dashed from vendor to vendor, barely pausing to chew before sampling the next delicacy. His as appetite insatiable as ever.

"Don't eat the whole thing in one bite Luffy!" Usopp reprimanded.

"Yeah, save some for us!" Nami chided, although her tone was more playful. This time.

As the day wore on, the crew reconvened at a local bar. Zoro had already been there, as you saw the empty sake bottles in front of him. Nami arrived with an armful of shopping bags, eyes glinting with satisfaction. Luffy, of course, dived into his food head first. You founds yourself caught up in the camaraderie. It felt good not to worry about enemies and just have fun. Plus, the pain of the past was momentarily forgotten in the warmth of the present.

When the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, you all made your way back to the Thousand Sunny. Anchored near the shore, the ship felt like a safe haven, a place where you could relax and simply be together. The deck filled with laughter and the smell of Sanji's cooking.

Luffy, surrounded by his nakama, felt a sense of peace. The words, "I still have my crew" rang in his mind. But y'all weren't just his crew, but his family. And today, was a celebration of the man who had meant so much to him.

You took a moment to admire your captain.

He sat cross-legged, his hat tipped back as he gazed up at the stars beginning to dot the sky. You joined him, sitting quietly by his side. The silence was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that today had been a good day. The stars seemed to shine a little brighter that night and you know that Ace's flame would never truly be extinguished.

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Fumikage Tokoyami x Reader - Dangerous - I

Summary: After losing your quirk, you confide in Tokoyami that your situation does, in fact, bother you.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, comfort, mentions of trauma, reader has a specific quirk, fem!reader, loss of quirk

You sat on the balcony of Heights Alliance, hugging your knees close to your chest as you stared up at the stars with glossy eyes. From inside, you could hear cheering. Your classmates were having a party to celebrate everyone coming home somewhat safely from a terrifying encounter with the League of Villains. The party was actually meant to be in your honor, mostly. To commemorate you finally coming home from the hospital after such a long stay. That being said, it didn't seem like anyone minded you not actually attending.

The previous weeks had flown by for you, almost as if you were on autopilot. You hadn't had any kind of time to accept the things that had happened to you, but everyone seemed to have already moved on, so you did your best to pretend you had as well. You didn't want to rain on anyone's parade.

Tears welled in your eyes as you twirled a dead strand of hair around your finger, pulling it from the follicle almost instantly, and you stared at it, pinching it between your fingers. Heartbroken at the frailty and dullness of it, you blew it out of your hand, letting the wind carry it away.

Suddenly, you wiped your tears onto your sleeve, hearing the sliding glass door hit its frame as someone stepped out. You didn't need to look, you already knew who it was. Heavy footsteps were a dead ringer for the identity of the person. Only two people in class wore combat boots casually- Jiro and Tokoyami, and you could hear the former's distinct laugh coming from inside.

"You'd think if someone threw you a party, you might show up," Tokoiyami said, sitting beside you, one leg straight out, popping between the bars of the railing and the other bent with his knee to the sky as he rested backward on his palms.

"Yeah, kinda rude, don't you think?" A raspy, graining voice chastised from behind him, only to be waved off by the raven.

"Enough," He said, willing Dark Shadow back within himself.

"No," you protested, a bit too late. "He's right, you both are." you replied, finally acknowledging him. "It is rude of me not to attend my own party, especially when everyone went to such trouble..." You had to stop faking a smile as it was making your lip quiver. You felt a sturdy hand on your shoulder, and a staticky feeling on the other.

"Are you alright?" Tokoyami asked, giving your left shoulder a reassuring squeeze as Dark Shadow rested his head on the left.

"I-I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" you answered, conviction wavering greatly as you stifled sobs. "You all went to such trouble to make sure I felt welcome when I came home, I'm just so happy to have caring friends." You were only half lying. Throughout your entire hospital stay, someone was always there with you. A few students rotated spending nights with you or sitting with you to ensure you didn't get lonely. Sato kept you in supply of so many sweets you were sure you'd gained weight as a consequence, and the girls kept your room cute and full of fresh flowers to lift your spirits. They had all gone out of their way to make you feel cared for. "I'm just going to miss you all so much..." You finally confessed almost silently.

"We aren't going anywhere, I promise," He said, comfortingly, eyes softening. "Why would you think that?"

"I know you aren't leaving, Toko," you corrected with a sniffle. "I am."

