#sorry about the potential typos

[palmastrings]

Possible demon form headcanon thingy??

Ok so you know the saying "you've got blood on your hands" As a metaphor for being guilty of something?

Well I took the idea and ran with it to make this.

They kinda work like brands in the sense that they are constant reminders of ones sins. I know this kinda exist in real life in a sense but it wasn't my intention to mimic that.

But umm... only people who were/are angels can get them. The Higher up the marks go, the more grave the sin was.

I kinda wanted to match it up with lesson 37 of nightbringer where *spoiler* the brothers get imprisoned in a area designated to the crime they committed in the celetial relm.

So for example, lucifers goes almost all the way up his arm because of his crime against his father (being the worst crime of all), while belphies goes to the wrist for (some reason I forgot) for being less severe. Simeon has them too but the only reach his fingertips, it's why he always wears gloves.

Technically speaking Satan shouldnt have the marks since he was born a demon, but since he was kinda a extention of lucifers sin of wrath, lucifer split some of his mark with him, which is why lucifers mark dosent actually go past his arm.

[mawrrbid]

Def didn't spend my whole afternoon + half of the evening on these... Absolutely not. My arm and wrist hurt so much, please send help.

It took me so much time to get xyr design right. TT

I kind of wish it was more detailed, but honestly outfit design is not my strong point so I'll settle for this, maybe in a year or so xe will have a better one.

Hope y'all will like this absolute dumbass. <3

Character bio & stats charts by Red Spring Studio

Character relationship chart by micarxena

Full sprite under the cut!

[bloomeng]

“Genshin character designs are bad.”

You really can’t navigate through the Genshin fandom without hearing this take. It’s stale at this point, but it’s…. also true. Except that’s usually not what people are actually saying. The true question up for debate: Are Genshin character designs ugly?

It irks me because there is validity to the original statement, and yet the conversation immediately moves into the territory of strictly opinion, leaving the true discussion never to be had.

So I’m having it… with myself…. in the form of a long post, because actually I find Genshin an interesting character design case study.

Before I really get into it I must address the elephant in the room; are Genshin’s character designs colorist?

Yes. Moving on.

Okay, okay, I’ll address it a little, Genshin has a problem with colorism. It’s a fiercely debated topic and honestly it’s one of the only real valid discussions I see around Genshin’s designs. That being said, I have nothing new to add to the conversation. If you don’t know why, sorry I’m not qualified to answer that, but you’re in luck because tons of qualified people have explained it across all platforms.

What I am partially equipped to talk about is character design. I’m no expert but I have taken a few formal classes on the subject, so I do have some insight to share. Character design at its core is usually quantified by how much of a character’s personality can be clearly determined from sight alone and how recognizable their silhouette is (though I’m not gonna touch on that today). Now there’s a lot of factors that go into both, but the fundamental thing that contributes to both is something known as shape language.

Shape has meaning. What that meaning is often depends on culture factors that determine your associations, but the Western simplification of shape is that circles are good-natured, rectangles/ squares are reliable, and triangles are energized. (these are my own personal words for them, there are countless ways to go about describing these associations) Shapes are then combined with each other to create more complex associations, and so on and so forth. It’s impossible to create a character without evoking some form of shape language, because art at its core is just shapes. The classic example are the round shapes seen in Mickey Mouse, though often times it’s far more subtle, like how Barbie has soft, round lines in her hair and face, but her hourglass figure is comprised of triangles to tell you she’s sexy, but the soft curves say she’s sweet not sexual— and it quickly gets very complicated. Basically character designs are rarely comprised of one shape alone, and when combined the “vibes” they evoke become complex.

So what does this have to do with Genshin? Genshin has poor shape language. The most obvious example of this are the faces. Genshin has same face syndrome, which I partially contribute to budget constraints with the models seeing as they reuse them over and over. Though it also has a lot to do with Genshin’s need for their characters to be conventionally attractive. Everyone must be beautiful and, as the current trend in anime artstyles dictates, not look a day over 12. The only thing that changes is the eye shape, but even then, it really doesn’t. There’s diversity between the male and female models, but calling it diversity seems generous, because they are practically the same. All the viewer has to go on to differentiate between faces are the expressions (and color but we’ll get there), which are also limited by the models.

The poor quality of the shape language continues into the bodies, seeing as the only thing that really changes is the height, not a lot of room for show casing contrast. (Also body diversity is just a good thing to have for the sake of having body diversity.) Visual contrast is one of the key things good shape language should deliver. It’s within this contrast that the viewer will have the opportunity to compare and thus make these associations. One character design may tell you things based on previous knowledge but it’s like an experiment without a control group.

Then we get to the character’s outfits and hairstyles. While it’s true there is a fair amount of diversity in clothing, the shape language continues to falter. Genshin characters have so much going on constantly in their designs that it seems like that should provide plenty of opportunities to showcase personality. Unfortunately what ultimately happens is that the details compete amongst themselves so much that they overshadow any sort of unified message they might have had about who this character is. Basically there’s too many different shapes. They don’t create a pattern and therefore don’t form any strong associations. You can have a good design with a lot of details but they should communicate a pattern together. A design is not good simply because it has a lot of detail. I will say there are definitely times where the clothing and hair do actually come through to tell me stuff about the character, but overall this over designing tends to be a detriment.

Genshin’s hair while in different styles usually relies on the same type of pointy strands and blunt edges.

(these characters were randomly selected to prove my point that you can quite literally pick any character in genshin and they will have at least one of these two components)

On their own pointy strands might tell us something, but considering every character has them, the pattern within a single character is rendered moot. “If everyone’s super, no one is.” Of course how they choose to wear their hair does speak to the character but its effect is limited when the structure of the hair is fundamentally the same. And then when you consider that the styling of many of these hairstyles doesn’t actually say a whole lot, it becomes obvious that Genshin is more concerned with creating hair that stands out. The problem is that details, asymmetry for example, normally tell us about the character, but considering so many hairstyles utilize asymmetry, it looses its meaning. Overall I will say I think Genshin is more of a 50/50 toss up on whether or not the hair suits the character.

I want to take a moment to point out a couple hair style designs in Genshin I think are really lovely and work very well.

And now I would like to do the same with some outfits.

(honorable mention to Bennett for being over accessorized in a way that actually tells you about his personality (goggles, a scar, bandaids, work gloves, utility belt), to Barbara for somehow mashing the concept of a nun and an idol together, to Klee for her childish whimsy and finally to Scaramoche for the sheer amount of subtle character growth motifs fit into all three of his outfits (the cultural stuff is really cool too))

Genshin I will say does a great job of creating and repeatedly using the elemental imagery as well as Khaneira’ah’s star. I also appreciate that every Archon has that ombre hair shift that glows during their burst. Makes them feel unique.

I think Genshin shines the brightest when they successfully incorporate cultural elements into their designs however, the only nation that does this with any sort of consistency is Inazuma. Inazuma’s aesthetic is so instantly recognizable. No one dresses exactly the same, but there are common through lines in the shoes, the style of the armor, and patterns in the clothes. (The design aesthetic is so strong that even after Scara got a Sumeru makeover he managed to keep elements that were clearly identifiable as Inazuman) Every other nation falls short in this department. I will give credit to the knights as there is some level of consistency in their designs, mostly in the metallic detailing; not quite a uniform but there is some commonality. Liyue does have cultural influence that definitely shows but it suffers from an overall lack of consistency in aesthetic, and doesn’t lean into its Chinese inspiration the same way Inazuma does. Mondstadt on the other hand is just vaguely European, but also half the time not even.

And then there’s Sumeru. I distinctly remember looking at the full Sumeru cast the first time and thinking that none of the them looked like they came from the same place. (It’s almost as if Sumeru is based on a bunch of separate countries that are culturally very different.) Pretty much no character has any real ties to any any real culture, but instead they just sorta grab vague elements. And at its worse just leans into orientalism (Nilou and Dori). I think personality wise the designs do a fairly stable job of saying at least something about their characters (Dehya and Kaveh). The designs do well individually but between the vague references and inconsistencies they falter. (I will say Cyno’s whole design being a reference to Yu-Gi-Oh is both hilarious, charming, and also mildly appropriative.)

On the topic of appropriation I think it’s important to note that Inazuma suffers from this too. While I absolutely love the way a lot of Japanese elements were integrated, outfits like Yae Miko’s shrine maiden garb bring forth this sexualization of cultural dress that I’m not particularly fond of. But then again you can also critique Rosaria’s sexy nun design for the same thing.

I also want to touch on something briefly because it’s important to note, but it’s a separate, much bigger conversation; Genshin, like anime, falls into a trap of catering their style to lolicon and shotacon enjoyers. It’s the reason all the characters look so young, why all the age discourse exists, why they refuse to confirm ages, and why all the children with the toddler model have some weird age work around. I don’t like it. It’s gross.

Another brief mention because it’s its own conversation; the female characters in Genshin are often over sexualized. Their clothes are skin tight, they almost always have weird random cut-outs, their skirts and dresses are designed to show off their breasts and asses, and all of their designs are high fem regardless of their personality. Give a female character baggy pants Genshin I dare you. Dori doesn’t count, she’s a toddler model in just a bra. I don’t have a problem with a female character being hot, but when that’s the only requirement…. it’s tiring. The classic female character design video game debate…. yah.

I think my overarching issue with Genshin’s clothing design is it says nothing about whose these people are. What jobs do they do? What do these accessories say about them personally? Take Yanfei. She’s a lawyer, yet nothing about her outfit speaks to that in the slightest. I remember the first time I sat down and looked at all the playable characters with a friend of mine. I didn’t play at the time and we thought it would be fun to see if I could guess their personalities. As you can imagine I did pretty poorly, and that’s because these designs just don’t suggest a whole lot.

And then we get to color.

Color is probably the most complicated part of art let alone character design. I feel as though we all have some familiarity with the concept of color coding in character design. The classic red/blue character foils. Color often suggests specific traits similar to the way shape language does, except unlike shape language color coding doesn’t always apply. You can’t just assign a character a color and call it coding, the character has to physically have that color on them in some significant manner. For example Naruto is clearly an orange coded character. He appears in the color throughout the series, but I couldn’t classify Eren Yeager as a green coded character even if it suited his personality (which it doesn’t) because it’s a uniform everyone wears. Attack on Titan does not evoke color coding the way Naruto does, so it’s not applicable.

With Genshin color is complicated. Genshin does have an established color pattern for all the elements, but not every character wears the color of their element. Now normally I would say just having a color pattern for the elements wouldn’t be enough to justify character color coding (since it would fall back into the uniform category), but in Genshin their visions connect to their personalities, so therefore the color of the elements is connected to them. For some the color coding is very obvious (Kaeya & Diluc) and for others it’s practically nonexistent (Yun Jin & Heizou). In all honestly I don’t know what to make of this other than Genshin is inconsistent in their elemental color coding but always consistent in their high saturation. Because color is complicated and a weaker area of mine it is equally likely that I’m missing something or that Genshin isn’t coding anything and it’s all pure aesthetics.

Which brings me to my final point; aesthetics. Hoyo as a company cares that you spend money. That is the number one goal at the end of the day. That’s why all their characters are conventionally attractive, why their art style is the way it is, why their shape language suffers, and why their outfits are overly detailed. It’s all about aesthetics. As a brand Genshin cares less about their story and more about how pretty their characters look, because if their characters are pretty then you’ll spend money. It’s not like Hoyo designed characters with bad shape language because they were ignorant. They knew exactly what they were doing when they sculpted every last visually pleasing strand of pointy hair.

Which brings me back to the real question that people were actually arguing over in the first place; are Genshin characters ugly?

I can’t answer that question. I mean they weren’t designed to be ugly, but if they don’t appeal to your taste, then to you they are ugly. But it’s more important to understand that “bad” and “ugly” are not the same. Genshin character designs are bad by professional standards but that doesn’t mean you can’t like them. Genshin designs can be both bad and likable, bad and pretty, bad and cute. Those are two vastly different things. It’s the same way people adore cult classic movies. They’re not good in the eyes of a critic, otherwise they wouldn’t be niche. They’re cult classics because people like them. Personal taste is just that. Personal.

But the most important question of all; do I like the Genshin Impact character designs?

I didn’t use to but I gotta say, they’ve grown on me.

[kicksnscribs]

If i cannot find a way to crack the source code for the switch pokemon games then by God i WILL recreate that shit line by lovable line in Unity or Godot idngaf i WILL make me a 3d pokemon game lol

[brightwoods]

Does anyone else feel like almost all of the conflicts that had to do with the various character dynamics in Chain of Thorns didn’t actually get resolved, they just unexplainably ceased to exist after two books of building them up because CC didn’t feel like writing them anymore and she didn’t know how to resolve it naturally after how she’d built the issues up so much?

Like how none of the characters but Cordelia and Thomas had any clue about the Alastair and Charles situation and then suddenly in CoT it was like who doesn’t know? Of course Matthew knew and didn’t say anything before and then randomly brought it up to Cordelia in Paris while assuming she knew too

Or how Alastair and Thomas went from how things were at the end of CoI with Alastair thinking it could never work because Thomas’s friends hate him to oh look everyone suddenly is friends with Alastair with no grudge with no development of that in this book at all, just an abrupt shift

Especially the Alastair and Matthew dynamic where Matthew hated Alastair and wanted him to have nothing to do with any of their friends and he spent CoI ranting about him to Cordelia. And then suddenly in CoT it’s like of course Matthew is supportive of Thomas and Alastair and oh look Matthew and Alastair are suddenly not just tolerating each other for Thomas’s sake but friends despite barely interacting and no development actually showing and never getting any mention of the other in their own POVs, just having Cordelia be like Alastair stop being dumb, you’re literally friends with him now

Or like everyone other than Christopher and Grace where it was like oh we don’t like her for how she’s treated us and her friends straight to anyway she’s one of us. Like yes Grace was useful and yes Tatiana manipulated her whole life, but none of that was why anyone changed their minds or opinions? It was just suddenly the flip of a switch when it was convenient for CC

Or Anna and Ariadne where it didn’t so much develop as Anna just acted mean to Ariadne on and off throughout the series and at the end of CoI she wanted nothing to do with a relationship and then in CoT she was just suddenly like sure I guess I do. Also, slightly different note, but I did not like that Anna barely interacted with anyone else for the entire book and she was just off in the corner being an irrelevant romantic subplot for almost all of the book except when she showed up to barely even be shown in the background being sad about her brother being dead

(Although Anna still got more of a reaction than everyone else and his death was poorly executed all around in the sense of how did you write this so predictably and poorly that no one even knows when he died and it’s so background and 99% of the characters don’t care at all and we don’t see his parents finding out or much of Thomas’s reaction or anything and it’s just as if he wasn’t a character anymore 2 seconds later which is a different genre of issue with CoT but similar problem in the sense that both issues made the book feel a lot more emotionless to read)

And how the issues of Thomas and Alastair being together as two men and Anna and Ariadne being together as two women in this time and the issues of what would happen if the fact that Charles and Alastair were gay got out to the entire Clave just disappeared and never got addressed at all. We know how the ClVe reacted to Alec Lightwood YEARS later. We know society was homophobic at the time TLH is set and that it seems like shadowhunter society was a lot less open-minded than mundanes a century later

I understand that Charles being blackmailed and making shitty decisions was annoying but it was like suddenly everyone finding out wouldn’t have consequences and all the other queer men characters were like how could you possibly be worried about this :/ as if they haven’t spent the whole series knowing they have to be careful about who they tell. And then suddenly it was just of course it’s totally fine and safe to have everyone find out and why wouldn’t you be fine with that. And it was really written in a way that had other queer characters like oh Charles is such a coward for not being ready to publicly tell a bunch of homophobic people his sexuality and it just wasn’t it??? And super weird after Thomas was terrified of telling even Anna and Matthew for years. And also, I did not care for the fact that when Charles did go risk getting outed to finally do the right thing, we didn’t even get to see it through any character’s perspective or how that important meeting went, we just got one line of dialogue from somebody else saying that it happened with no details at all. And I can’t think of other examples right now but there were quite a few moments like that where we got one line saying that something had happened that was important to the plot and to characters’ development that seemed like it would have been more interesting than some of what we did get to see where it was just totally breezed over and way too easy and totally background to less important stuff

And then there was the whole no one reacting to Ariadne and Anna dancing together publicly thing was like yeah that’s nice I guess but not realistic and it doesn’t go with the way things have been presented up to that point, it also just feels like a situation where CC was like well this would be easier for me so there just won’t be consequences and then they can easily end up happily together

And then there was the whole Thomas and Alastair thinking they couldn’t realistically be together thing and knowing they couldn’t get married or be known to be together by anyone they’re not close to and then at the end it’s still not really addressed how they’re going to be together? Like there was the laziest write off of the family tree being wrong and then we still are just left to assume that eventually they move in together and suddenly it’s not a problem and everyone’s fine with it? And then I also feel like we don’t actually know if everyone found out about Alastair and Charles’ sexualities after the blackmail or if people are going to assume about Thomas and Alastair or if that’ll cause issues or if no one knows outside of who they’ve told and they have to be careful or what. Which like wouldn’t necessarily need to be addressed if it wasn’t for the logistics of being together as two men in that time being part of the obstacle that they were struggling with being in their way and then it felt like it was totally forgotten to even be one at the end by CC

Idk like I’d love to think they just lived in a world where homophobia didn’t exist but it felt like homophobia was a plot point when CC wanted it to be an inconvenience and then suddenly disappeared just to make her writing easier the moment she didn’t want it there anymore instead of actually addressing the plots she raised with it if that makes sense?