His vermillion eyes widened in pure shock. What did you mean, where you running away?" "No you aren't," he said in disbelief, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your back against his chest. "You're still a part of class 1-A, no matter what happens."

"I'm getting expelled, Tokoyami." You stated flatly. "I'm quirkless, I can't stay here."

He was silent for a moment before speaking again, softer than you'd ever heard him. "That won't happen, it's in the bilaws. A quirk isn't required to be enrolled at UA anymore, ask Midor-"

"Nezu said it himself," you explained matter of factly, feeling honestly numb about the whole thing. "He said I'm in more danger here as a student and without a quirk I'm a liability. I can't protect myself or anyone else if the villains were to attack us again. He's sending me home tomorrow and my family and I will be placed in witness protection."

Suddenly, everything made so much sense to him. Why you had mentioned wanting to stay in the hospital, why you didn't want to join the party. For the class, it was a welcome home party. For you, it was for going away.

"I-I see..." he muttered into your back, tucking his head between the two of you to gather his wits. "That's...unfortunate, I'm going to miss you...very much." He confessed, his stomach dropping to his stomach at the revelation.

"I'll miss you too," you replied softly, gazing up at the stars. "Probably the most out of everyone."

"Is that so?" He asked, chuckling sadly. "I'm glad I could be your favorite."

"Nobody else ever had a chance of being my favorite," you confessed with a relieved smile. This all did feel good to get off your chest. "I liked you since day one."

You could feel Tokoyami freeze against your back, his eyes shot wide open. "Y-You...liked me?" he asked carefully, almost as if asking for confirmation would scare you away like a deer when approached by a human.

"Present tense," You responded sweetly. "I still do. Just thought you outta know."

You felt his grip on you tighten as his head perched on your shoulder. "How bittersweet..." He mused lightheartedly.

"What is?" you asked, cocking your head away from his in a feeble attempt to look his way.

"I always thought I'd have more time to collect myself beforehand..." he answered cryptically. "I thought I might wait to tell you until we're older."

"Tell me what?" you pressed, becoming nervous and annoyed at once.

"That I am..." you could feel him inhale through his nostrils. "Irrevocably infatuated with you." He finally admitted, sanguine as he held you in the peaceful cover of night.

"Would have been nice to know." You laughed, cheeks running hot, but not as much as they would have been under better circumstances. "Maybe we'll find each other later in life, maybe in another life entirely. Sometime after this is all over."

"I'd wait eons to be with you, (Y/n)." he accepted, knowing the time wasn't right, but that you were the right person.

"I think I would too," you agreed, nuzzling his feathered cheekbone lightly. "I suppose there's no point in asking you out now, is there?"

He unfortunately shook his head. "I'm afraid not, but at least until morning, we can be one, even if day break means separation."

"That sounds nice..." you cooed, resting against him as your gaze naturally lilted upwards to his, already waiting. "Fumikage...can I call you that?" You asked, almost sure of his answer, but wanting to be respectful none the less.

"You may call me anything as long as you call me yours." He replied, nodding.

"Wanna kiss...?" You could tell the suggestion caught him by surprise by the way he withdrew slightly, and you thought for a moment that you'd ruined everything. No matter if you did, after tomorrow, you'd probably never see him again.

"More than anything, yes," he answered breathlessly. "But I can't kiss you...by conventional means." He confessed, suddenly bashful. It was then that you realized it never dawned on you that Tokoyami's beak may not have been pleasant to kiss.

"Why don't you kiss me then..?" you suggested serenely. "That way you can show me how to kiss you back, it's not like I've ever kissed anyone anyhow."

"A-Are you sure...?" he asked, swallowing hard as you shifted in his lap to face him.

"I am," you confirmed with a smile, leaning closer expectantly. Tokoyami suddenly felt incredibly nervous.

Slowly, he leaned in to meet you, first nuzzling his forehead against yours and then your cheek. "I-It's called preening..." he said softly, beak parting as he took the gentlest nibbles at your cheeks and bottom lip. You couldn't help but blush as you struggled to stifle a giggle, failing miserably, making him yank back in embarassament.

"Thank you..." you smile sweetly at his fluster. "For sharing that with me, I could tell it was special."

"It's how birds show affection," he explained halfheartedly. "We clean each other's feathers, though, obviously you don't have any feathers, so I improvised..." Tokoyami felt like he was digging his own grave as he withdrew from you.

"It was precious..." you murmured, bringing your fingertips up to your lips, as if to hold his kiss there for as long as possible. "I loved it."

"T-There is something else we could try..." he suggested sheepishly. It's a bit more human but its...also a bit more how do I say it...?"

You tilted your head, eyeing him curiously. "Passionate?"

"Something to that effect..." He muttered, on the verge of humiliation, until you nodded your head with a glint in your eye that made his knees weak. With trembling fingers, he raised his hand, trying his best to imitate things he'd read in gothic romance novels. Hooking your chin, he pulled you infinitely closer, tilting his head opposite of yours as he guided you to do the same, and he parted his beak again, this time wider than before.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of his tongue pressing against your lips, but you tried to adjust quickly so as not to embarrass him further. Letting your lips give way, your own tongue inched beyond them, touching his so very gently. Shocked, he almost pulled away but willed himself still, letting his tongue gently brush against yours with a furrowed brow. He had to concentrate in order to keep his beak from hurting you, but he was finding it so easy to lose focus as you crawled closer and grew bolder, pressing your face against the side of his in order to explore more of his mouth.

"My lark..." Tokoyami sighed, feeling lost in the moment as he shivered at the sensation of your tongue grazing the back of his teeth. As his hands slithered around your neck to cup your jaw, he couldn't help but feel his attention split at the overwhelming warmth that sat there on your shoulders. Eyes fluttering open, they suddenly snapped wide at the sight of you, magenta locks aflame.

"Lark," he repeated, pulling away, breath dripping with astonishment. "Your hair!"

[fanficdelulus]

Renewed

Fate (Gojo x Fem! Reader)

————————————————

Violet eyes shrinking in horror once more as Suguru pushed past the heavy double doors of the church. His gaze immediately locked on his best friend. Satoru was sorrowfully carrying Riko's lifeless body towards him, a white sheet draped over her, while white-gown-clad church members smiled and clapped in an unsettling celebration.

"Satoru? Is that you?" Suguru shakily questioned as his longtime friend neared him. "Looks like you saw Shoko," Satoru noted as his gaze lingered behind Suguru in search of you.

"Yeah... I'm fine. (Name) is—" Suguru paused, his voice faltering as his violet eyes clouded over in dismay. His mind flashed back to the moment he was dragging the two of you towards the medical sector in search of Shoko.

"Suguru... we have to help Satoru," you wearily murmured as blood rushed past your lips, and coughs wracked your fragile frame.

"Shoko's doing everything she can to help her," Suguru replied, his voice heavy with sadness as his eyes caught Riko's lifeless hand falling out from underneath the covering.

"I'm the one who messed up," Satoru regretfully remarked, a pitiful sigh escaping his lips. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with grief and despair. Satoru's voice quivered as he made a grim suggestion, his eyes reflecting the pain that weighed down his heart. "Should we kill them all? The way I am right now, I wouldn't feel a thing."

Suguru, ever the voice of reason, shook his head slowly, his expression a mix of sadness and understanding. "No," he began, his voice low and filled with sorrow, "it would be pointless. We, as Jujutsu Sorcerers, must always have a reason."

With a heavy heart, Suguru reached for Riko's lifeless form in Satoru's arms. The two of them were caught in a painful moment of loss and helplessness, the significance of the situation weighing heavily on their souls.

Suguru tried to offer Satoru some consolation. "Go see Shoko," he advised, his voice gentle but laden with sorrow. "She'll help you once she's done with (Name)." The room held a sense of profound grief and despair as they grappled with their losses and the harsh reality of their world.

————————————————-

Satoru returned to school with a heavy heart. Guilt gnawed at him as he entered the med sector. His gaze fell upon you, and a deep sense of remorse washed over him. You lay in the bed, looking incredibly frail, your face pallid, and red splotches of pain marring your cheeks. Each slow and labored breath you took felt like a dagger in his chest.

His fingers hesitated above your limp hand, the guilt making it hard to bring himself to touch you. Just then, the door to the room creaked open, and Satoru turned to see Shoko entering.

"The blade that pierced through her chest had been tipped with poison," Shoko explained as she walked out of the storage closet, a pack of cigarettes in hand. Her words struck Satoru like a blow to the chest. "I've done all I can for her," she continued, her voice grave. "She's strong, though. I'll patch you up when I come back."