And sorry, I really did not mean to go on a rant this long. And maybe everyone else had a very different reading experience than I did and other people don’t agree with some or all of this. I personally am just very confused about how the book was almost 800 pages long and it felt like so much of the development in it was us abruptly being told that development had happened rather than actually getting to see it and how so many of the issues were abruptly solved in an I don’t want to write this issue anymore kind of way rather than anything actually needing to be worked at outside of the Belial situation

Edit: You know what, I mentioned it in my tags but I feel like it’s annoying enough to put in the body of the post and make it even longer. What the fuck was with everyone outing or potentially outing everyone else just so that characters could openly talk about the queer characters and tell them to do what they want them to? Why did Matthew out his brother multiple times? Like yes, the people he said it to coincidentally already knew, but he didn’t know that. And why was Thomas outing Alastair? The straights got to keep their secrets as long as they wanted and fix their problems more naturally. Why did I have to sit through queer characters constantly having their sexualities and romantic histories to everyone else when they clearly had not okayed it? Why were the queer characters doing so much of the outing? Why were people who cared about them and knew what it felt like to be afraid of the wrong person finding out just broadcasting their sexualities to make it easier for CC to breeze past development to have their things get resolved fast? Why did no character have an issue with it at all?

[milawritess]

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow — Gojo Satoru

pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

synopsis: crushed by the pressure of his work, Satoru and the reader's relationship begins to spiral. You do everything you can to make him happy, but you fear it's not enough. Maybe it never was. After a miscalculation that could have resulted in innocent lives being lost, the situation takes a turn for the worse.

Word count: 17k+ (I'm sorry in advance)

genre: heavy angst with happy ending

warnings: heavy angst, swearing, reader is a motherly figure to Megumi but their relationship is a bit strained, mentions of depression and self-doubt, reader is a sorcerer, fighting, insecurity, arguments, and breakups (?), descriptions of gore, mentions of sexual intercourse (mdni), depictions of a complicated and untraditional relationship, reader gets hurt, hardly edited/proofread (oops), gojo is fed up and mean :(

a/n: this is the first and longest thing I've ever posted on here lol. I felt like there was a lack of sorcerer!reader, so I played around with that concept a little bit. other than potentially shitty writing (sorry for any typos or grammatical errors), I truly hope you enjoy <3

sequel & blurbs

“Get out.”

The hash sentiment lingers, hanging heavily in the air. 

“Well, hello to you too.”

He hears your feet shuffle across the floor as you stumble to take your shoes and coat off. “I just came to check on you.”

“And I’m fine,” he responds without moving, one arm up, draping over his aching eyes. He lies on the living room couch, one lanky leg propped up at an angle.

“You’re clearly not fine,” you respond, seeming unphased. “Have you eaten anything?” You ask, waiting for a response that never comes. “Okay, I’ll make your favorite ramen.” 

He feels the side of the couch dip, your hand settling on his chest. Your fingers were greedy like you couldn’t stop yourself from playing with the fabric or caressing his taut muscles. Your voice is gentler when you speak this time. “Do you want an ice pack? Some tea?”

You two have done this dance before. You come home to find him exhausted, overworked with a migraine that could tranquilize an elephant. And just like always, you carefully slip his shoes off and unbutton the sleek black jacket to his uniform. It’s hard for him to stay mad about anything when you’re this kind, this caring. 

“Satoru, please say something.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

Your voice was so gentle. So sweet, saccharine, and so fucking patient. A voice you only ever reserved for him and for his ears only. A gentle whisper carried in a gentle breeze. It was his favorite sound. 

But not tonight. 

So you try something else. Sweet kisses along the corner of his lips. You’re even bold enough to move his arm, the arm he was using to desperately block out any light or simulation. You kiss his eyelids, his forehead, and cheeks—feather-light. Your hand slides up his chest before reaching his face. You caress your thumb under his closed eyes, and your other hand finds his hair, gently massaging his temple. He has all of you. Every bit. 

“Let me take care of you.” If it were any other night, your breath fanning his neck would have shattered him; goosebumps would have wrecked his body, he’d shiver, and everything in him would ease, and all of his stress would slip away into nothingness. He never had to be the strongest with you. You would render him down to nothing but a simple man with just a few words. “You don’t look too good, honey. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” For a woman so strong in your own right, a woman of unyielding dignity and poise and unwavering determination to succeed, this is his favorite side of you. 

But not tonight. 

When his hand clasps your wrist, he feels your whole body freeze against his. Maybe you were surprised. Maybe you predicted this and were preparing yourself but-

The tongue-lashing dies in his throat when he opens his eyes. Just a peak to your face makes him falter. You were pouting. Worried. “I’m fine.” it’s harsher than you deserve but kinder than the thoughts swirling through his head a second ago. 

He’s agitated. Stuck in the same old system that continues to fuck him over—his students over. 

And yet, you just looked too beautiful. 

You pull away, finally taking the hint. Then, you stand, fully removing yourself from him and stepping away. Your body heat quickly disappears from where you once sat, and he quivers. The room was quiet once again. 

The room remained quiet even as you placed a hot bowl of ramen on the table beside him, a glass of water, and two pills. 

You slept alone that night. 

-

You remember when you first met Megumi. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

You never would have expected that to be the the words from a child you had just met. You raised a brow. “Well, aren’t you a fucking, brat?” 

You were different back then—colder, angrier. You were similar in that sense.

Oddly enough, maybe that’s what gravitated him to you.  

You’re not sure when it happened, but gradually, the harsh edges of you began to… change. Not entirely softened, as thorns remained, but you bloomed, red petals and all. You grew softer, kinder, more patient—and finally—your heart had made space for others. The fear of loss remained, but you had never cared for someone so fragile. No one had ever cried for you, reached for you with small chubby fingers, or depended on you as he once had. You never had someone in your life that needed to be nurtured, protected, and guided. 

He was just a boy. 

Over time, you realized that if you remained unchanged, perhaps he would never grow into the man he needed to be. You’re not sure why he picked you, why he looked up to you of all people, but he did. He found comfort in you and followed you like a little duckling with a little waddle and permanent scowl. 

There wasn't a rhyme or reason. He chose you, and you chose him. 

Soon enough, you were waking him up for school, running your hands through his messy, dark locks. You were making him bento boxes, running to parent-teacher conferences, and having hard but meaningful conversations with him in his room about his troubling behavior. 

Then you were hugging him as he cried, as he revealed the same dark thoughts you once had about yourself. 

You wished this world wasn’t so cruel, so dark. You hope that in a different life, he would have grown into a normal kid, with hopes and dreams and a list of things he wanted to do and go out and experience. You didn’t want him to be shackled to a world that’s left you so scarred.

You fought for any sense of normality you could give him. If that meant confronting the higher-ups, so be it. At times, you even confronted Satoru. 

He was just a boy. 

Fire never harmed you;  it never dared to scorch your skin. You commanded and held domination over nearly every flicker of heat. He was so small when you met him; you remember the first time you saw his small form shiver in the cold. It made you anxious. Despite buying him the heaviest winter coat you could find, you were beside yourself, always wondering—is he warm enough? 

But, long were the days of you bundling him up in his jacket, tying his shoes, and tugging beanies over his dark hair and red ears. Long were the days of you clasping his little hands in yours to bring them warmth when the air grew too bitter. He grew older, smarter, wiser, and stronger. The boy that used to cling to your skirt after a hard day at school now stood inches taller than you. 

You knew that one day he’d leave you, and you were okay with that. Seeing him so ready for the world made you happy. You worried—of course you still worried—but you were so proud. He was hesitant, unsure at times, and sometimes even looked back to you for assurance. 

You were always there, smiling, ushering him along. 

You can do it. I believe in you. 

You grew up together, you think. Sometimes, you wondered if he ever paid for your shortcomings, or if he remembered your failures as a caregiver, but just like you did him, he’d assure you with a soft nudge and a gentle smile. 

He knows you did the best you could with what you had.  

He was just a boy. 

Your boy. 

He wasn’t yours, but you loved him like he was. Only as he grew did you realize the lines you had crossed. 

He doesn’t remember his mother, but you’re sure he remembered her smile, perhaps her touch, or the sound of her laughter. You never meant to impose on her memory.

When it happened, he had just gotten into Tokyo Jujutsu High, and Satoru took him on his first official mission. You no longer had the means of pushing this off; you couldn’t beg Satoru or the higher-ups for another month, another week, another day. Megumi wasn’t a normal kid. He was a sorcerer and needed to start fulfilling his duties and mastering his technique.

“You can’t avoid the inevitable. You can’t protect him forever,” Satoru had once told you. 

You knew he was right. 

You stayed home that day, anxious and worried, but you knew Megumi would be alright. Satoru was with him. Even if the tall man was a bit harder on Megumi than you, you knew he’d keep him safe. 

However, your worst fears came to fruition. Megumi wasn’t the same after that mission. 

You remember. Satoru’s eyes were stern that night while Megumi's eyes never left the floor as he made his way to his room. 

You remember thinking—what could I do to make my boys happy again? 

After all, they were your everything, the reason you stood here now with a full heart. Things were newer for you and Satoru then, but he kissed you that night, warm, large hands gently holding your cheeks. He missed you a little bit extra that day. You were nervous, hesitant to fall into the sanctuary of his embrace, but it was only a matter of time until you were fully, devotedly his.

 “Are you okay?” You had asked, only for him to nod his head. 

“Yeah. Of course, I am, angel. Megumi is shaken up, but he’ll be alright too.” 

You made Megumi’s favorite dinner that night—the same beefsteak he’s raved about since he was only six. Well, he never raved, but you perfectly remember the first time you made it, which happened to be the first time he tried it. He could barely get his chin over the table to scope his food into his mouth. He wasn’t good with chopsticks yet, so he used a little fork, which he held in his tiny fist. His little eyebrows raised before dipping down, creasing at the inner corners as he concentrated on the flavor. He murmured it’s good, and you remember being so proud of yourself. That was one of the first times you felt that you were doing something right by him. You made the same dish on occasion, and time only helped you perfect the recipe. 

Megumi never came out of his room that night. The lights were off when you knocked. Even after hearing no response, you had cracked open the door, poking your head inside. 

“Gumiii,” you stepped into his room. He was on his bed, groaning as you flicked the light on. He turned his back to you. “I made your favoriteee.”  

You had sat on the edge of his bed, a hot plate of food in your hands. “C’mon, it’s the beefsteak you like. Nice and warm.”

“‘m not hungry,” he had grumbled. 

You sighed. “The mission must have been unpleasant.” He remained still. “I’m sorry, Gumi. Satoru said you did well! I’m proud of you—” he flinched from your touch, snapping his arm away from your reach. You froze, having felt the coldness of his rejection. “If you don’t want to talk about the mission, how was your first day at your new school?” You asked. “Do you have any classmates you like?”

“Just quit it already…” he had murmured. “I’m not in the mood.”

Your shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re okay. My first mission was tough too, and you already know I wasn’t great at making friends either–” you winced, biting your tongue.  This was coming out all wrong. “… are you okay, Megumi?” 

“I’m fine!” He clipped, pushing himself upright in bed. “Just leave me alone and stop acting like you’re my mom already!”  

You remembered—and just the memory of that night shambled your heart. You could never forget the hurt those words caused and how you couldn’t show it. 

You had smiled wearily. Then, you placed his dinner on his desk. “…you’re right,” you echoed. “I’m not her, never could be. I’m sorry if I imposed. I never meant to.”

You never spoke of the incident, but you remembered that things were tense between Satoru and Megumi for a short while after that. You told Satoru to drop it, but you had a feeling the poor boy received a tongue-lashing from Satoru. You were never sure, though, and you could never prove it. 

You just remembered feeling cracks in the foundation of the home you never knew you had so carefully crafted, brick by brick. Some of the warmth was gone—a warmth you never knew was quite there until it wasn’t. 

Little by little, you pulled back. Megumi moved into the student dorms shortly after, and he needed you less and less. You no longer made him bento boxes or his favorite beefsteak. You bit your tongue with the lectures: Megumi, that’s not nice, or Megumi, you need to have more faith in yourself. You can do it.  

Though the bitter bite of cold never entirely touched you, heated by an unquenchable fame, you pulled back your hand when you reached for him. He left you seared—burned. 

You still worried. You never knew if you were giving him too much or not enough. So, you left most of the mentoring to Satoru now.  It’s been a few months since the incident, and now you only ever speak to him if he approached you first. 

That's why you were happy when you spotted him in town. You offered him a small, shy wave. He unexpectedly approached you and asked how you were and what you’d been up to. However, the most unexpected part was when he asked if you were busy. You shook your head, and it was impossible to hide you beam when he offered to get you hot chocolate from the same coffee shop you used to take him to after school in the colder months.

However, it seemed you weren’t the only one confused by Satoru’s recent behavior. 

“Huh?”

“Gojo didn’t want me going on my mission,” Megumi reiterated. 

You blink a few times, tapping your fingers against the styrofoam cup in your hands. “Huh. He’s never done that before.”

“He doesn’t think I’m ready. He took the mission himself.”

“He said that? That he doesn’t think you’re ready?”

“Well… not exactly.” He scowls slightly, looking down at the cup of hot chocolate. “But he damn well implied it.”

“Gumi,” you frown at the boy. He doesn’t make eye contact with you; he looks forward now, gazing out the window and watching the fresh snow coat the ground. 

He was upset. 

“He could’ve at least taken me with him.”

For a moment, you see that same little boy you met over ten years ago and that same dejected look on his face after being let down one too many times. It breaks your heart. 

“If Satoru took the mission and went alone, I’m sure it’s for a good reason.”

He wants to say more but opts for something quick and sweet. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You have to do something. Quick. Anything to make him a bit happier. “I have a mission later in Osaka. I’ll be catching the 2 pm train. Wanna come? I could use the extra help.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking, you presume, but he nods. “Yeah, sure. I don’t have anything else to do.” 

“Great! And just so you know, we’ll probably be dealing with a grade one or two.” 

He pauses momentarily before calmly asking, “And you need help with that?”

“Uh, yeah. Any help is much appreciated. Plus, I haven’t seen you much recently.” You smile brightly, and he turns his head, eyes finding the ground, looking a little bashful. 

“About that…” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave him off. “You’ve been busy with school, and I know that.”

“But that’s not–”

“It’s okay, Megumi,” you smile again, resisting the urge to reach across the table and gently squeeze his hand. “I get it.”

He gives you a look, a small disgruntled scowl. He wanted to say more.

“Alrighty then.” You stand, stretching from sitting in the chair. “I’ll buy you another hot chocolate for the road. We should probably start getting ready to leave.”

-

The mission goes well. An abandoned warehouse in Osaka conjured up a nasty looking grade three, but Megumi held his own just fine—like you expected. He’s grown much stronger and more sure of himself. You’re proud. Seeing how far he’s come certainly puts a smile on your face. He’s not a little boy anymore, you realized. He’s growing into a fine young man. 

Urg. Stop getting emotional. 

However, after stopping for a later dinner, you both arrived home late, around nine or so. 

“You did good tonight, Megumi,” you tell him for the nth time. 

He rolls his eyes, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. “You’ve told me that already.”

“I know, I know. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of you. You’re getting so much stronger.”

Instead of brushing you off like all the other times, he sighs before offering a forced “thanks.” 

“Alrighty then. Try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you and the others sometime tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sounds good. Get back home safe.”

You nod, smiling. You make sure to watch him as he goes, making sure he gets inside before turning around. He’s capable of taking care of himself, but some habits never grow old. Making sure he gets inside anywhere safely has always been something you’ve prioritized, whether he was going to a friend's house, school, or boarding the train. 

You loved him like your own, but you knew he wasn't. After all, it was only a few months ago now that he reminded you that he wasn't yours.

You’re not my mom. 

It hurt—it still does—but you never held it against him. You still loved him nevertheless. Your relationship might have shifted but it doesn’t negate the fact that you care for him and would gladly give your life if it meant keeping him safe. 

Then, there was Kugisaki and Itadori—two others slowly weaseling their way into your heart. They’ve helped Megumi so much; he might be too proud to admit it, but they’ve helped him come out of his shell; they were his friends, and you knew they had each other backs. 

You sigh, a translucent cloud of white floating up and above your head. Just like always, your thoughts shift to blue eyes. Satoru. You’ve missed him today. No calls or obnoxious spam texts. It’s not unusual per se, especially when he gets busy. Regardless, you missed him.

But, something is bothering you. He wasn't communicating with you and he usually tells you these things. Even if he didn't have the time to tell you something right away, he'd eventually find a moment to talk to you. This time around, he didn’t. He didn't tell you he was leaving or about the whole ordeal with Megumi.

He just got up and left. You woke to a cold bed and an empty house. No text message, no note with a silly doodle. When you called him in the morning, it went right to voicemail. Eventually, when you pull up your shared text messages to check for anything new, you only saw the message you sent him from the day before. At a loss, you type out a quick message. You didn't think it would make things better, but at least it was something.

I hope you have a good day today :) 

It was all you could really muster up after last night. He seemed so agitated, and so fed up. You blamed it on stress; he isn’t usually like that. Usually, his touch was careful, calculated as if you were fixed of glass. You missed his lame jokes and mischievous grins when he was up to no good. You weren't offered any of that last night. Or the night before. Even the night before that. 

You’re starting to worry. 

He always bounces back so quickly. The only thing that typically gets him this mad are the higher-ups. Which, in Megumi's case, makes sense. You can see why Gojo would intervene if they gave him a dangerous mission. 

But why didn’t he take Megumi with him, at least?

Hm.. maybe it was beyond Megumi's skill set. Would the elders be stupid enough to set him up? They did it to you long ago, but they wouldn’t be bold enough to do it to the boy with the ten shadows technique, would they?