With those words, Shoko turned and exited the room, leaving Satoru alone with you. The weight of his guilt and the uncertainty of your condition hung in the air as he stood by your side.

Satoru was surprised when he arrived at the medical ward as usual, only to find your bed empty. Suguru had been sent on a mission, so he was alone. Shoko approached him, seeming to anticipate his concern.

"Yaga moved her back to her room this morning," Shoko informed him, her tone calm and professional. "Her wounds have completely healed. We're just waiting for her fever to break."

Satoru watched her walk off to the storage room. The news was somewhat of a relief, yet anxiety still gnawed at him, wondering how you were faring in your room. Quickly finding himself in an unexpected position, holding a tray of medical supplies in his arms, as Shoko suggested he go check on you.

"Why me?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, not exactly known for his caregiving skills.

"Because you care about her," Shoko replied matter-of-factly. "She's comfortable with you around. Now go."

Satoru sighed and made his way towards your room. This was not a situation he was accustomed to. But he couldn't deny that he cared about you, perhaps more than he'd care to admit.

Opening your door with a hesitancy he didn't usually experience. Inside, Satoru found you, lying still in your bed. As he got closer, he couldn't help but notice the returning color to your cheeks. The slow, steady rise and fall of your chest was a reassuring sight, and he took a deep breath, feeling a hint of relief.

Moving a chair next to your bed, he took a seat and set the tray of supplies aside, before watching over you. It was an unfamiliar situation for him. He wasn't used to caring for someone in this way. Satoru's usual self-confidence wavered as he sat there, silently willing your fever to break and for you to awaken.

He continued to remain in your room as the minutes stretching into hours. His usually composed exterior concealed the swirl of emotions he felt as he kept a vigilant eye on your peacefully resting form.

In a moment of somber realization, Satoru sat alone in your room, his gaze methodically moving across the minimalistic decor. It was a room void of the usual family photos and mementos, and that absence spoke volumes about the painful truth. His knowledge of the tragic night when Toji Fushiguro had brutally taken your parents' lives and nearly claimed your own had added a heavy layer of understanding to the room's emptiness.

As his piercing aquamarine eyes roamed your room, he couldn't help but marvel at your tenacity. You had faced the man who'd slaughtered your family and tried to take your life a second time. It was a story that gave new meaning to the word "strong."

Satoru found himself contemplating the meaning of strength. Until now, he had often defined it by raw power and cursed techniques, but your story had offered a different perspective. He couldn't help but have newfound respect for those he had once deemed weak. In your courage and resilience, he discovered the true essence of strength – the ability to confront the darkest aspects of life and emerge stronger.

The minimalistic decor of your room, the stark emptiness, seemed to resonate with the profound void that your heart might have felt after losing your family. The room felt almost too quiet, a stillness that mirrored the absence of those you loved. Yet, amidst this emptiness, a childishly decorated picture frame on your nightstand drew Satoru's attention.

As he picked up the frame and gazed at the photo within, a subtle, melancholic smile graced his lips. The picture showed you, your face lit up with pure joy, alongside two other children who were clearly not related by blood. Yet, the bond you shared in the photo was unmistakable. He assumed these must be your siblings despite the lack of any family resemblance.

It was an image of carefree happiness, the three of you captured at a lake, enjoying a beautiful day together. The laughter and pure joy on your faces were infectious. In that single photo, Satoru saw the essence of what you had been fighting for – a world where such moments of happiness and innocence could be preserved.

As Satoru sat by your side, a sudden, painful moan escaped your lips, immediately snapping his full attention back to you. He carefully set the picture frame aside and brought the back of his hand to your forehead, checking your temperature.

His brow furrowed with concern as he noted your fever was still elevated. He reached for the cooling towel that lay nearby and gently placed it on your forehead. He planned to change it shortly when a sharp gasp from you made him pause.

In an instant, his silent prayers were answered. Your eyes sprang open, still dark and hazy with sleep, but it was a sight that filled Satoru with immense relief.

"[Name], you're awake," he whispered, his voice laced with both surprise and happiness.

Concern filled his bright blue eyes as he noticed the panic in yours, and soon it was replaced by pure fear. He was about to ask if you were okay when you suddenly threw your arms around him.

"You're alive, Satoru..." you sobbed as you tightly held onto him, your cries quickly reminding him of the horrifying events that unfolded three days ago.