Or maybe Satoru… just doesn’t want to be near you?

Urg. You roll your eyes at your own selfish thoughts. Satoru wouldn’t do something like that. He’s already overworked as it is. Maybe you should make him something. A nice dinner? Or maybe he needed a pick-me-up? Kikufuku? You’re sure you could find the recipe online. 

You're torn, so you decide to make both. Maybe you'll even put on a nice dress. 

You decide to call him, and after a few rings, he answers. “Hey, honey,” you say sweetly, happy he even bothered to answer your call. "I was wondering when you’d be home tonight. I want to make you a nice dinner.”

He’s quiet again—too quiet. “Dinner? Tonight?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been so busy lately. I figured you’d like that.” 

He hums into the phone, sounding a bit lighter. “Dinner does sound nice…” 

Your smile widens. You could hear the underlying stress in his tone; it was flatter than usual, but at least he was trying. “... I’ll even put on your favorite dress?” 

He chuckles a bit. “Tempting, but I’ll probably have to leave after dinner.”

“Oh,” you murmur, wincing slightly at the rejection. Maybe you’ve gotten too spoiled—too accustomed to him pushing off his responsibilities all for the sake of spending a few more moments with you. Were you being too greedy?  “Are you okay? They’re not stretching you too thin, are they?”

He sighs in a carefree tone. “I'm doing fine. Same old thing, just a different day,” is all he offers, but you can tell he’s withholding. 

“I can help, y’know,” you offer gently. “If you have too many missions, I can take a few off your plate.”

“Nah,” he tells you a bit arrogantly. “It’s better if I handle it.”

Now you’re really starting to feel the distance. He usually reserves the softer parts of him for you. You suppose he just didn’t have the patience to do so right now. “You, uh, got into it with the higher-ups I heard,” you mention, trying to keep the conversation going but approaching from a different angle. “Megumi was telling me you even took his mission. I think he was a bit upset you didn’t take him with you. How come you never told me?”

“How come you never told me you were going to Osaka? Or the fact that you took him with you?”

Your stomach twists, unease bubbling in your chest. You didn’t like where this was heading. “I– it’s never bothered you before,” you manage, though your voice falters, dying down into nothing but a whisper. “And it’s not like you’ve been… wanting to speak to me recently. I haven't had the time to tell you much of anything," your trail off, your voice slowly fading before you begin again. "Did I do something to make you mad?”

The silence that follows is unbearable—longer than you ever imagined it could be. “Satoru… Please just talk to me.”

“I gotta go,” his tone is cold, clipped, and final. 

There’s a click as he hangs up, and the silence becomes deafening and threateningly absolute.

-

You realize you miss the way he used to look at you. Not the way he'd gaze at you, but in the way he would gaze into you, as though you were ever the only thing that ever really mattered.

After your last conversation with him, you were unsteady. You hated how you stayed in bed for hours, analyzing everything he's said to you recently, dissecting his every action. You hated how needy you suddenly felt, even while laying there, in his bed, in his clothes. He paused just a second too long before answering you now, as if he had to must up the courage and energy to do so. His laugh no longer came out easily. Others might miss it, but you never could. It was still rambunctious, taking up a whole room, but to you, it felt forced, brittle even. You've known Satoru at his best, and you've also known him at his worst.

When he looks at you now, you wonder if he's really seeing you. Painfully, you realize you haven't seen him; not without his eyeband on at least. Last night you did, for the first time in a while, but he seemed agitated.

The worst part was that you didn't know how to bring yourself to confront him. You struggled, unsure which pretty words and cadence would unluck the distance between you two.

Did something happen on one of his missions? Was he stressed? Had the higher-ups pushed him too far, testing his patience?

Or was it you? Was this somehow your fault?

Did you scare him away? Have you said too much, cared too deeply, loved too loudly?

You weren't sure, but you had to try something.

You were grateful you were cooking him dinner tonight on your day off. It was the least you could do, and you adored taking care of him. You choose hot pot, something you and Satoru have tried at home before. It took over a few hours to prepare, but it was worth it. You made two broths, you sliced up shabu-shabu and wagyu beef and even went to the extent of watching a video to make a dipping sauce. Unfortunately, you forgot one of the ingredients for the kikufuku mochi and didn’t want to risk making something he didn’t entirely like. Luckily, you had spare time to run down to the kikufuku store right before it closed. Of course, you grabbed all his favorite, two boxfuls, in fact. He was a big guy, so you hoped you had more than enough food for him to indulge.

You and Satoru were together. Though he never outright asked you to be his, you knew. It was an unspoken thing, and you were content with that. For as goofy and eccentric as that man could be, it was rather surprising how he was never outright with what he was actually feeling. 

He was damn good at showing it, though. In more ways than one. 

You feel it in the way he’d always reach for you after a nightmare. Shaking, needy hands tightly clasping at your waste, fearful of you disappearing and slipping to a place where he could not reach you. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow. Please. His face would nuzzle into your neck, sharply inhaling your scent. You’d hold him, whispering endless promises. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Or it's okay. Breathe, my love. I’m with you. 

You feel it on the nights he’d pin you beneath him, his grunts and moans echoing in your ears as he fills you so completely. He’d beg, no demand you—tell me you’re mine. Only mine. 

And, of course, you’d eagerly nod, overwhelmed with the pleasure only he could strum out of you so perfectly. ‘m yours. All of me—yours. 

You feel it in his protective gaze, his eagerness to hold you in the life vest of his arms. You felt it late into the night, damp bodies pressed against one another; low lighting, quiet laughter, and secrets revealed. His dreams, his wishes, his what ifs—the parts of him that no one knew or considered. Or when he handed you a silver key with a handsome and cheshire grin. What do you say? He was lovely, every bit of him, especially his gentle and selfless heart that you would never take for granted like the rest of the world seemed to. 

You feel it when he comes home from overseas and how his strong arms hold onto you just a bit longer, a bit tighter. You feel it with how he smiles into your neck or that one time at the airport when he lifted you up and spun you around, uncaring who saw. 

You feel it in the way that it was unspoken. You feel it in his cursed energy and how it perfectly intertwined with yours, reaching for you, comforting you when his hands could not. You especially feel it in the necklace he gifted you—the one your fingers were playing with now: a silver chain with cerulean sapphires, the same breathtaking shade of his eyes. His cursed energy, carefully imbued into the stones, was like carrying a piece of him with you—always, wherever you may go, and it rests directly above your beating heart. 

He might not voice it, but you feel it. He loved you. And you certainly loved him. 

So when had it become so hard to reach him? Why does he seem so intangible all of a sudden? Something deep and unsettling blooms in your stomach. 

And now that you think about it…

When was the last time you two did any of that? When was the last time his careful hands caressed you?

Only Satoru could make you this worried or make you feel this displaced. A sense of panic strikes you, and you pull out your phone to text him when you realize he’s thirty minutes late. Usually, that wouldn’t bother you, but–

After only three rings, you're sent to voicemail. When you check his location, he’s at the high school. Should you check on him? Or would that make him… mad?

He toru! Dinners ready. When do you think you’ll be home? Miss you. 

You bite your lip. He quickly read your message, but those three little bubbles never show up. 

Nothing. Just nothing. 

Maybe he’s staying up late writing the report for his latest mission? 

“eek!” Your phone pings, and after a round of hot potato, you see he’s texted you back. 

Only to be met with more disappointment. 

Dealing with something urgent. Don’t wait up. 

You frown, knowing you should drop it, but you can’t. 

Satoru…

He’s typing faster now. What?

You pause, thumbs hovering over letters you hesitate to type. What’s going on? You’ve been off lately. 

I’m fine. Just busy. 

Do you want me to bring you dinner to the High School?

Those three bubbles appear and disappear more times than you can count. No. I said don’t wait up. 

You know I don't sleep well without you.

He responds in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Your patience is wearing thin for the first time since this ordeal started. Are you saying you won’t be coming home tonight? 

You’re offered no response. He doesn’t even open your message. For the second night, you lay in a cold bed. Except, Satoru doesn’t come home. 

Only he could fracture you so completely. 

-

During your next mission, you brought the whole trio along. According to the report you were handed, you were only dealing with a grade three, but there was also an Infestation in the area. You could use the backup.

You had initially asked Megumi, but once Yuji caught wind, he was adamant that he tagged along, and, according to Nobara she had nothing else better to do. 

“Are you guys sure? It’s your day off.”

Yuji shrugs, both arms up, hands up and behind his head. “Yeah, I’m game.”

“Me too,” Nobara voices with a small glint in her eyes. “I got something new I want to try out anyway. We didn’t get to go on a mission last week as it is.”

You paused. "Huh? Gojo didn’t take you on any?”

“Nah,” Yuji shakes his head. “I think he’s been busy or something.” He looks at Kugisaki. “Hasn’t Gojo-Sensei seemed a little… off?”

Nobara nods. “Uh yeah. He hasn’t been himself at all. We figured you’d know something,” Nobara says, curious eyes scanning you. 

“Huh… I’m not sure. We haven’t gotten around to talking lately.”

Megumi hums, though it sounds more suspicious than his usual passive tone. 

Though they weren’t necessarily your students, you figured there was no harm in taking them. You've done it before and having them around was always like a breath of fresh air—reminding you of why Satoru dedicates himself so fully to his cause and being a teacher. They give you a reason to get stronger and keep fighting. You loved these kids and all their bickering. 

Except, this mission doesn’t go anything like you had expected. The report was wrong—a grade two was ambling through the abandoned schoolhouse. That was fine; the four of you were more than enough to kill it. The infestation was a bit overwhelming, but you had their backs, and they were nothing but pesky small curses lower than a grade four. 

Everything went well when the ambush happens. You all saw it: right in front of your eyes, a grade one emerging from the shadows, born into something nasty. It's skin oozed a sickly black slime that clung to its misshapen body. Its face—or lack there of—was dark and amorphous, split by a jagged maw that stretched impossibly wide, revealing rows of sharp serrated teeth, ready to cut and slash through flesh like a meat grinder. Other that is daunting appearance, the only other notable thing about it was its speed.

You told the kids to back down, but it was already too late. They were already involved, stuck in the heat of battle and fighting as a seamless unite. They were more than capable of standing on their own. 

But you needed them out of here. Your obligation was to protect them no matter how eager they were to help. However, before you could think of your next move, the curse made one last self-preserving attack. It opened in wide jaws, releasing several red beamed energy blast aimed directly at stone pillars. 

You had no time to think, only react. In an instant, you surged forward towards the trio, faster than their eyes could react. Grunting, you knocked them back, glass shattering as you kicked them through a window. You felt the impact ripple through your body, fully knowing you knocked the wind out of Megumi and Yuji. However, they recovered quickly, their instincts sharp enough to catch Nobara–

Right in time before the building collapsed. 

The building groaned like a wounded beast, its entire frame buckling from lack of support. Stone walls crumbled into clouds of dust and debris, windows shattered in explosive bursts, steel beams twisted and snaped with sickening shrieks. The ground trembled violently as the structure gave way, collapsing into a chaotic heap of concrete, rubble, and smoke, swallowing everything beneath. Including you.

You survived. Reinforcing your body with cursed energy made you strong enough to withstand the impact, and your heavenly restriction certainly helped. Nevertheless, you still took on quite a bit of damage from the tons of metal and concrete.

You woke up under the rubble with a startling gasp, choking on the dust. Were you out for a few seconds? Minutes? You were unsure, but the only thing pushing you to stand was the panic coated in Megumi’s voice. He was calling for you, and so were the others. You could hear the strain in their voices, the utter distraught. You healed your broken leg and the gash on the corner of your forehead, ceasing your gushing blood. You gathered yourself and your strength before pushing. They found you quickly after that, noticing a heap of rubble moving. They ran, rushing to help you push back concrete that threatened to suffocate you. You never did like tight spaces. 

Thankfully, you were alright. The kids were safe as well.

However, the curse had escaped. Megumi was visibly shaken, his fingernail cracked, bruised, and bleeding from digging urgently through the rubble to find you. 

Everyone was on edge. It wasn't their fault you didn't react quickly enough. You were more than capable; maybe that's why the failure stung so much.

You let yourself down. You let them down.

You were spiraling into a dark place quickly. The guilt threatened to swallow you whole. Gojo was still nowhere to be seen. You didn't have the strength to call him. You’re not sure what you could even say. You’ve fucked up before, but never to this extent. Not to where a whole building collapsed. 

“Good morning. A tragic incident occurred last night when an abandoned school collapsed around 7 pm. Authorities are currently investigating the cause, and preliminary reports suggest that the collapse could have been due to a structural weakness—one of the many reasons why the school was abandoned in the first place. We will continue to monitor the situation as more information becomes available–"

Megumi gently grabs your phone and locks your screen. Wordlessly, he shakes his head before pocketing your device. You’re too exhausted to ask for it back. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sensei?” Yuji's voice was soft, the first voice to break the ice. You look up from your hands, unsure how long you’ve been lost in thought. You force a small smile as you gaze at the three kids. You were sitting across from them in the waiting area outside the council room. 

“I’m alright. Are you guys?"

“We’re all fine,” Megumi cuts in quickly. “We’re– we’re more than okay.”

“That's good,” you trail off. “That's really good.”

Uncertainty hung dangerously in the air. What happened now? You were okay, but for how long? 

You knew you were in for a lashing with all the collateral damage you caused. It was supposed to be a simple mission. This wasn't supposed to happen. You four were fine, but did anyone else get hurt? 

You flinch at your own thought. You don't think you could live with yourself if innocent lives were lost.

“Sensei?” Yuji's soft, unsure voice cuts in once more. When your eyes make contact, he smiles brightly. You can tell it’s forced. “After this, wanna go get something to eat? There’s this great sandwich shop down the street!”

“Y–yeah!” Nobara sits up straight after being less than conspicuously nudged by Yuji. “It’s pretty good. We went the other day–”

The council room door creaked open. The higher-ups were waiting, shrouded in shadows and faces hidden. Even if you couldn't see them, the tension was palpable. Even without seeing them directly, you could sense their anger, smell it as it rolled off of them in a quiet, unspoken fury. You glance at the kids once more, this time with a gentle, reassuring smile curling at your lips. 

Everything would be okay.  

-

Everything was, in fact, not okay. 

The air was heavy as you entered your office. Your limbs ached, your head throbbed, and every breath felt like dragging glass through your lungs. You had thought the worst of it was over, and slowly, you felt your body begin to shut down, but only when there were no prying eyes to see how you compensated for your injuries. Even after using RCT, you had a limp—your bones were mended but not quite right. Your head was no longer bleeding—but still, you weren't quite right. 

You dismiss it as exhaustion; after all, you had just learned RCT not too long ago. Maybe you missed something. However, this wasn’t anything you couldn't handle on your own. You could see Shoko, but why bother her? You’ve endured far worse. Dealing with a sore body and a headache for the next few days wasn’t out of your jurisdiction. 

When you open the door, a flickering lamplight reveals a tall frame standing by your desk. Even before your eyes dance upon his sharp and still silhouette, the air shifts—your soul already knows he is there. Satoru.

But, his eyes never meet yours; you weren’t blessed enough to see them, a bright blue illuminating in the absence of light. His eyes were covered with a familiar dark cloth. However, you didn’t need to see them to know that the usual warmth they held as he gazed upon you was gone. In its place was a coldness that turned your stomach.

“Satoru–”

“I know,” he says, voice clipped as he turns to face you. “I read the reports.” Your heart sinks as he haphazardly tosses the report down to your desk. 

You’re exhausted, unsure of where to even begin. So many questions floated in your weary mind. Where were you? When did you get here? Please, don’t be mad at me. 

It’s funny how all your dignity, poise, and strength to endure are gone with him. You already took one berating from the elders, and you’re not sure you could handle another. 

Not from him. 

“But, I want to hear it from you.” He stepped closer, his height making him all the more domineering. “What happened out there? And how the hell are my students caught up in all of this?”

“The report was wrong. It was a grade two, not three, but we handled that just fine. We cleared out the area and completed the mission, but we were ambushed. A grade one appeared, destroyed the pillars, and–” You hesitate, unable to form the words. “Well, you know what happened.” He’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. “I–I did everything I could, Satoru. The students were fine, but the curse got away.”

“Everything you could?" His voice echoes. "I don’t need excuses. Certainly not from you. You endangered them—all of them. They’re not even your students!” He snapped, his voice rising in a way you’ve never heard before.

You bite back the lump forming in your throat. “I thought you, out of anyone, would understand the circumstances.”

“...Understand?” He utters back, a quiet fury rolling off him in waves. 

 “I made sure that–”

“You failed,” he snaps, voice laced with malice. “Enough. Just stop it. You were reckless and went behind my back, and you let a pathetic grade one get the best of you.”

Your chest tightened, crumbling at the weight of his tone. “Went behind your back? I did no such thing.”

“They could have been hurt because of you!” You visibly flinch, his words carrying more weight than the debris that had buried you—broken bones and all. 

“I’m recommending you be demoted to grade two.” 

What?

“You can’t do that. Satoru, you can’t–”

“I can,” he said coldly. “and I will. You failed, and not only did you fail, you went behind my back and involved my students. Your recklessness caused this,” disdain coats his voice, and he sucks his teeth. “I was gone for two fucking seconds, and you damn near ruined everything. People could have died. My students could have been injured. So stop being a nuisance and just do as you're told from here on out.”

No. 

No, no, no, no. 

You fought for years to get to grade one. A woman with a name of no renown—this society was never in favor of you; the system was set up for you only to fail time and time again. For years, you were held at grade three, then grade two, all because of your name’s sake—all because you were a woman. You didn’t have the luxury of being as good as other sorcerers; you had the burden to be better. 