Satoru's heart skipped a beat at the mix of relief and fear in your actions. His arms slowly encircled you, holding you close. He knew that he had survived Toji's brutal attack, but the pain and trauma from that experience still lingered. In this moment, you were his lifeline, grounding him in the present.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice trembling with raw emotion, as he gently stroked your back. "I'm alive, and so are you."

Your [e/c] eyes filled with fear, and your heart raced as you anxiously questioned, "Where's Suguru? Did Toji get away?" Your breaths came out in frantic, panicked pants.

Satoru, with a protective instinct, pulled you even closer while you were already sitting in his lap. He held you tightly, his voice a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos. "Suguru's fine," he said with a calm yet comforting tone. "I took care of Toji."

You felt a mix of emotions flooding through you, and your voice trembled as you questioned, "Toji, is he...?" The words trailed off, the unspoken fear still lingering.

Satoru nodded reassuringly, confirming your unspoken fears. "He's gone."

Relief washed over you, and you felt tears of gratitude welling up in your [e/c] eyes. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of emotions, grateful that your friends were safe. In that moment, you clung to Satoru, thankful for his presence and protection, and the world began to regain its balance.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as you became more aware of your position. Flustered and embarrassed, you couldn't help but take note of the way his arms held you securely. Cheeks burning as you glanced down at the situation, realizing you were nestled in the crook of his neck, perched atop his lap.

Lifting your head slowly, you met Satoru's gaze, his aquamarine eyes filled with a mix of emotions. Your cheeks flushed, and you stammered, "I'm so sorry, Satoru, I didn't mean to... I mean, I didn't realize..."

He interrupted with a soft chuckle, "No need to apologize, [Name]. You just woke up, and you were scared. It's completely understandable.” A mix of embarrassment and gratitude washed over you as he continued to hold you in his strong, reassuring arms.

Satoru's thoughts were in turmoil as he held you close, your presence stirring something deep within him. He couldn't quite explain why he felt such a strong connection to you, drawn by an inexplicable warmth that seemed to radiate from your very being. But for now, he kept those feelings to himself, silently relishing the simple pleasure of having you safe in his arms.

————————————————

A whole year of intense training had passed, during which you, Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru had dedicated yourselves to honing your jujutsu skills. Under the guidance of the skilled Satoru Gojo, you had not only become proficient but had also developed a deeper understanding of your abilities. Days filled with relentless practice and nights of studying had gone by in a flash, and your progress was evident.

During this year, you had not only grown more powerful but also closer to Satoru. His expert guidance had become a beacon of inspiration for your development. You admired him not only for his incredible powers but also for the warmth he carried around him, a stark contrast to his often cheeky and carefree exterior. Your training sessions often felt more like bonding moments, and you had shared stories, laughter, and even moments of vulnerability.

Satoru's eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint as he stood before you, instructing the three of you to throw the stationary items you held at him, you and Shoko exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and curiosity in your eyes.

With a synchronized motion, you, Shoko, and Suguru hurled your items toward Satoru. What followed was nothing short of spectacular. Each item you threw hit an invisible barrier, stopped in its tracks. Your amazement was undeniable, and an enthusiastic "Wow!" escaped both you and Shoko as you witnessed this incredible display of power.

Satoru couldn't hide his cheeky grin as he revealed his ability to use Limitless nearly constantly. It was an awe-inspiring feat, but Shoko couldn't help but voice her concern. "You're gonna fry your brain like that," she skeptically noted.

Satoru, however, remained carefree and confident as ever. "I can also use my reverse curse technique around the clock, so I’ll always have a fresh brain," he cheekily informed you all.

"Now, [Name], show them what you've been working on," Satoru encouraged as he gestured for you to come forward. With a deep breath, you knelt down, placing your hands on the dry, dusty ground. A tingling sensation surged through your fingers as you channeled your curse energy.

In an instant, the earth beneath you transformed, blooming with fresh and vibrant flowers. Their sweet scent filled the air, intoxicatingly delightful, and Shoko and Suguru couldn't resist the allure of the blossoms. They happily walked among the vibrant petals, brushing them with their hands. Laughter bubbled from their lips as they fell to the ground, rolling in the flower-filled field, their giggles of joy filling the air. It was as if they'd been transported to a dreamlike meadow.

With a gentle smile, you ceased using your technique. The intoxicating haze of the flowers lifted, and Shoko and Suguru gradually returned to their senses. Their dreamy expressions transformed into confusion, and they jointly asked, "What just happened?"

"It's my ability! I can create a field of intoxicating flowers that will distract and, hopefully one day, subdue my opponent," you cheerfully explained, your newfound abilities a testament to your dedication and growth over the past year

Giggling as Shoko hugged you tight, she praised you, "Great job, my little [Name." Her laughter filling the warm summers air as she added, "Apparently, that idiot can actually teach, who would've thought?"

Satoru, annoyed by her playful jab, retorted quickly. The two of you shared a giggle, relishing the camaraderie. After slipping out of Shoko's hold, you made your way toward Suguru.

"Great job, [Name]," Suguru tenderly praised as he gently placed his hand atop your head. You flashed him a warm smile, feeling deeply grateful for the support from your friends.

"I couldn't have done any of this without you guys," you confessed, recognizing the integral role your friends played in your growth as a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

For a split second, you saw longing in Suguru's eyes. Concerned, you asked, "Are you okay, Suguru?" His blank gaze made you worry even more.

"Do you enjoy being a Jujutsu Sorcerer?" Suguru's quiet question hung in the air. His hand moved down, gently caressing your cheek before falling to his side. "Of course I do," you replied, concern evident in your tone as you met his gaze with your [e/c] eyes. "I'm able to learn and grow with all of you while helping those who are within my reach." You wanted to reassure him.

"You've lost weight. I know something's up. Talk to me," you tenderly offered, urging him to share his burdens.

"It's been extra hot out lately. I guess I'm just tired from the heat," Suguru softly answered. A wistful smile pulled at his lips before he turned to make his way back toward the dorms.

Your stomach twisted with knots as you watched him walk away, sensing that something was bothering your friend. Satoru couldn't help but notice the exchange between the two of you. His sharp eyes missed very little, and he had observed the conversation with a knowing look in his aquamarine irises.

As Suguru walked away, Satoru sauntered over to you with his usual swagger. "Something on Suguru's mind?" he inquired, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear, tone low and suggestive.

You sighed, your shoulders drooping as you glanced back in Suguru's direction. "I'm not sure. He's been acting strange lately, and I can't help but feel like he's hiding something. He said it's just the heat, but I don't think that's the real issue. Could you talk to him?”

Satoru, with a wry grin, responded, "Oh, don't you worry. I'll have a little chat with him. Suguru's a stubborn guy, but he can't resist the charm of yours truly."

His confidence was almost infectious, and you chuckled at his casual cockiness. "Thanks, Satoru. I appreciate it."

With that, he strolled away, headed in the direction Suguru had gone. You watched him for a moment before heading back towards the dorms, your mind filled with a mix of curiosity and concern.

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It was your first day alone in the medical sector, Shoko being away on a mission. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on your shoulders as you tried to maintain your composure.

As you prepared the metal table with a heavy heart, the room felt stifling. Shoko had taught you well, but today was a grim test of your abilities. The pale, lifeless figure of Haibara lay before you, a cruel reminder of the unforgiving world of curses.

Nanami, known for his calm and collected demeanor, had slumped into a chair, the loss of his best friend clearly shattering his composure. "Damn it, it was supposed to be a simple grade 2 curse..." his voice trembled with regret and anger. The weight of what had happened hung heavily on him, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sorrow for the man who had always been there to help you.

Suguru, too, bore a heavy heart.This loss had struck at the very core of your group, a stark reminder of the dangerous world you lived in. It was a somber moment, and as you prepared to do everything you could for your fallen comrade, a profound sadness settled over you all.

Your hands moved with a practiced precision as you began your work. As you operated, the memory of your younger brother, his kindness and innocence flashing before your eyes, creating a lump in your throat. You pushed your emotions aside, concentrating on piecing together what remained.

The room felt heavy with grief as you and Suguru worked together, covering Haibara with a white sheet. Suguru taking the initiative to gently suggest to Nanami, "Go get some rest, Nanami. Gojo is taking care of it."

Nanami, still overwhelmed by the loss of his friend, sighed heavily. "Why doesn't Gojo just take care of everything on his own? He's the strongest, after all."