Even now, at grade one, they continue to undermine you and undervalue you. You knew you didn’t have room to make mistakes, for they would tarnish every bit of good you have done. You thought Satoru understood that. You thought he viewed you as an equal, someone strong enough to stand by him. You thought he valued you, respected you. 

You never thought a mistake, a stupid mistake, would lead to this. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. 

“This has nothing to do with my rank. You don’t believe me. You don't trust me. After everything–”

Hearing his scornful laugh, your vision begins to blur. “Don’t make this personal. You fucked up, and now I have to clean up your mess.”

Your ears begin ringing. The pounding in your head becomes too much and threatens to crack your skull open once more.

“But it is, isn’t it?” You whisper. How could it not be personal with how he's been treating you for days? “You haven't been able to look at me in weeks. You speak to me as if I’ve become nothing but a burden to you—a nuisance. What did I do to deserve this?”

He remains silent, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he grits his teeth. Point proven.

Your heart painfully twists with each beat. “Do you even… care about me anymore?” You’re not sure why you say it, why the words slip past your lips, but they do.

He read the report and he hadn't even asked if you were okay. Maybe it was a selfish thought, but it makes your chest ache. You just wanted to go home, crawl in bed and hold him. However, you knew that wasn't in the cards right now.

“Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

Your voice finally wavers before him, cracking as you press on, desperate for him to understand—desperate to have him by your side as he has been for so many years.

“You’re casting me aside like I’m... worthless."

It was cruelty, a quiet and deafening insult for him to demote you of your status—but more specifically, your place beside him. That hurt runs deep, to the point that feelings of betrayal start seeping into your veins, poisoning you, antagonizing you. Belittling you. It was a sharp dagger you never expected—searing with a hatred that threatened to cripple you. This wasn’t just about your position. He was a man of unchallenged stature, of the highest status and regard, lowering you, demeaning you with his every word, every action. 

When did things go so wrong?

Yet, even now, you question yourself. Were you being dramatic? Were you taking this too personally? Were you being selfish?

Because he was right. Every word he's said so far was right. You failed. You put them in danger.

You stand there, a hollow feeling growing in your chest. The sting of Satoru’s words cut deeper than any blade you’ve faced. His jaw tightened, his gaze hard as steel and cold as ice. “You gave me what I never asked for.”

“Don't you dare!” You snap, finger trembling as you point his way with an accusatory jab. “Don’t you dare pretend this is nothing.  You know me better than anyone. How could I not take this personally? I’ve done nothing but stand by you, love you, trust you–”

“Like I said, I never asked for any of that,” he utters sharply, his carefully composed exterior shattering. “Whatever we were was nothing more than fucking convenience.” 

Suddenly, he stops, freezing at the onslaught of his own lethal words. His next words seemed to die in his throat. The damage was done. 

Exhausted, defeated, numb. His words hit you like a death blow. “... Convenience?” Echoing the very word that came from his lips—a sound you hardly recognize comes from your mouth, a small slip of the anguish tormenting and swelling in your body escapes. 

The necklace around your neck, the very one he had given you, seemed to pulse against your skin, warm and alive. It carried a piece of him, a piece of you, a guiding hand in the absence of light: a thread, an anchor—a way home. 

Suddenly, you hated it. Hated the way it sat so close to your heart, hated the warmth, his energy; you hated that, even now, his words cutting so deep, unraveling the fabric of your being, it comforted you, reaching for you. 

You yanked it off, the chain snapping in two as you held it in your trembling hands. 

He falters, his whole being frozen. “What are you doing?” he asked, quiet and tense, blanketed in uncertainty. 

“I don’t want it,” you say, voice quivering, threatening to fail you at any moment. His energy—the only energy that blended so perfectly with yours—reached for you, and so did his trembling hands. Reflexively, you flinched away, retreating further into the room and further from him. “Don’t,” you shake your head. “Don’t touch me. Not with your hands, not with your energy. Don’t.”

Silent tears stream down your face. You are unable to look at him, and your breathing is shallow and unsteady. You open your hand, letting the necklace drop to the floor. The faint sound of metal hitting wood echoes in the suffocating silence of the room. 

There’s a soft knock on the door. It creaks, slightly opening. “... Y/n sensei?” came an unsure voice.

You stiffen, and suddenly, you can sense them, three nervous students standing outside your door. Too caught up with Satoru, you had entirely missed them. You clear your throat and dry your cheeks with the back of your hand before turning to the door. You walk over, opening the door wide enough to see them. 

“Sorry if we’re interrupting, but we just wanted to know if you still wanted to come out for dinner with us...” 

Fuck. How much did they hear?

You take a breath, and it’s shakier than you anticipated. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. Let me grab my jacket, okay.”

Yuji only offers an unsure smile. Norbora has a hard time even looking at you, while Megumis's eyes are solid and unyielding, glaring right past you. His hands were in his pockets, balled into tight fists.

You don’t know what to do other than quickly turning. Within a few ushered strides, you were at your desk, grabbing your coat off your desk chair; you’re careful to avoid Gojo, who manages to plaster on that big fucking grin. 

“Heard you guys were up to no good while I was away.”

“We were fine,” Megumi interjects before Yuji could open his mouth. “More than fine.” 

“Y–yeah, everything ended up being just fine. Y/n-sensei made sure of that,” Nobara awkwardly adds, shifting her weight on her feet. 

“Ah,” Gojo nods. “Well, make sure you get some rest tonight. We’ve got a long day tomorrow! You guys will be training with the second years!” 

You hated how he could act as if everything was alright while you were fighting back tears. It was another jab, a suckerpunch to the gut. 

You just needed to get out of there. 

-

After dinner with the kids, you headed out on your own the following day. You went home, stuffing some clothes in a bag before spending the night at a cheap motel. Before getting with Satoru, you always floated from place to place, never truly settling. Those days, all you carried on you was your backpack. You didn’t have a home or many possessions you could call your own. You just had yourself.  

I guess old habits die hard. 

Megumi was the first to text you: I went to Gojo's house today and didn’t see you. 

All good! I’ve been busy running errands.

Nobara text you sometime after.

Hey Sensei!! Let me know if you’re available today! Let’s go shopping!

You responded rather quickly. Sorry, I’m not around today. Maybe ask Maki? Or maybe Yuji and Megumi would like to tag along.

But guys suck :(

Then, there was Yuji: Hey, Sensei! Let me know if you want ramen! The gang and I got you since you covered for us the other night! I even got coupons! 

You weren’t sure what to say. You always covered for their meals (no exceptions), but you knew they were just trying to be kind. You double-tapped and hearted the message. 

You appreciated them more than anything, but frankly, it was a bit embarrassing. You never meant for them to overhear you and Satrou that night in your office, and you were never one for pity. If it were anyone else, you would have called them out and told them off. However, you wouldn��t dream of doing that to the kids. They were trying to support you in the only way they knew how, but it wasn’t their responsibility to worry about you. 

Surprisingly, Shoko was the next person to contact you. You never stopped by my office. I’m assuming you’re alright?  

Smiling gently, you responded. Yeah, no injuries to report. 

A building collapsed on you.

You scoff, imagining her deadpan expression. Heavenly restriction, remember?

That doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt. 

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. Yeesh. Just meet me at the bar you like downtown. 

That’s where you are now, Shoko’s favorite bar, tossing back your third shot. ”Take it easy. I don’t feel like dragging you home tonight.”

“Ah. I’m alright, Shoko.”

“You don’t look it.” 

“Neither do you with those bags under your eyes.”

She brings her drink to her lips, mumbling “touché��� before taking a swig. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Vivid memories pressed to the front of your mind of the building collapsing. “Satoru is demoting me. After the elders ripped into me, I found him waiting for me in my office.”

“He– what? Jeez,” she took another sip of sake. “Out of everything, I didn’t expect that.” 

“I– we haven’t been doing too good. I’m not sure if there even is an us after last night.”

“Huh. He did seem a little out of it today.”

“Somehow, I kinda doubt that.” There’s a beat of silence, and you swirl the liquid in your cup. 

“If it means anything, he asked me about you. Asked if you were alright.” 

You smile a bit sardonically.  If Satoru really wanted to find you, you knew he could, as he had the means to do so. From here, you were only about five miles away from his estate. It’s not like you were too for his eyes to see.  Suddenly, that thought bothers you, and you find yourself almost subconsciously concealing your cursed energy.  

“Is that why you texted me?”

She gives you a weird look. “Partially. I had my own concerns.” 

“Like what?”

“If I’m being honest with you, you’re not great at RCT. I wanted to check and make sure everything was alright. It eventually catches up with you if you don’t do it correctly. I’ve seen it cause irreparable damage before.”  

“Ah. I guess that makes sense.”

“You should come to my office tomorrow so I can check–”

“I think I’m gonna quit.”

“…what?”

“I mean, that’s what they really want, right?”

“If you do that, they’ll find the easiest excuse to label you as a traitor. A cursed user.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Since day one, they’ve been trying to paint me as a villain.” 

“So don’t give them what they want,” Shoko bites back. She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “Listen, I can’t stop you. You are going to do what you want to do at the end of the day, but you don’t need to do this. You made a mistake.”

“I’m just tired,” you tell her truthfully. “For months, I’ve been pretending, going through the motions. I've been miserable. Megumi hasn’t wanted me around much. He’s older now, and he doesn’t need me anymore–”

“Of course he does,” Shoko cuts you off. “He’s still a kid.”

“And I’m not his mother,” you retort bitterly. “Then, there’s Satoru. He’s been so distant.  He used to always be in my corner and make everything better, but I don’t even have that now. Now, all of the jujutsu society thinks I’m a liability. He thinks I’m a liability. Maybe it’s why he’s grown to resent me so much.”

“Please. Just stop talking,” Shoko remarks, overwhelmed with how quickly you were talking. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of conversations like these, but at least she listened. “I’m here if you ever need anyone. And please, don’t let this fester. I would rather not lose another friend.” She takes a large gulp this time, finishing her drink before gesturing for a refill. “Tsk. Satoru is complicated—I get it—but he wouldn’t want you to leave. Neither would Megumi. That kid loves you. Maybe you and Gojo just need a break.”

A break? Ha. That was one way of putting it. However, it already felt much more like a breakup, and its permanence frightened you. Like many other things in your relationship, it was never voiced but certainly felt. 

“Yeah,” you say softly, body buzzing as you down your fourth shot. “Maybe you’re right.”

-

You start walking home after having drinks with Shoko. It was a long walk, and you took your time. You weren’t in a rush to head home to potential chaos. The thought of staying at a hotel crossed your mind, but you had nothing to change into. Frankly, it didn’t matter where you went either. It’s not like you’d be able to sleep any better. 

Though, it’s not like you were going back home to anything good. You were suspended without pay; you couldn’t go near the school grounds or exercise any curses—a stipulation you rolled your eyes at. If they thought just a few measly words would stop you from exercising a curse, they would be more idiotic than you thought. 

Still, maybe it’s good to take some time off. Maybe you should stay at the hotel. If you were lucky, they’d have a washer and dryer. 

Then, your phone starts to ring—a unique ringtone that a white-haired idiot assigned to his contact one day after you let him “borrow” your phone. He even changed his contact photo; years later, you never had the heart to change it. 

Your heart aches when you see the contact photo of him, his goofy smile and gorgeous eyes peeking over his black shades. You answered hesitantly after a few rings. 

“Hello?”

“Heyyy,” you hear, his voice light and cheery yet, lacking its usual spark. “Where are you? I know I missed dinner the other night so I picked up your favorite on my way home!” 

Back to normal? Just like that?

You take a breath, reeling in your emotions. It wasn’t normal, per se, but you could tell he was trying, stepping cautiously over the ice he knew could shatter at any moment. 

“I’m not home, right now.”

“Huuuh?” You can hear the slight whine in his voice, and you can imagine him pouting like a small child. You expect him to carry on with his theatrics, but he hesitates. “When do you think you’ll be home then?”

“Uh, I don’t really know,” you trail off, unable to keep up his faux mirth and bravado. 

 “Well, if you don’t want to sleep next to me tonight, I can just take the guest bedroom!” For a moment, he sounds hopeful.

Honestly, he’s just making your head spin. 

“Honestly, I think it’s best if I stay out of the house for a little while, Gojo.”

There’s a beat of silence before you hear his nervous laughter. “Gojo?” he remarks dejectedly. “Can’t remember the last time you called me that.”

You were unsure what to say; you hadn’t even realized you initially referred to him by his last name until he pointed it out. You want to tell him sorry—for everything, but your tongue tenses in your mouth, and your throat threatens to close up. You hated it when he got like this, and typically, you’d do anything to make him smile again. 

But you’re hurt, and he caused that hurt. 

“I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” he adds quickly, unable to withstand your silence. 

“What’s there to talk about?” You ask softly. “What done is done. I messed up.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “You’re right. It can’t be undone now. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Your stomach drops your heart twists and aches. Was he going to officially end things with you? A bitter, more cruel half of you whispers—you weren’t even officially together to begin with. However, none of that even matters; he has too much of you, too many pieces of your frail heart in the palm of his hands. You were irrevocably his, but was he ever yours? 

Just a few weeks ago, you thought you would have an entirely different answer than the one you have now. You're too afraid to face him or the truth. You were guilt-ridden, your pride and dignity torn to shreds. Hearing that he no longer wishes to be with you would be too much. 

Honestly? 

You’re not sure how you’d react. If you’d sob, if you’d remain stoic, or if you’d flip a table and trash every one of your possessions. You’re at wit's end, and the level of fallout threatening to break free from you was immeasurable. 

So, you finalize what you had been contemplating just five minutes ago. “I think I’m going to stay at a hotel, Gojo. I need space. Time to think.” 

“I don’t want us to go to bed mad at each other,” he says lowly, his voice reverberating through the phone. You shiver. “It doesn’t feel right.”

You hated this. You fucking hated this. 

Your chest tightens, and your knees weaken. You wanted to give in. He always had that power over you. He ruled your heart so effortlessly. You yearned for him, your heart singing a million love songs, beckoning him back to you. 

But you couldn’t. You were too mad. You felt cast aside as if you were nothing but an afterthought—after all these years. Yet again, you feel the foundation of your home cracking, and your knees go weak yet again. You take a shuddering breath right before repeating the exact words he threw at you just a few nights prior—words that so effortlessly dismantled your spirit. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

-   

You’ve always had a habit of running. It was easier for you than most. You figured you’d go back to that cheap motel in Tokyo, but you were too restless. Too angry. Feelings of betrayal ran deep, and the guilt nipped away at you until there was only a void. 

Before you could leave, though, you call a number you knew by heart. Stepping onto the train and holding your phone to your ear, it rings. For a moment, you assume he’s asleep. It was getting late, but after the fifth ring, the line clicked. A groggy voice peaks through. 

“Sensei? What’s going on?”

“Megumi,” you breathe out. “Hi. Sorry to wake you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Nozomi 1, departing from Tokyo and heading to Kyoto, will depart shortly. Please be careful of your footing while boarding. Please refrain from using mobile phone inside the train–“

“You’re leaving?” The tiredness in his voice is replaced by something else you can’t quite place. 

“Only for a short while. It’s not like I’ll be working anytime soon,” you chuckled nervously. “But I just wanted to let you know. It didn’t feel right leaving without speaking to you first.” 

“Oh,” is all he can muster up at first. “I– when will you be back?”

“I’m not sure,” you answer him honestly. “A few days, maybe.” 

“Well… Can we visit you? I’d go alone, but I think Yuji and Nobara would kill me if I did.” 

Oh. You hadn’t expected that. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Um, yeah. When I figure out where I’m staying, I’ll let you know.”

He sounds worried. “You don’t know where you’re staying yet?”

You snicker. “Ha, this is, uh, kinda an impromptu thing.” 

“… and you’re sure alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m alright. I just wanted to tell you.”

You can tell he’s not exactly satisfied, but he isn’t one to stop you. “Well, text me where you’ll be staying in a few hours. You should probably hang up now, though, and figure it out.”

You smile softly to yourself. He always was a kind boy—kinder than he’d ever reveal. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, Megumi.”

“Night.. I’ll call you later. Be safe.”

When you hang up, you feel a bit better. 

- 

The first night was hard—really hard. Sleeping away from Satoru was incredibly difficult, but so were his sharp words that relentlessly bounced around in your mind.  You found no peace by your window, watching the last of that day's sunlight slipping away behind the horizon, casting long shadows over the dead trees covered in snow.

You could almost feel his presence, like the cast of your shadow on a wall—following you, mirroring your every move. Your phone never rang with his ringtone, your phone never buzzed with a new text. Yet you stared at the shadows for a bit longer, a bit more intensely, waiting for two blue eyes to illuminate the space. They never did. 

Kyoto's stillness seemed to reflect your own, waiting for something to change, waiting for something dead and wilted to bloom once more. 

However, even all the way over in Kyoto, bad luck seems to follow you like the plague. You were walking to a small corner market to grab something to eat when you felt the disturbance in the air—tasted it on your tongue. You hoped that surge of cursed energy wasn’t what you thought it was. You would have loved to be proven wrong, but your instincts were keen like a hound trained to hunt. 

A curse womb opened right above a Kyoto High school. 

You were definitely getting fired after this. 

You knew a cursed object was most likely responsible for this. Considering it happened at a school, you were more than willing to bet a strong cursed object was placed there, most likely intended to ward off any other strong curses that might otherwise appear in the area. You assumed the seal broke, probably after hundreds of years of suppressing the power of the object. You’ve dealt with a case like that before.

You couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Three stupid students—ghost hunting of all things—removed the seal. The decorated white cloth tightly wrapped around a black skull was torn, and its viscous cursed energy soared, tinting the sky black. 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you hissed under your breath when you slammed open the classroom door. “This way, c’mon!” You didn’t have to tell them twice. Book it, and you stay by their side for as long as you can. You had to put up your veil, but only after they were far enough. 

You got impatient, however, especially towards the kid who had been recording everything up until now, where you crushed his phone in your hand. 

“Wha– hey! You're gonna pay for that!”

“What the hell is more important? Recording or your fucking lives? Shut up and run!” 

The air suddenly cracks with a tension that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s here. You could feel it—the dark, oppressive presence creeping across the courtyard, lurking. You yourself could see it with your eyes, but you felt it. 

Your senses were better than most. It was partially why you and Yuji got along and trained together so well. You were just like him when you were younger. Granted, he wasn’t born with cursed energy like you were, but your heavenly restrictions were nearly identical. 

You stop running when you reach the edge of the courtyard, but those three kids carry on in a scram. Holding the cursed object in your hands, you raise the skull in the air. It takes a considerable amount of force, but you crush the skull, black dust coating your hand. There’s a hollow screech, and you hope that’s the end of it. 

Of course, your bad luck persists. 

Typically, destroying the cursed object that’s created a cursed womb kills it or at least nullifies it. The exception is when the curse is an S-grade; those wombs are damn near impenetrable. 

Destroying the object seemed only to irritate the curse as it began crawling out of a bloody sac. 

You hold up your fist, index, and pointer finger together, pointing to the sky along with your thumb. A crimson veil pours down, covering the entirety of the school. However, you sense three others within your veil just as you seal off the area. 

“Yo, Y/n sensei!! What the hell are you doing here, loca!” A deep laugh echoes across the courtyard. 

Christ. You knew that voice from anywhere. 

You glance over your shoulder and see a few unexpected faces. Utahime and two other students—Miwa and Todo who looks way happier than he should be, considering the circumstances. 

The newly born curse loomed menacingly overhead, its red eyes gleaming like coals in a dying fire. It was tall, with protruding joints that snapped into place. Its black and sleek hair extended beyond its long, contorted body. Its face was painted white and cracked as if crafted of aged porcelain. Its kimono was white, stained with splashes of red and black goo. You stood firmly in place, fire crackling at your fingertips, your breath steady but sharp in the cold night air. Todo and Miwa joined your side quickly, and Utahime offered you a firm nod from the sidelines. She was entrusting you with her students.  

Quickly, the courtyard became a battlefield, filled with the crackle of burning energy and the hum of raw power. 

The curse lunged, zipping through the air. You were faster, your body twisting and moving with fluid grace. You raised your hand to strike, a jet of flame bursting forward, crackling against the air. The curse shrieked as the fire seared its back, black smoke rising from its melted skin. 

It recovered too quickly for your liking. It rolled through the flames like water through a sieve, reforming and lunging again, its claws gleaming.

Your senses were on fire—every shift in the air, every sound, every movement was magnified. You could hear the heartbeat of the curse, the faintest tremor of its form as it coiled to strike. You could smell the thick, sour scent of decay that clung to it like an ancient smog. And you could feel it—the deep, heavy weight of power pressing down on you, making your muscles tighten and strain against the oncoming attack.

The curse moved to strike again, but you were already there, rolling beneath it, body twisting in a perfect arc, and feet hitting the ground in a spring-loaded motion that sent you leaping upward. Your fist, wreathed in fire, crashed into the creature’s chest.

The explosion of heat sent the curse reeling, but it was only a momentary distraction. It retaliated, slashing the air with a massive, clawed hand. Three energized strikes were headed your way. You reacted with seconds to spare, but Miwa stood directly in the line of fire. You knew her simple domain wouldn’t be summoned fast enough, but she didn’t. It would be a miscalculation that ended her life. 

The claws tore through your side, then whipped down in a sickening arc, ripping clean through your arm. The pain came in an instant—a blinding, searing agony that burned through your body. You didn't even have time to scream.

You staggered back, a cry escaping Miwa’s lips as she looked at the bloody stump where your arm used to be. Blood poured and squirted from the wound, but there was no time for that. 

"Get back!" you shouted to the blue-haired girl, voice raw. She wasn’t nearly ready for this; Utahime gravity overestimated her abilities or underestimated the cursed strength. Regardless, the girl was too distraught to do anything at this moment. 

There’s a rush, and you suddenly realize you are outside the heat of battle. Todo went in, guns blazing, but you could only waste so much time. Todo was strong, way above his current ranking, in your opinion, but it was only a matter of time before that curse cut him down, too. 

Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees. The pain was overwhelming, but you focused, drawing from the reserves settled deep within your core. Your energy surged, and tendrils of fire spiraled around the wound, filling the air with intense heat. 

“Sensei! Are you alri–" Miwa gasped, her feet coming to a haunt as she watched in awe and terror as your arm began to regenerate—pulsing with energy. The flesh knitted itself together, bone and sinew reforming in a frenzy. 

But the process wasn't easy and certainly didn’t come without a price to pay. Your body screamed, the regeneration draining your reserves. You were already weakened, and the battle had just begun. Tsk. 

Todo found his way back over to you two, panting heavily. “How are you doing over there, Sensei?”

"Clap," you say, voice strained. "Now." He looked at you, bug-eyed, but he nodded. He didn't hesitate. 

He brought his hands together in a sharp clap, and everything shifted. “Alright! Let’s dance!”

In an instant, you found yourself on the other side of the curse. You inhaled deeply, heart pounding, immediately launching yourself back into the fight.

The curse roared in confusion, disoriented, but it was too late. You were already in motion. Your feet hit the ground in a fluid motion, and with a vicious snap of your wrist, fire erupted once again. This time, it formed into a massive whip of flame that lashed through the air.

The curse hissed as the whip wrapped around its neck, and you pulled with your whole body. Never losing your grip, muscles straining, you move forward, wrapping the flames over your arm again and again, pulling tighter and tighter until you smelt the pungent odor of the burning flesh around its neck. You wrapped the whip around your arm one last time before turning your body and pulling the whip from over your shoulder, viscously yanking and slamming the curse to the ground and into submission. 

The curse struggled, its body writhing, but it was weakened. Miwa went for the opening, summoning her New Shadow Style: Simple domain. She’s gotten better since the tournament, and you acknowledge with a grave chuckle as she instantly draws her blade, slicing the curse directly across its chest cavity. She cost you an arm, but deep down, you knew she had the conviction to win and succeed. 

Todo doesn’t wait. Another clap. Another shift. You and Todo swapped places with the curse itself this time, and the curse had no time to react. He goes for a punch, cracking the curse with a quick jab, followed by a right hook. He claps again. The moment the curse materialized in front of you, disoriented, you surged forward, throwing everything you had left into one final strike.

It twisted in anguish, its body crumbling to the ground before its remains turned into ash.

Then, there was nothing.

The air grew still. The ground beneath you is scorched but calm. You sucked your teeth, silently berating yourself. 

You hated using your technique. Frankly, you opted not to unless you absolutely needed to, which was the main reason why people hardly knew about it. It wreaked havoc, leaving nothing but indomitable infernos that refused to be quenched like normal flames. They left nothing destruction in their wake—hungry to consume and spread. However, you’ve gotten better at controlling it—you’ll give yourself that. The only thing burned here today was the grass in the courtyard. 

You stood there for a moment, panting, your body trembling with exhaustion as you collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. “Y–you did it!” Miwa cheered. “I had no idea you knew RCT. Thank you for helping me back there.”

“What the– Miwa, we won! Show some conviction!” Todo cut in, flexing his biceps. 

“He’s right,” you managed a weak smile as you worked on catching your breath and easing your fast-beating heart. You collapse to the ground, still gaining your breath. "We did it."

You hear footsteps approaching from behind. Tilting your head, you see Utahime standing directly above you. 

“Oh. Hi ‘hime.” 

She smiles a bit, but her face remains hardened. You straighten up a bit, catching on to her attitude. Something wasn’t right. 

“You guys did a good job. However, another problem has arisen across the city.” 

“Huh? Another one?” Miwa asked, brows tugging inward. She shifts her weight from one hip to the other. “That's like the fifth one today...”

They continue on in their conversation as you drop your veil, sniff the air, and concentrate on your surroundings. A sense of foreboding strikes you under the dark ambiance of the sky. Even after killing that S-grade, things don’t feel right. 

“Thanks for joining us,” Utahime says, drawing back your attention. “I nearly had to call for backup.”

You scoff, glancing up at her from the ground. “Something doesn't feel right, Utahime.” She nods, agreeing with your observation. “When did the reports come flooding in?”

“About an hour ago now.”

“Hm,” you wonder, thinking back to when you first found the cursed womb. “That’s about the same time I first sensed the presence of the cursed womb. They’re most likely connected.”

“That's what I thought. The presence of the cursed womb must have irritated some of the curses in the city, most likely because they were drawn to the energy fluctuations the cursed womb caused. It's good you were here. We're stretched thin right now. If you don’t mind staying, we could use your help. The other students are out on missions across the city, and things just keep getting worse.” 

You smile up at her before pushing yourself back up on your two feet, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Sure, let’s get going–” but as you stand, it feels as if a bolt of lightning strikes you down or as if your chest has been cracked open by a sledgehammer. The agony was too great to even scream as you fell to your knees and crashed back into the ground. 

It was lights out. 

-

It was quiet. Dark—a vast, unending expanse of nothingness that swallowed you whole. An endless drift. It would have almost been peaceful if not for the faint pull at the edges of your awareness, like an anchor trying to tether to something you couldn’t see. 

But then came the first sound. 

You heard voices—muffled cries. Please wake up, said one voice. Please stay with me, came another. 

Pain began to throb somewhere in the background, dull and distant. Disembodied as if it belonged to someone else. 

Don’t you dare leave me. The voice was sharp, demanding, cracking under the weight of fear. You knew that voice and remembered all the sweet things it used to whisper to you. Your heart takes a painful lurch. You can hear its occasional beat in your ears. We need you. I need you. 

Oddly, you were cold.

You were drifting again, further and further. The anchor was slipping. You were sinking, your head hardly above water, when another muffled voice broke through—whimpering, sobbing. Your heart lurches painfully.

Mom, please don’t go.

The words pierce through the nothingness, shattering it all to bits and pieces. The words pull at you, a lifeline you hadn’t known you clung to and needed. Images begin to flash, and suddenly, the voices are no longer just voices. Your heart suddenly burns as though the memory of life itself is fighting its way back into you. 

Your eyelids were heavy, limbs weak, unresponsive—cold. You were so cold, but it wasn’t enough to stop you from crawling out of a black pit that threatened to swallow you whole. There’s a faint sensation of pressure, a hand tightly gripping yours. 

Light begins bleeding into the edges of your awareness. You sucked in a deep breath, lungs empty and greedy. 

Then, your eyes fluttered open.  

You blinked a few times, realizing how hard it was to breathe. Breathing was supposed to be an automatic response, but you had to force it, each breath dragging along the back of your throat like sandpaper. You’re weak and shivering as you use most of your energy to sit up. You were in an empty room, you realized—the sharp smell of sanitizer permeating your nose. 

You push yourself out of bed, knees buckling under your weight. You catch yourself, gathering whatever bits of strength you have left. Your teeth clattered. You were freezing. Shaking, you wrapped the white blanket over your shoulders, gripping it tight before you trudged towards the door.

The hall was mostly empty, all except for a sleeping boy slouched over in a chair beside your door. Your heart squeezes. 

“Megumi,” you whispered his name. You stare at him for a moment, unable to bite back the tears that nip at your dry eyes. 

You wrapped the blanket around him, tucking it gently around him. However, he flinches, jumping straight up in his chair. “S-Sorry,” you tell him quickly with a watery smile. “You looked cold.” 

“You…” the word was a raw and weak whisper. His eyes widened. It took a moment for recognition to settle in, but once it did, he spoke again. “You’re awake.” He stood up from his chair, and you stepped back, offering him space. “You’re awake,” he repeated again. 

Then, you start to wonder just how long you’ve been out of it. Days? Weeks? The thought of months terrifies you, but before you can even go down that loophole, he’s hugging you tightly. “You’re awake,” he says once more, his voice breaking. 

However long it was, he’s right. You’re awake. You’re here, living and breathing. You wrap your arms around his torso, patting and rubbing his back soothingly. “Yup… I’m here. I’m awake.” 

You let him be the one to pull away, letting him take however long he needs. You enjoyed it regardless. You couldn’t remember the last time you hugged him. 

When he pulls away, his eyes are red. He sniffs a bit, backing up and taking the blanket off his shoulders. This time, he’s the one wrapping the fabric around you. He’s frowning a bit as he does. “... you’re the one that’s cold,” he notes quietly. 

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” He asks softly, brows furrowing. 

You shook your head. No. Frankly, you didn’t remember much of anything right now. “I was on my way with Yuji and Nobara. We got on the train after you let me know where you were staying.” That’s right. You texted Megumi when you figured out where you’d be staying. You thought they’d come over sometime in the following days. You had no idea they were rushing to see you on the next available train. 

He places his hands awkwardly on your shoulder before gently guiding you to the chair he was sitting in moments ago. As you go to sit, your body seems to forget how to move for a moment, and you lose your balance. He catches you quickly, carefully helping you down into the chair. “When we got to Kyoto, we realized quickly how bad things were over there.   We started helping out at the Kyoto school, dealing with the curses that had been lingering in the area where the cursed womb opened up. Eventually, we ran into Todo and Miwa. They told us what happened.” He grunts, kneeling down so he’s at eye level with you. 

You’re silent for a moment. “How long was I out for?”

“Pushing four days now.” 

The memories strike you like a fright train. “Are you okay? Is everyone alright?” You hadn’t realized you had reached for his cheek. 

He grabs your wrist, thumb gently caressing the back of your hand before pulling your hand away, guiding it back to your lap. He moves the blanket until it's covering you again.  “We’re all fine. Everything’s been dealt with. Yuji and Nobara went down to the cafe to grab some lunch. They’ll be thrilled when they come back.”

You tilt your head. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

He smiles a bit. “I didn’t want to leave you unattended.”

You don’t know what to think. You’re just happy you’re back. Happy because he was happy. You always hated it when he worried about you. You never believed it was his job to do so. However, he stayed by your side and protected you when you couldn’t protect yourself. 

You wiggle your toes and roll your shoulders before standing again. “You shouldn’t be standing–”

“I’m alright, I promise,” you tell him, dismissing his concern. “I just want to walk around, okay?”

He stares at you intently, unsure, but he seems to have no energy to argue with you. “... alright,” he relents. 

He follows you closely as you drag your feet across the floor. You don’t know where you are walking, but you want to stretch your legs and regain a sense of your body. You are weak, but you need to move. 

You ask the question you were too hesitant to ask: “What about Gojo?”

He huffs. “He left a little while ago. Said he’d be back shortly,” he scoffs. “Bullshit if you ask me.”

“Megumi,” you sigh his name with a soft reprimand. 

“He should be here,” he responds disgruntledly. “He should be by your side, and he’s not."

You stay quiet. You’re not exactly sure what to say to him when you agree. Maybe Gojo was done. Whatever this was, whatever relationship you had—maybe he didn’t want you anymore. You look ahead, fighting your own body that threatened to collapse at any moment. You could feel Megumi’s eyes on you, but you didn’t have the heart to look at him right now.

You were afraid you would sob if you did. 

Though you had never walked these halls before, the hospital's layout was quite easy to catch on to. After taking a fourth right turn, you see your room in the distance. A stubborn part of you says to keep going and keep walking, but the exhaustion is catching up to you quickly. If Megumi hadn’t been by your side, cautious eyes scanning you, you might have kept going until you passed out. You realize that the strength you had was nearly depleted. Only trickles of your cursed energy remained, and it would be a long while before you gained it back. 

You hear footsteps behind you. Quick and ushered. Megumi turns before you, his whole frame tensing.  He sucks his teeth and clicks his tongue. “So he finally shows up.” He speaks in a sardonic tone, loud enough for anyone in the hallways to hear.

Satoru comes running from around the corner then, taking deep breaths. Your brows slightly pinch together in confusion. “S–Satoru,” you stutter, walking closer. “When did you get here?”  He looks disheveled. Alarmed. Was he just running? 

It was hard trying to figure out what he was feeling or experiencing when that black eyeband covered his eyes. However, you noticed the bouquet in his hands, a delicate combination of soft and tender hues: pale pink and roses, white peonies, deep pink lilies, and baby’s breath delicately wrapped along sprigs of greenery. 

You place a hand on Megumi’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go eat with the others?”

“But–”

“I’ll be alright,” you explain to him in a soft tone.

He hesitates, torn between staying and leaving.  He was unsure if he should leave you to handle this alone, but after a moment, he backed down, probably realizing he shouldn’t stand between the two of you and what needed to happen. With an irate glance shot at Gojo, he turns, pocketing his hands as he makes his way to the stairs. 

Only when the door shuts do you look at Satoru again. 

He stays unusually quiet, his face unreadable. Frankly, it was rather unsettling. You had no idea what was going through his mind. “I–I’m sorry!” you blurt out the first words that crash to the surface of your mind the moment you see him in his entirety. There was no hope of holding back. After days spent away from him, lost in his absence, and days dancing on the edge of death, the words tumble out of you before you can stop them—unbidden, unstoppable. “For everything. Y–You must have been stressed with work and other things. My fuck up only added to your plate. I get it, ya know? It's selfish of me, even now, to rely on you so much when there’s a whole world that needs you. They are not my students, and I put them in danger.” Quickly, the tears gather in your waterline again, but you blink them away. “I–I’ll be leaving soon. I’ll… I’ll go. I’ll get out of your way, and you won’t have to deal with me bothering you any longer–”

“Can I touch you?” The question comes suddenly, softly, and almost hesitantly. 