As you washed your hands, you couldn't help but wonder to yourself, "Must he shoulder everything?" You knew Nanami’s words held no malice, but it left you wondering what being the strongest truly entailed in the world of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

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“After Geto's curse exorcism mission, there was no one left alive in the village. Evidence of Suguru's curse technique and its residuals were found at the scene. These disturbing events have led to him being labeled as a curse user, now facing execution.”

Yaga's grim revelation sent a shiver down your spine. You and Satoru exchanged incredulous glances. "What?" Satoru questioned, his voice filled with disbelief.

Yaga continued, "From the looks of it, his parents' home is also empty, and with the leftover remains we found, it appears he had done the same to them as the villagers." He concluded with a heavy sigh.

Your stomach coiled with dread, as you hurried down the hall and out of the doors, yearning for the solace of fresh air. It was hard to comprehend the shocking revelation about one of your most trusted friends. The information swirled chaotically in your mind, leaving you feeling uneasy, was it really the Suguru you knew who had committed such a heinous act?

The weight of everything that had transpired since your move to Japan suddenly bore down on you as you rushed back to your dorm room; found your running shoes, quickly changed, and headed to one of the parks Suguru had shown you on one of your off days. His words from that day echoing in your mind as you rushed there.

"The next time I come here, I'll have made my decision."

You were nearly out of breath as you raced around the expansive park, tall green trees surrounded you as their leaves blew peacefully in the wind.

"Hey [Name]," Suguru softly greeted as he approached you from behind. Tears welled up in your eyes; your friend looked so different from who you had come to know and love. His usual warm violet eyes were now dark and distant. Tears welled up in your eyes as you questioned him, "Did you really do it?"

The silence hung in the air for a moment before Suguru let out a heavy sigh, "It was me”

His confirmation sent fear coursing through your veins. Suguru had always been the voice of reason, the one who showed kindness even to those who didn't deserve it. You had looked up to him as a pillar of strength and morality, and now, that image was shattered.

“Your own parents? How could you, Suguru?" Your voice quivered, laced with a mix of disbelief and sorrow.

Suguru's eyes, once warm and kind, now seemed cold and distant. "I want to create a world of only Jujutsu Sorcerers. Those who can evolve and awaken their curse energy should survive, and those who can't... they don't belong. My parents couldn't be exceptions if I was going to make this a reality."

Your voice cracked as the painful memories rushed back. "You've seen how cruel and painful it is. I had to witness both my parents get murdered and endure near-fatal injuries to awaken my curse energy. How can you be so heartless, especially to your own parents?"

The park's serene surroundings felt like a surreal backdrop for this heart-wrenching conversation. Suguru's indifference contrasted sharply with the peaceful nature that surrounded you.

"To live in a world without curses... a world of true peace," Suguru began, attempting to rationalize his actions.

But you couldn't accept this justification. "I understand that our lives as Jujutsu Sorcerers are filled with pain and far from fair," you said, your voice steady, "but I've also seen human lives that endure their own forms of cruelty. It's not for us to pass judgment on the innocent. Our existence is simply the luck of the draw."

As your words hung in the air, it was clear that Suguru's path and your beliefs had irrevocably diverged.

"Please don't go," you tearfully pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. But Suguru had already turned his back to you, and he walked away, disappearing into the bustling city streets.

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Returning to campus as the sun began to set, you were greeted by Satoru as he waited for you by the gate. The two of you walked back toward your dorm in heavy silence, the weight of Suguru's defection pressing on your shoulders like an unbearable load.

Standing by your dorm room door, you turned to face Satoru, your eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. Tears welled up in your [e/c] eyes, and your voice quivered as you made a heartfelt promise. "Satoru, I promise... I'll bear the burdens that I can for you," you confessed, your voice heavy with the weight of the situation and your determination to support him. Tears streamed down your [s/t] cheeks, revealing the depth of your commitment.

Satoru's tender, teasing voice reached your ears. "You're such a crybaby, [Name]," he remarked as he gently wiped the tears from your face, his touch reassuring and affectionate. Then, he enveloped you in his arms, and your body instinctively relaxed into his embrace. In that moment, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you reciprocated by hugging him back, finding comfort in his closeness.

The warmth of your connection, the tears, and the shared pain all formed a powerful bond between you two. It was as though your hearts were intertwined, providing solace and understanding in the face of the overwhelming future that lay ahead.

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Hi loves! I hope you enjoyed this chapter,tell me what you think in the comments and thank you for all the love this story has received I’m overwhelmed but all the support!

As always, much love xoxo

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