You blink a few times, puzzled, but then, you unravel, folding inward under the weight of his voice. Your breath hitches in your throat. Was he still holding onto what you had said that night? Was he haunted by the barriers broken and the others so carelessly assembled? 

He still wanted you? 

You didn’t want him to let you go. Not yet. Not ever.

Like a dam breaking, you surged forward, closing the space between you two. Seconds later, you feel his resolve crumble. He crushes you to his chest, flowers falling to the floor. His arms enveloped you with a force that robbed you of breath, your feet nearly coming off the ground as you both stumble backward. Trembling, he clung to you as if you were an anchor in a world that threatened to tear him apart. There were no words—the unspoken agony and grief were far too overwhelming to put into words—if there even were words for it. 

I’m sorry. I love you. I’m glad you’re okay.  You felt it all with him. You could feel the pounding of his heart against your chest, hear its frantic rhythm match your own.

His hands were shaking, one tangling in your hair, the other wrapping entirely around your frame and squeezing your hip. He buries his face into your neck, and his hot breath is ragged and uneven as he inhales your scent. “I thought–” he swallows, shaking his head. “I didn’t know where you were—for a second time.”

Your cursed energy was low, more depleted than it had ever been. It explains why you were so weak, so frail. When he saw your empty bed, he must’ve panicked. He ran to you, anxiously following the weak traces of your presence. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and the familiar silk of his eyeband rubs against your skin. You gently tug at the fabric with the tips of your fingers. His breath hitches, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he stills as you slip the black band from his face. He lifts his head just enough to rest it against yours. They were that same stunning shade of azure—bright and impossibly vivid, glowing softly as if they carried the remnants of a forgotten star. Captivating, otherworldly, yet achingly human—something he’d often forget from time to time. 

“You promised,” he murmurs, voice broken. “You promised.”  

“What are you talking about?” you ask just as brokenly. 

Suddenly, one of his hands grasps your neck, and you choke on your words. He doesn’t squeeze tight, but the look on his face is enough to make you gasp. “I couldn’t feel you. I couldn’t feel you anymore,” he says achingly. 

Your chest tightens, nails slightly digging into his forearm. You open your mouth to speak, failing more times than succeeding. You wanted to speak, but the words lodged in your mouth. 

“I–I don’t understand.”

“You’re not wearing it anymore,” he murmurs, his nose brushing softly against your cheek. The necklace you always wore—his gift to you, the one that held a part of him, a part of the two of you—was gone. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, an absence that gnawed at him like hunger, an emptiness he could never satisfy. 

His voice wasn’t angry, far from it. It wasn’t even harsh, but something in it—a quiet desperation—made the air between the two of you quiver. 

“You promised you’d never go where I couldn’t follow,” he whispers again. “Remember?” 

You nod in his hold, tightly pursing your lips together when a few tears escape, dripping from your eyes.  He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours again, gazing deep and unwavering into your eyes. I remember. His grip on your neck loosens until he removes his hand from your throat completely, gentle fingers pushing down your shirt's fabric. His fingers trace your skin, the empty spot where your necklace once laid. 

Then, it suddenly hits you. “Oh.”  

He could feel you as much as you felt him. If you were ever too far from him—out of the range of his sight, out from where his hands could reach for you, that necklace was a beacon, a beckoning, a lighthouse in the storm that guided you home—guided him home. 

You squeeze him tighter. You missed him. You really missed him. 

“How did you find me?” 

He takes a moment to breathe, trying to settle the rapid beat of his heart. “Utahime.” He wheezes out a pained laugh. “She called me panicking once you collapsed. I got there as quickly as I could.”  

You copy his laugh, albeit coughing a bit from the pain blooming in your ribs. You hated to admit it, but the longer you stood, the more your body began to hurt. “I should just heal myself and get this over with.”

“Don’t,” his grip tightens on you again. “you’re using it wrong. There’s damage, lots of it,” he tells you, wiping at the blood that had stained your skin at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Any more and–” his eyebrows furrowed deeply, the weight of grief and guilt tugging his features. The corner of his lips tightened. “Shoko operated on you for hours. You nearly died.”

He sees what others cannot, his gaze piercing the surface to something deeper, something raw. He sees the world through an entirely different lens, and right now, the sight of you seems to pain him dearly. 

For a moment, you wonder just how much damage is hidden within you and how much it must weigh on him to see it. “Shoko might have gotten you out of the woods, but she told me you’d need a few more rounds to get you back to normal.”

“That makes sense,” you murmur, allowing your entire body weight to ease into him. He accepts you with open arms. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Or twenty.”

“I missed it,” he utters, voice thick with regret. “If I had just looked a bit closer, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I fucked up. I could’ve prevented this.” His careful grip on you tightens as if you’d slip away from him once more.  “But,” his tone softens. “You did so well. You took care of that cursed womb before I could even get to the scene.” Even through his pain and wallowing, his heart swells. He was proud of you. 

He bends down, grabbing the flowers he dropped before moving towards you again. “Oh gosh,” you hide your face into his neck as he reaches down, one arm hooking under your legs as he lifts you. You don’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m definitely fired, aren’t I?” 

He carefully guides you back into your room. He manages to toss your flowers on the counter by the window. “Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll handle it. ‘Kay?” He places you down on your bed, but he hesitates, not wanting to fully pull away. 

Your eyes flicker, recalling the night of your augment. You knew this was the reason behind his haunted expression. You recognized the torment because you, too, had felt it. “You’re mad,” he observes relatively quickly.

You didn’t want to bring it up. You weren't necessarily mad, not anymore, but even near death couldn’t make you forget the pain he had caused with words he so carelessly struck you down with. 

“What you said… Hurt me, Gojo,” you look down at your hands, feeling selfish for even bringing this up after nearly dying. However, you knew this conversation was inevitable.  “Even if you were right I felt cast aside. Useless. Why didn't you tell me you felt that way before?”

“No… don’t say that. I was being stupid. I over reacted. I know you'd always protect those kids and that's exactly what you did. You’re not weak or a nuisance, or... convenient.” you flinch at the word. “You’re far from that. I need you to know that.”

“...Then what am I?”

“Everything,” he shudders. “You’re everything.” His lips brush over your forehead, your cheeks, and eyelids, each kiss tender and lingering. But then he pauses, his smooth lips hovering just above yours. He’s always been so confident, so self-assured. You’re unsure how to react.

You were sitting on your bed, feet dangling just above the floor. He is leaning over you, one large and warm hand on your thigh, the other cupping your face gently. He was close, but not close enough. Even bent at the waist, his height keeps him just out of your reach unless he leans back down just a bit more…

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, giving him all the assurance you have to offer.

You were hurt, but you still wanted him.

You still loved him. 

His mouth was warm and soft—testing the waters and treading carefully. His grip on your thigh tightens until– 

He lets go. You feel the tension in his body dissipate, and finally, he allows himself to fully enjoy you—taste you. The kiss deepens, and you swear it brought life back into your frail body. He overwhelms you now in the most delicious way possible. Your toes curl, and your tight embrace eases. Your arms go weak, your hands moving to run down his chest, his taut muscles quivering in the wake of your touch.  Every moment was a promise, every brush of skin a new vow. No words were spoken, but you both heard everything that had been held back, everything that had been left unsaid. 

I’m sorry.

I love you. 

I love you.

I love you. 

He smiles against your lips, but you don’t stop or pull away, catching and nipping at his bottom lip. Then, you kiss him again, slotting his top lip between yours. “You really love me, huh? Hehe.”

Oh. You hadn’t realized you said it—whimpered murmurs against his lips. No wonder why he looked all dopey and smiley. 

“You’re not going to make me grovel for forgiveness?” He pecks your lips again. “This seems too easy. I know you’re still mad.”

You chase after his lips. “Of course, I’m still mad,” you mutter against him. “But I thought I would never see you again.” Even as he frowns, you pepper his lips with kisses. “Plus, it's not like you to grovel.”

“I would for. Only for you, of course.”

You giggle, nipping his lip a little harder. “Yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “I’d like to see that.”

Oh no. You’ve made a grave mistake. You knew you messed up again the second the words fell from your lips. There’s a glint in his eyes now. 

“Oh, my beautiful, angelic Queen! I know I have displeased you. Please accept my humble apologies!” You squeak at the suddenness of his actions. He sinks to his knees dramatically, and his palms meet the dirty floor, and so does his forehead. “I am at your mercy! I have failed you greatly, and I wish to make amends.”

You swat him on the back of his head, but it's not nearly enough to hurt him or deter him from whatever this is. “Gojo! Don’t bow like that! Get up!”

“But I can’t!” He whines. “You must forgive me! I will spend eternity on my knees if it means I can regain your favor, my perfect, beautiful, divine Queen. You alone rule this sinners heart!”  He inches forward on his knees, squeezing himself between your legs. His hands find homage on your waist as he nudges his face into your stomach.

Your eyes roll skyward. “Only you could apologize and insult me at the same time, Satoru,” you grumble, looking down at him before running your fingers through white stands. 

Suddenly, he looks up from this position, resting his chin right beneath your ribs, grinning ear to ear. “You called me Satoru~”

You feel your face flush, heat gushing to your cheeks and ears. “Shut up. You’re such an idiot. Can you get up now?”

“Nah,” he says lazily, burying his head into your stomach again. His voice comes out muffled. “I’m trying to make amends with my Queen. Let me, will ya?”

You ease, realizing you won't be able to stop him from doing what he wants. Even if it was a bit theatrical, he was doing his best—you know that because you know him. You let your nails gently graze his scalp as you continued to pat him. He hums, almost purrs, as your other hand finds his shoulder, squeezing him gently before running your fingers under his shirt, caressing his skull and the taut muscles in his back. A beat of silence passes, but you find yourself uncaring.

You had him back in your arms. That’s all that really mattered to you right now.

“Look, I know… I know I messed up,” he begins, voice so low, you nearly miss it. “I’m not great at this—saying the right things. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was stressed. I was fed up with the higher-ups and fed up with my missions, but that’s no excuse. If I could take it all back, I would in a heartbeat. You deserve better than what I was giving you. I’m gonna try to be better… for you. For us.”  His words hang in the air a bit awkwardly, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his voice. It couldn’t be missed. He shifts a bit, moving to kiss your belly. Then, his large hand wrap around yours, guiding your hand closer to his lips. He kisses the back of your knuckles tenderly as if the act of his apology could never be enough.

“You want me to stay?”

He squeezes you tighter. “Of course I do. What would I be without you?”

“Hm. You’d still be Gojo Satoru. Even without me.” 

“I don’t want to imagine a life without you,” he mutters. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow. I've already told you that…”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper sweetly, patting his head. He nudges his head further into you. “The world will always need you.”

“I will always need you. So please… stop talking like this.” He pinches your side, making you squeak. Finally he looks up, an unimpressed expression gracing his features. “And don’t ever leave the city to get away from me. When you told me you were going to a hotel, I thought you meant in Tokyo.”

You chuckle nervously, looking elsewhere. “Yeah… Sorry about that.” 

“Next time, take a walk or something. I dunno, go touch some grass if you get tired of me.”

A small smile escaped you, followed by a quiet laugh that shook your shoulders. You pat his back three times before kneading him softly. “Okay, humble peasant. You've groveled for long enough. Now lay with me,” you demand him. “I want you to lay with me. I’m so tired.”

“Psh. I’d hardly fit on this bed.”

“Whatever,” you tell him, scooting over. “I’ll make room. Get in, string bean.”

He grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

 It’s a bit awkward at first with his lanky form, but he makes it work. It was a tight fit, and his feet slightly dangled off the bed, but he made no objections. With your back to his chest, he held you against him securely.

“You’re cold,” he observes out loud when you start playing with his fingers. It’s a bitter realization, a deafening one on his part. You know it bothers him, especially as he wraps the blanket around you tighter.

He tries not to let it show. However, he quickly becomes restless and you know he isn’t sated. He begins to move. “Let me go get you another blanket.”

“Nooo. Stay here.”

“Huh? But you’re freezing! And you’re never cold!”

“I’m already warming up!” You intervene with a small giggle, tugging him by his jacket. “Just shut up and lay with me, already.” He hesitates before unbuttoning his black jacket. When he was determined, there wasn’t any stopping a man like him, and right now, he was determined to get you warm.

He lays his jacket over you, spreading the fabric out, smoothing away all the wrinkles, and making sure you're covered. It might as well be a blanket with how long it was over you. Bonus points because it still carried him warmth and smelled like his cologne. A blend of earth and wood with a hint of something darker—smokey and smooth. You always loved the scent. Whenever he walked by, it brushed past you like a gentle breeze over still water, warm and inviting, with subtle notes of leather, musk, and vanilla. 

He grunts a bit before easing into the bed again. “My little icicle- ow,” you shot your elbow back, getting him right in the ribs. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He chuckles, before wrapping his arms over you one more. He brushes your hair from your neck, his breath fanning against your skin. He kisses you there once, twice, three times before saying something familiar. 

“I could sense when you left Tokyo. I didn’t know what to do. Even with my eyes, I couldn’t find you. You were just gone. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow." He kisses your neck. "Please.”

You turn around, searching for his lips. He melts into you once again, squeezing your side sweetly. “I promise,” you murmur. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow,” you say, voicing back the same promise he made you. He smiles faintly against your lips.  

When you woke up the next morning, your necklace was there. It was back where it belonged, sapphires resting gently over your steady beating heart—carrying Satoru’s silent promise.

Wherever you go, that’s where I follow. 

-

a/n: I honestly don't know how I feel about this but if you made it to the end I hope the nearly 18k was worth reading. If you couldn't tell its based off the song Die With A Smile. Honestly, I think I might have been happier by making this a bit longer and flushing out some of the scenes more, but I was trying new things and I was excited to post my first jjk post :) however its getting late now but if there's any typos or errors I notice later I'll edit as needed.

anyways, if you'd like to see more gojo x sorcerer!reader let me know! also I really hoped you liked the bits I added with Megumi (he's just a smol bean).

likes and reblogs are always appreciated! :p

[stopaskingme]

A Note on Watches

was watching Conclave with my friend and being a watch nerd, he notes:

Lawrence

Lawrence was wearing something like an Orient Bambino (possibly passed down). Watches like that are from the eighties.

Clearly, it's not embellished, and worn over time. A used Orient Bambino exudes decorum without being flashy. Pragmatic and cultured.

__________________________________________________

Bellini

Bellini's watch was quite simple as well.

Potentially an Omega De Ville or more likely a classic Seiko Dolce. Also an old model, implying that he's worn it for some time.

(Apparently, the Omega De Ville doesn't have the same angles) Regardless, people who opt for tank faces (square watches) tend to be ambitious. Simultaneously, they want to project humility.

'He's been doing all the right things to get what he wants,' says my friend. 'He's been curating his image.'

__________________________________________________

Benitez

Benitez's Casio f-91w is a functional watch.

'It exists just to do its job,' says my friend (Nate). 'No fanfare. It tells time and like [Benitez's] character, it's not trying to show up anybody. It just does its job.'

Considering this Casio costs 12 TIMES less than Bellini's Seiko Dolce, you might think this is a humble watch.

But it's not even that. It's an 'I exist' watch.

Additional note: Some people have said Benitez is wearing a Casio F-105, but my friend disagrees. Benitez’s watch face is too large (sorry for the typo) SMALL to be the F-105. Regardless, both the Casio models tell us the same thing about Benitez's character.

Additional note 2: Casio f-91w is apparently considered a god-tier watch, which is above luxury watches. It's earned that ranking because:

It's battery lasts for 10 years

It keeps time accurately

It has alarm & date function (both 12h or 24h)

It has a backlight

Water resistance for up to 30m

It can stand a tough beating.

It's versatile. You can wear it with a suit or overalls. Anything.

It's cheap, i.e. easily accessible. Just like God.

It has an annual sales of 3 mil units per year, making it the most sold watch in the world.

Side note: The current Pope (Francis) wears a Casio MQ-24-7bldf, which has similar connotations as Benitez's. The only difference being that Pope Francis's Casio is analogue while Benitez's watch is digital, showing the role age plays in preference. Both watches are hella cheap, but Benitez's watch is a tad more expensive by virtue of being digital and having more features like an alarm and backlight function, which better fits his situation in Kabul.

🐢 Conclave watches part 1 / part 2

[kookiestiddies]

1 | first sightings

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x female reader

Genre: Enemies With Potential | Fluff, Angst & Smut

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, mild injury, reader is grumpy, mentions of flashing (???), attempted humour, if you see any typos and grammatical errors no u didn’t

A/N: there'll be no fixed schedule for this bcs I have commitment issues rip so good luck to ya'll honestly. happy reading! feel free to lmk your thots :8) 👍🏼

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3 years ago...

Fuck my life! 

That’s what you think to yourself as you try to catch your breath; an impossible feat considering the fact that you’re lugging along 3 monstrous and overpriced textbooks. And not to mention the fact that you’re racing across campus because it’s only the first day of your college career and you happened to be late.

Sure, maybe it could be considered your fault because you hit the snooze button too many times over the course of an hour before your class actually started. Maybe you only further sealed your fate by taking too long in the shower. However, in your defence, it should be decreed a social injustice for classes starting earlier than 11 am to be acceptable. Rest and hygiene come first about all else, yup yup. 

You were so focused on reaching your destination that you missed to sound of the bell ringing overhead the campus coffee shop entrance on your side, signalling someone’s rushed exit.

So imagine your surprise when you find that your race to the class that’s 2 minutes away from starting is brought to a halt when you’re suddenly sent flying perpendicular to the direction you were going in by an unseen force only to land harshly on the lawn in front of the coffee shop. 

You see it all happening in slow motion: you’re rapidly reaching the ground but not before you jut out your arms to hopefully prevent your face from getting too intimate with the muddy ground. Your ultra-premium textbooks leave your grasp to land in- 

Oh NO! 

A puddle.

While you sit there in shock, barely processing what just happened, you hear someone swearing nearby from the direction of the coffee shop. You look up towards it to find a pair of doe eyes looking back at you. The owner of said doe eyes is crouching ahead of you; a boy.

Before you can take a good look and process him, he’s already up on his feet and quickly picks up a bag scattered haphazardly next to him. You snap out of trance and call out to him as he makes a move towards the main campus buildings. 

“HEY!”

He hesitantly stops and looks around at you. “What?!” 

What’s with his tone?! 

“What do you meant, What?! You knocked me down! My textbooks are ruined!” you say as you get up haggardly, brushing off the mud on your elbows.

“I’m sorry, but I’m already late for my class, I’ve got to go,” he replies quickly and starts scurrying away. 

“WHAT?!” you yell to his retreating back to no avail. Oh, now you’re mad. 

The boy’s hurriedly retreating figure comes to a sudden halt and turns around, speeding towards you with his hands in his pocket. 

That’s more like it. Get your ass over here and apolog-

“I’m sorry about your textbooks, hope this covers it!” he rushes out and shoves a wad of cash in your hands. He doesn’t wait for your response before he darts back towards the campus building. 

You’re too stunned. You are simply. Too. Stunned.

An angry pout forms on your face as you mull things over and count the cash that he generously thrusted to you. A whole 50 bucks. The sheer audacity of that stupid boy. 

What the heck were you supposed to do with 50 bucks?! Each textbook cost atleast 90 bucks!

You pick up your bag and your now wet, smudged and ruined mammoth of a textbook set with a groan and angrily huff your way towards class, which you are now officially late for.

Imagine meticulously planning out your first day at college from hour-to-hour, only to end up becoming the loser that shows up to class late with a set of muddy textbooks, ruined hair and shockingly dirty clothes.

Operation Have A Positively Impressionable First Day of College: FAILED.

You would continue your run to class if it weren’t for the fact that your knee was sore as a result of you getting to 2nd base with the grass which led to you limping the rest of the way. 

Maybe people are kind, maybe it was the fact that your anger and annoyance were monstrously visible to anyone passing by, but thank fuck, everyone moved away from you as you stormed your way to class. Thanks to your encounter with that fuckhead of a boy earlier, your mood is now at its lowest setting and you simply cannot tolerate anyone else for the rest of the day probably. You curse him under your breath the whole way.

It can’t possibly get any worse, right? Wrong.

When you finally make it to class, you were 4 minutes late and three significant things happened one after the other:

#1 You had to face the embarrassment of 200 pairs of eyes, plus the lecturer’s, witnessing your walk of shame as you cautiously entered the class like a gazelle amongst a pack of lions. 

2# All the seats towards the front were taken up so you had no choice but to find an empty seat towards the back of the class. 

3# By your luck, you realised too late that you were seated right in front of an annoyingly familiar face.

He tried to hide from you. 

You know this because he looked at you straight in the eyes, visibly panicked and lied his head on the table with his hoodie and arms shielding him, pretending to be asleep. 

Tch, pathetic!

Thankfully, the rest of the class went by as smoothly as can be, though you did feel the heat of someone staring at you at the back of your neck. You tried your best to ignore it by forcing all your attention toward the lecture. 

When the end of the class came around, you were quick to exit the class. 

Frankly speaking, you’ve had enough of today.

As you turn down the hallway, you bump into Nayeon, a friend you’d made during the freshmen orientation. 

While you were still deciding on whether you should project a more introverted or extroverted personality onto all the new people you’d be meeting in college, Nayeon made the choice for you by taking up your neighbouring seat and starting a conversation with you about the shitty AC in the hall. In less than an hour, you’d already gotten to know all about her eight exes and how two of them almost gave her STDs and one of them almost gave her a whole baby. You were still contemplating which one would have been worse.

“Y/n! Oh, thank god you’re here! Y/nieee, today has been such a nuisance and it’s barely 12 pm!” she cries while sliding her arm in yours as you both start walking in sync towards the college cafeteria.

Hah! 

“You know, Mercury must be in retrograde or something because my day has been awful so far as well,” you say with a downward tilt of your mouth. 

“Oh? Does that have anything to do with your whole ‘I’m 27 years old with no prospects’ cosplay thing you’ve got going on? Lovin’ the limp by the way. It really adds to the whole vibe” she retorts with a cackle. You can’t help but giggle along with her until you remember the reason for your haggard get up.

You haughtily recount your morning’s incident to her and heave up your textbooks, now reduced to a damp and muddy stack of papers.

“Ew, what was his problem?!” she asks and you giggle at her disgusted look. You’re both quiet as you reach the cafeteria and get some food on trays. “C’mon, the gang’s over there,” Nayeon says as she leads you to a table that seats her friends whom you had also briefly met during orientation. 

You take your seat and set your food on the table along with your ruined textbooks. Hoseok peeks a curious look at them, you notice, but he doesn’t say anything. But his curiosity is abundantly loud, so you answer it for him anyway.

“Some turdball knocked me over this morning on my way to class and they dropped right into a puddle,” you say with a pout. 

“Oh? Does that also explain the Mother Nature cosplay you’ve got going on right now?” he replies with a cheeky grin and reaches out to you to pluck out a piece of grass that you hadn’t realised was in your hair

Geez, this is so embarrassing.

“Uh-huh, totally. It’s avant-garde baby.” you retort which sends the table in a fit of giggles, including Hoseok, whose laughter rings louder than the rest. 

“Also, what’s up with you guys and cosplays? Nayeon made a comment earlier too,” you bring up. Somehow, it causes Jimin to spiral into a choking fit and the rest of the group starts knowingly laughing. 

“Oh, you’re gonna LOVE this!” Chae bellows towards you. 

She’s interrupted by Jimin who whines “Chae, for the love of God, can you please shut up about that? It’s literally not even funny anymore!” 

“Oh yes it fucking is! Go on,” Nayeon urges Chae on.

“It’s an inside joke right. When we were in high school, he took part in a random Joker & Harley Quinn cosplay competition with one of our other friends. This idiot here was Harley and he flashed the whole audience with his ass hanging out from under his skirt the whole time!” 

The whole table hollers with laughter, except for a violently blushing Jimin. In between your giggles, you ask Jimin “Did you guys win though?” The table erupts in another round of laughter as Jimin mutter an angry “No.”

“Oh my god, there’s even a video! Nayeon, where’s that video Jungkook took?” Hoseok yells. 

“STOP!” Jimin yells but it’s too late. 

In lighting speed, Nayeon whips out her phone and shows you what truly is Jimin’s ass hanging out from under a skirt as he prances about the stage in true Harley Quinn fashion. There’s another handsome boy next to him dressed in a Joker costume. “That’s our friend, Taehyung, by the way,” Chae adds. 

“Jesus fuck, do you have that video on standby or something? You pulled it out so fast,” Jimin whines at Nayeon. “I have it saved as my live wallpaper babe,” Nayeon replies and sends a flying kiss towards Jimin which earns her a swear thrown at her face in return.

“Hey, where’s Jungkook? His class should have ended by now, right?” Hoseok asks Chae.  

“Hmm yeah, he was in the same class as Y/n actually. Did you see him?” Chae turns to you. Your attention is still focused on the phone in Nayeon’s hand as you reply, “Sorry, I was a little preoccupied to notice. Besides-,” you lift your head to look at her.

“-I don’t even know what he looks like,” you say with a smile.

“Look out for someone who looks like me, duh. I may be cooler than him, but we’re still twins,” Chae teases.

“Well, speak of the devil, here he comes,” Hoseok says and shifts his attention to look over your shoulder. 

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. I had to sort something out with my lecturer,” an eerily familiar voice says behind you. 

No. 

Fucking. 

Way. 

You don’t want to turn around.

“We gotta head out soon for the . By the way, say hi to Y/n, she’s watching your video of Tae and Jimin at the comic fest,” Hoseok says with a bright smile. 

“Huh? Hmm, kinda weird that you came over just to watch Jimin hyung’s ass reshaping the world’s seat,” the new guy acknowledges you and you feel him approaching from behind. 

“You’re all horrible,” Jimin says.

The table erupts in a fit of giggles and you suddenly feel a warm hand on your shoulder. 

Fuck.

You have to turn around now. 

You’re turning around.

“Hi, I’m Jung-” he stops halfway and his eyes widen as he realises who you are. 

You fake a wide smile and say “Hi Jungkook. I think we’ve met before,” you say harshly and look at him straight in the eyes. You’re pouring every bit of spite you have crawling around your body into this look. And it seems to pay off with how Jungkook gulps loudly and looks at you with doe eyes.

The whole table has turned to witness your interaction now.

“Oh, so you have? Small world huh,” Chae chirps.

What a small world indeed.

Your moments away from blowing a fuse and cussing him out in front of your friends who are watching your interaction, when the unthinkable happens, too fast to be stopped.

Jungkook immediately gets down on his knees in front of you, brings his palms together and shrieks out, “I’M SORRY!”

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

[igotanidea]

Too hot to handle: Jason Todd x reader

SMUT MDNI!

As usual sorry for all the typos, grammar mistakes etc. I really had to post it XD

***

Y/N was fuming.

For no reason at all, falling down the internet hole, she found herself on some stupid forum for stupid horny women who couldn't keep it in their pants.

Clearly those bitches were getting hot and bothered for Red Hood, shamelessly sharing their dirty thoughts and comments on some parts of his body and the things he'd let him do if--

Fuck.

She could have Tim or Babs trace their IP addresses in a second and could pay them a visit of a very possessive, angered and super jealous girlfriend.

Her hands were almost itching to write a few spicy comments herself, spilling the beans of whose body Red Hood was touching almost every night. Whose lips he was devouring. Whose most sensitive parts he was tasting with his tongue, begging for as much as a drop of sweetness. Whose moans and gasps he got to hear, whose voice was his drug, whose curves he was worshiping on his knees.

Obviously, she couldn't do that, but the thought of Jason's muscled body on top of her, his hands tracing her skin and joining her in the intimate dance had a side effect seeping through her panties. 

She needed him. 

With the need that could not be satisfied with her fingers or even the toys she had stacked safely in the locked bottom drawer.

Jason ...

Come home...

Can't you sense how much I want you now...

She almost prayed to the moon on the sky to bring her lover back to her. 

***

That little tingling on his skin was something new and as much as he hated to put the thought into words, it was like a spider-sense. The one of Y/N’s second favorite self-appointed hero – spiderman.

Y/n…

Was that feeling because she was in danger?

Did someone hurt her? Did anyone dare lay a finger on his precious girl?

Jason gritted his teeth, clenching fists, anger at a purely potential enemy flooded his brain.

It was a quiet night either way, giving him a perfect opportunity to take a quick detour and check on his angel. Just a look and assurance that she was safe, to help him keep going and push him through all the shit and doubts.

Y/n….

***

He did not expect her to sit in front of Netflix at 2 am. She had work in the morning so why on earth was she watching the series?

“Hey!” he called, probably a little bit too loud, causing her to jump on the couch and almost drop the mug. “Sorry…”

“Next time give me a heads up, will you?” she muttered with a pout.

“Um- okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“Nothing.” Y/N scoffed angrily, turning back to the TV.

“Can I please get my girlfriend back? You know, the other one? Nice and caring? The one who would ask me if I’m hurt or maybe need patching or a post-patrol kiss?” Jason teased moving in front of the screen, successfully blocking it from her view. “Wait… Y/N, are you watching “Too hot to handle?" His laugh filled the room, because honestly that might have been the funniest thing in the whole week. His serious, a bit reserved, goody-two-shoes girl had her eyes on the show about horny singles.

“Shut up…”

“Oh, I will most definitely not shut up about it. Are you hinting at something, here? Cause you know, you don’t need a show like this if—” he switched a little, coming closer and leaning over her silhouette on the couch

“Shut up, Jason!”

“Whoa!” his hands raised in feigned surrender “someone’s feisty today, aren’t you?”

“I’m not feisty. I’m furious!”

“At what?”

“Girls!”

“Wait, what?” Jason frowned “I am confused.

“Girls! Women! The ones who are trying to bang and –”

“I thought you liked banging?” he sent her a knowing smirk

“Jason!”

 “Come on, sunshine, you cannot hide that blush.” He pointed out, brushing fingers over her reddened cheeks, raising her head so she had to look into his eyes “What’s gotten into you? Tell me the truth.”

“Stupid internet.”

“Mhm. Okay. Care to elaborate?”

“Did you know the girls are getting hot for the Red Hood on some stupid forum?”

“Nope. Did not. But… did it make you jealous?” he smirked, expecting her to deny and squirm in embarrassment that he accused her of such low feelings.

“Yeah…” Much to his surprise, she decided to be honest. It truly was a strange night. “Yeah, I was. Jealous and furious. Hence the “Too hot to handle” marathon.”

“Hm? Can’t see the correlation.”

“It’s so shallow and selfish and mean, but – the show is so silly and most possibly fabricated. I may, or may not have been trying to diminish women who are openly horny….?” Her voice became barely audible at the end, as if she was ashamed to admit her own .

“Oh, you silly little one.” Jason laughed, pulling her onto his lap and brushing hair out of her forehead. “You could have led with that.” His lips brushed over her forehead

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You should have told me, that coming across girls leching over me-“

“Over Red Hood!” she interrupted and he only laughed again.

“Over me” he underlined  “- got your knickers in a twist.”

“It did not!”

Great, now she was trying to deny it. Too bad it was too late and he was in the mood for the games anymore. He felt the need to assure her that she was the one, though also expressing appreciation for said open horniness and for a little bit of jealousy. It made his ego soar.

“Didn’t it?” he teased, grabbing onto her waist and laying her on her back, hovering over her, moving fingers up her leg, until it reached the hem of her sleeping shorts. “Maybe I should check myself then?”

His hand brushed over the inside of her thigh, causing her to let out a sharp exhale.

“Oh, right… My little minx is not wearing panties at all. So it seems like you have been telling the truth after all. You did not get them in a twist…”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her, a sudden sweet distraction allowing him to yank those silly little shorts down, exposing her want without any care in the world. Opening her legs and wrapping them on his waist, without breaking the kiss for even a second, Jason pressed his weight on her, distributing it evenly on his forearms, to not crash her.

“Mmm. Tease.”

“And you love every second of it.” He smirked, grinding against her core, sacrificing his favorite tactical pants to her warmth and wetness. Not much of an exorbitant price for what was waiting at the finish line.

And even though it was just the beginning of the marathon, they were already gasping heavily, grasping onto each other, pulling each other closer and closer. She was so needy and he loved it. The more bothered she was, the easier it got for him to end on the winner’s podium. His cock was hardening by a second, making it almost painful to be kept in the pants, but he was holding back.

“Jason…” she moaned, reaching down his torso, sneaking hand under the waistband.

“Not yet, baby.” All she got in return was her hands pinned above her head in a very vulnerable position, completely at his mercy. And to add to it all, Jason lips attached to her pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin, making sure to leave a dark purple hickey. The one she wouldn’t be able to cover easily. “Not yet…” the grip on her wrists faltered for a second, but not enough to allow her to break free.

Jason was skillful and knew exactly what he was doing.  Feeding her with the false hope of freedom only for a second, only to grab her hands in one hand, using the other to roll her sleeping shirt up, exposing her breasts, but not taking it off fully.

“Hello, lovelies…” he muttered, before diving between her tits, getting the arching back and multiple sounds of pleasure in return. “Yeah… keep those sounds coming, baby…”

His lips traced a scorching path down her cleavage, making her want skyrocket, smirking upon the feeling of her legs tightening on his waist and her hips grinding against her jeans.

“Not yet.” He commanded again, pressing her back flat onto the couch. “Not yet…” his eyes flashed with something primal and animalistic. There was something devilishly turning on with having her naked under him, while he didn’t shed a single piece of clothing. And he was going to exploit that opportunity to the maximum.

With a quiet laugh that sounded almost sinful, Jason bent down and traced tongue over the flesh of her soft, warm breast, purposefully avoiding the little pink button that was begging for his attention. Yes, his ego was skyrocketing upon hearing her cries of pleasure and broken gasps of his name on her swollen lips, followed by the flexing of her body against his touch.

Yes, he might have been acting a little dominant, but they both knew it was not going to go on forever. 

Deep inside Jason was sweet and romantic, definitely putting soft, tender lovemaking over hard and rough sex.

And really, it didn’t take him long to give in to her pleadings and entreaties, moving lips to her nipple, sucking and biting on it gently.

“Oh yes!” she cried out, closing her eyes and from that moment things started taking on the pace. Jason groaned from the sensation of her breast in his mouth, letting go of her wrists, allowing her hands to tangle in his hair, only adding to the feelings burning inside his chest and groin. Abandoning lavishing attention on her chest, he guided her hands to the hem of his shirt and with  interlaced fingers and eyes never faltering from each other’s face they pulled it over his head, exposing his toned upper body, covered with fresh bruises and cuts.

“So you are hurt…” she whispered, touching the pads of her fingers to the newest purple mark on his pec.

“I didn’t notice…” his voice was deep, calming and full of adoration “All I notice right now is you…” he grabbed her hand pressing it to his lips, kissing all over her knuckles.

“Then come feel me too…” she moved upwards, pressing her lips to his, wanting to feel that chapped warmth on hers. And once their mouths met it was a sensation incomparable with anything else. Ironically (or not) making out like this, with their entwined bodies, separated only by the material of his pants, slowly, tenderly, focused only on each other, leaving the whole world behind was turning her on more than actual penetration.

Which did not mean she didn’t want to go all the way.

“Is it time yet?” she whispered, with a little bit of teasing in her voice, breaking the kiss only for a second.

“You are ruining the moment, sunshine.” He chuckled, tracing kisses up her cheek, all the way to her ear, softly biting on her earlobe, causing more tickling than actual pain. Y/N responded with a little chuckle as well, cupping his cheek, bringing his lips back to hers once more. Without breaking the making out for even one second, Y/N removed his belt and undid the button on his pants. Then, with a few kicks and swings of legs, they managed to set him free from his confines, finally feeling each other from head to toe.

“How’s your jealousy doing now…?” he teased, guiding himself to her entrance, grabbing onto her waist, rolling his fingers in tiny circles on her sensitive skin.

“Who’s ruining the moment now?”

“No idea. Who?” he chuckled. It was so good being with her like this. In the moment of intimacy, that was meaningful but deprived of the seriousness that could ruin the tenderness. Perfect mix of softness and love, seasoned with a bit of well balanced humor and  sarcasm that bonded them in the first place. “You ready for me, baby?”

“So ready.” She smiled, shifting and squirming to allow him to slide inside better and maximize the pleasure of unity for them both.

“Mh. Hello there…” he smirked and without missing a bit started to move inside her. Slowly, but intensely. Building up and drawing the tension. Moving hands on her body in time with the thrusts, fueling the fire that was meant to warm but not burn. “Is this what you wanted?” he looked at her face searching for the answers behind those e/c eyes, filled with longing and devotion.  

“Yeah… Good thing you helped me realize what it was that I wanted…” she started matching his movements, kissing him again.

The tension between their bodies was building slowly and steadily. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world, that suddenly shrunk to only them two.

Jason and Y/n.

Y/n and Jason.

Together.

Connecting seamlessly, with bodies joined and heart beating only for one another. Creating their own bubble of beauty and wonder in the darkness and danger of Gotham.

“I love you…” he muttered, leaning forehead on hers, needing to say those words before everything turn into the blur and haze due to the slowly approaching tidal wave of climax.

“I love you…” she responded, feeling the exact same need, knowing well enough that those three little words exchanged before the post-bliss was far more meaningful and far more true.

***

“How’s the hate on horny women doing now?” he muttered against her hair, some time later. It could have been minutes as well as hours cause once they busted the pleasure door open time suddenly became relative and meaningless.

“Hm? What women? Wait a second. Are you really trying to tell me there are other women somewhere?’ she looked at him with a tease, raising an eyebrow playfully. “I am fairly convinced there are only you and me. No other men or women anywhere.”

“Hm… What I’m hearing is that I’m the only guy in the world for you?”

“It depends on—”

“Because sure as hell you are the only woman for me.” He added quickly, knowing what her condition was. “And no silly internet forum or contestant of so-called hot, naughty Netflix show could change it.”

“You got soft, Red Hood.” She smiled, nuzzling into his chest and placing a little kiss on his chest, close to his heart

“I can be hard when it counts, though.” His heart picked up the pace as her lips touched his skin “Honestly I can be anything you may need from me.”

“How about we both stay ourselves?”

“Works for me.”

Jason's arms wrapped around her pulling her to his chest for more and more aftercare and cuddles. It was a quiet night after all and he could indulge in some time with his beloved Y/N.

[g4yforethan]

urge!!!

pairing: art donaldson x male!reader

summary: after an intense workout, a trip in the sauna leaves reader and art alone and enchanted by each other

warnings: cursing, smut, top!art, bottom!reader

a/n: it's been sooo long since i've done this so my apologizes for any typos or shit like that lol

the sun was hitting your skin as sweat dripped down your face and neck. you had been training for hours with art who wouldn't stop until you had beat him in a round of tennis. "come on y/n! you can do it!" he said as he served the ball and hit it towards you. you tried and tried until you basically collapsed to the floor of fatigue and weakness. art came running over with a towel and water. "there there y/n. it's okay i'm here. sorry for overdoing you but i just feel like you have so much potential i gotta work it out of you." yeah or you could fuck it out of me. a thought that entered and quickly exited your head. you got up and sat down in the shade. "i know you mean well art but i just feel so tired and overwhelmed by today. i'm throwing in the fucking towel." art laughed and sat down next to you. "yeah that's fine y/n. we all need our rest every now and then. hey how about we head into the sauna to relax and just clear our heads huh? that'll make you feel better?" he said as he massaged your back.

you nodded your head as the two of you walked towards the sauna. you turned away to remove your clothes but turned the other way to look at art as he took off his clothes and reveal his long and thick cock and muscular ass. you turned back out of respect and guilt and took a towel and put it around your waist. you entered the sauna and sat next to art who laid his head back and had his eyes closed. "hey art are you asleep?" you put your hand on his shoulder. he put his hand on yours and opened his eyes locking his with yours. "no i'm just resting my eyes. why what's up?" he replied. "oh nothing i just. i just wanted to say thank you for everything and for sticking by me. i know i can be a handful." the two of you laughed as you got closer to each other. "yeah of course y/n. you're special. something in you. the drive, strength, the talent. you have it all. just stay with me and i can make you so much better." the tension was strong. the room thickened with steam as hot water dripped down your face. you looked at art with desire and so did he. you got closer and grabbed his face and locked lips with him.

you moaned as his tongue entered your mouth and the both of you struggled to catch a breath. you opened your eyes and felt embarrassed by your actions. "im sorry. i shouldn't have done that. it was- it was wrong i'll go-" you were interrupted by art as he grabbed your body and put you on his lap. "art what the fuck are you doing?" you were shocked by him. "y/n i've always wanted a moment like this. just us two. together. showing how much we want each other. that's all." he said as he reached his hands down and massaged your ass. you began kissing him again and removed your towel and started grinding on his crotch. he moaned and removed his towel as well. "fuck. can i put in?" he asked as you nodded your head. he slowly entered your hole as you softly began to ride him. his cock was thick and filled you perfectly. you placed your hands around his shoulders as he gripped your waist and ass bouncing you up and down.

"fuck yeah y/n. your hole feels so fucking good." art said as he rammed his dick inside you. "fuck. fuck me just like that art." he fucked you like he has been waiting to for years. you suggested a new position and art was eager for what you had in mind. you laid on your back and lifted your legs art quickly re-entered you. you felt his dick stimulate your g-spot as the sensation overfilled your body. your rolled your eyes back as art placed his hand on your neck. "fuck your face looks so hot while i fuck you." art said. as he fucked you, he sucked on your cock to pleasure you more. "ugh fuck fuck art im gonna cum." he smiled as he continued sucking your dick. you gripped his ass as he continued pounding your hole. you came in his mouth as he came in your hole. the session left the both of you out of breath as you both laid on the floor. "haha so did i teach you anything today?" art said as he smiled at you. "yeah you taught me how to give someone the best orgasm ever." you both laughed as you kissed his lips. "well then i'm proud you learned something at least."

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.  

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake. 

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk. 

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations. 

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor. 

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks  to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club. 

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you.  He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer. 

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame. 

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you  grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he  wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?” 

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do. 

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?” 

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again. 

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?” 

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?” 

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe. 

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him. 

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again. 

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt. 

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

[raysrays]

Hashira boyfriends in Squid Games with You

A/n: I’m sorry this is so random and I’m sure someone’s already done this idea but I just finished season two and I’ve had horrible writers block. Please ignore any grammar or typos.

Hashira men find you stuck in the games with them.

Gyomei Himegima:

* Gyomei agreed to participate in the games. Despite being blind, he successfully got through Red Light, Green Light using his heightened senses and incredible mental stability.

* The games penalties greatly upset Gyomei, he could bare to let you or anyone else get hurt just for something like money.

* He holds your hand most if not all the time. He can’t see, so it reassures him to have you close.

* Voting to leave (X): Gyomei would never want to stay in the games, especially after hearing the screams of those eliminated in the first round.

* He is deeply concerned for your safety. As his lover, you’re his top priority, and he would protect you with unwavering dedication. He is also worried about the others, as he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt either.

* During nights or just calm moments after the games, he enjoys braiding and playing with your hair, it just gives him something to do and takes his mind off everything.

* Gyomei’s kind and nurturing nature makes him open to alliances. He would be okay with you both befriending other players and he would act as their protector, his sheer size and presence offering a sense of security.

* During the second round of the mini games, Gyomei would effortlessly complete Flying Stone, he’d succeed on the first try thanks to his precision and strength.

* He prays for you both and often meditates with you to keep a level head.

* During the game mingle he would stick to you like glue using his size as an advantage to make sure you both stay together the whole time no matter what number of people was chosen.

* No one dares to mess with you or even approach you recklessly, knowing your boyfriend is a towering, intimidating figure. While gentle at heart, his imposing demeanor keeps trouble at bay.

* Gyomei would undoubtedly join an alliance focused on taking down the creators of the games, determined to put an end to the suffering and injustice. As much as he hates bloodshed, he thinks of you and how unsafe it is for you both to be stuck in there.

“Try not to worry so much my dear, we will be out soon.”

Sanemi Shinzazugawa:

* Once the first game of red light, green light started, he would immediately lock in and make sure you stayed behind him at all times.

* Sanemi would be furious and defiant upon realizing the deadly stakes of the games. He’d see it as a messed up joke at first but quickly adapt, relying on his survival instincts. He’d remain sharp eyed and alert, constantly scanning for threats and potential alliances, though his trust in others would be non-existent.

* Voting to stay (O): Though he was shocked at first, he knows the both of need the money, and he’s so confident in his own abilities he believes he could easily win all while keeping you safe.

* Sanemi’s aggressive and no-nonsense attitude would make him a formidable player. He’d Approach each game with calculated brutality, ensuring the both of you survive.

* Even though the other players refer to him as a “hot head” or “cocky bastard” you know the real sanemi. You can tell deep down he’s scared too.

* During the second round of mini games he had chosen to take on the role of Ddakji, it took him a couple tries because he was so tense but eventually he got it without wasting too much time.

* He would gladly Intimidate competitors who posed a threat, his aura alone warding off most challengers. He isn’t afraid to engage in physical confrontation if necessary, especially if anyone tried to harm you.

* He gives you almost all his food insisting you need to eat more.

* When it comes to you Sanemi’s protective instincts would kick into overdrive. He would protect you from any form of physical harm, even at the risk of his own life.

* If anyone even looks at you in a way he doesn’t like he’s got hands on you immediately not just in a possessive manor, but in a protective one.

* He would make sure to share strategies, ensure you conserved your strength, and keep your spirits up in quieter moments.

* during the game “mingle” Sanemi would keep you close and if for some reason you got separated he would be a wreck until he got his eyes on you again.

* In situations requiring teamwork, Sanemi would rely only on himself and you. He’d distrust alliances, expecting betrayal, but might reluctantly cooperate if the games forced it.

* Sanemi’s temper and blunt demeanor might cause friction, but you would likely be his rock, grounding him in moments of despair or frustration. The chaos of the games might bring out his more vulnerable side, revealing how deeply he cares for his you and how far he’d go to protect you.

“Shut up and stop trying to act tough. I’m not losing you in here, got it?”

Giyu Tomioka:

* During the first game of Red light, green light Giyu would handle this game with calm precision. He’d keep a close eye on you, subtly guiding you with hand signals or quiet encouragement to make sure you both survive.

* Giyu’s initial reaction to the stakes of the games would likely be stoic and measured. He wouldn’t waste time panicking, instead focusing on understanding the rules. His natural wariness would make him suspicious of the organizers and other players, but he’d keep his thoughts to himself, silently observing everyone’s behavior.

* Voting to leave (X): Giyu’s decision during the vote would be to go home, he needed money but not at the risk of losing his life and especially with you here as well. In his mind nothing matters more than you.

* Giyu’s calm and logical demeanor would be his greatest asset. He’d Focus on surviving the games with as little conflict as possible, using his intelligence and foresight to navigate challenges.

* while keeping up this stoic facade he’d take comfort in your small quiet moments. Wether it’s just laying in each others arms for the night or a slight touch as you pass one another on the way to the game hall.

* He’d Avoid drawing attention to himself or to you, preferring that you both try blending into the background and observing the competition.

* He often takes your hand rubbing it in his, you think it’s to calm you down but truthfully it’s to calm himself.

* When the second round of mini games starts Giyu would choose to play gongi he recalls his sister playing it with him when he was younger and he did extremely well.

* Giyu’s devotion to you would shine through in quiet but impactful ways: He’d protect you from emotional and physical stress, ensuring you were prepared for each game and providing reassurance when the tensions grew.

* In physical challenges, he’d act as your personal shield, taking risks to ensure your survival. He’d subtly guide you through the games requiring strategy, using his analytical mind to predict outcomes and plan their moves together.

* in the game “mingle” Giyu and you both trust each other enough to let one another get split up, confident in the other’s ability to group up and stay alive.

* Giyu would also keep a close eye on potential threats, ready to intervene if anyone targeted you or him. While he wouldn’t seek out confrontation, his quiet intensity would be enough to deter most aggressors.

* Though Giyu rarely expresses his emotions openly, the stress of the games and the danger to you would weigh heavily on him. His love for you would serve as both a source of strength and vulnerability, pushing him to make sacrifices he might not otherwise consider. He’d likely blame himself for any close calls or mistakes, but your presence would help him stay grounded.

“Stay vigilant, and be careful who you trust. We have each other, we really don’t need anyone else.”

Iguro Obanai:

* During the first game Obanai’s precise movements and calm demeanor would make this game relatively straightforward for him. He would carefully time his movements, advancing only when the doll’s voice and head movements were predictable. He’d ensure you moved at the same speed as him, keeping you calm and signaling when it was safe to advance. If you struggled, he’d guide you verbally or physically.

* Obanai would likely remain composed but tense, his mistrustful nature making him hyper vigilant. He’d quickly assess the situation, recognizing the seriousness of the games. His immediate focus would be on ensuring your safety while trying to find weaknesses in other players and the game’s structure.

* Against your wishes he’s already sorting out the weak from the strong.

* Voting to stay (O): Like Sanemi, Obanai recalls he’s here for a reason, and that reason is to win money and get out of debt, and he’s confident he can get you both to the end alive.

* Obanai’s sharp intellect, agility, and stealth would make him an great player. He’d approach each game with precision, treating it as a battlefield where strategy and timing were key.

* He insists you sleep in the same bed, he can’t sleep unless you are there with him.

* In the mini games he’d choose to do Gongi, The gongi game’s reliance on timing would be a strong suit for Obanai. He’d use his quick reflexes to scoop and catch the pieces efficiently, keeping control.

* during your chosen mini game he’d keep encouraging you softly, giving subtle touches on your back and shoulder just to let you know he’s there with you.

* He’d keep a low profile, avoiding unnecessary attention and conflicts while carefully observing other players for potential threats.

* He has a sharp tongue, it’s just his nature. Whenever he hears other players say something he finds stupid he can’t help but make a sarcastic remark almost landing him in many fights until you swoop in and break it up.

* His snake companion, Kaburamaru, could provide subtle advantages, like scouting or detecting traps, depending on the game.

* during the game “mingle” He’d struggle to pair with others but would rely on you to help navigate social dynamics. He’d observe players carefully, seeking out those who seemed trustworthy or capable, though he’d approach alliances cautiously.

* Obanai’s devotion to you would drive all his decisions. He’d stay physically close to you during games, positioning himself between you and danger and offer quiet advice or encouragement, helping you remain calm and focused.

* His mistrust of others would mean he’d avoid alliances unless absolutely necessary. Even then, he’d be wary, ensuring that no one could exploit or harm you.

* The games would take a toll on Obanai emotionally. His deep love for you, combined with the high stakes, would amplify his anxiety. He’d likely internalize his fears, appearing stoic outwardly while silently carrying the weight of your survival.

“Stay close to me and don’t go wondering off, we don’t know these people. We can’t trust them.”

Tengen Uzui:

* During the first game, Tengen’s exceptional reflexes would make this game almost effortless for him. He’d move confidently even using the opportunity to scout potential threats among the players. He’d keep you close, making sure you are always behind him and offering encouragement or assistance if you started to feel afraid or discouraged.

* Lays with you in bed and runs his fingers through your hair to calm you down.

* Tengen would unfortunately view the chaos of the games as a flashy spectacle, He’d immediately assess the situation with his usual composure, quickly figuring out strategies to navigate the games.

* While outwardly flamboyant and seemingly unbothered, Tengen would be hyper-focused on analyzing the games and players, ensuring you both stayed ahead.

* He’d hide any fear or anxiety to keep you calm, using his charisma and humor to ease the tension.

* Voting to stay (O): Tengen is a flashy man, and he definitely has the over confidence to think he’s taking all that money home with you both no issue. He insures you he will protect you and that You both are making it out alive.

* When choosing a mini game Tengen goes for spinning top, he thinks it’s simple, and he truthfully just thought the top looked the “most flashy” in his opinion.

* Tengen’s combination of physical strength, strategic thinking, and charm would make him one of the strongest players. His ability to adapt to any situation and use his theatrical personality to manipulate others would set him apart.

* During mingle Tengen’s got a constant hold on you, he would tear people out of a room if it meant keeping you both safe.

* Tengen would ensure your survival above all else, using his strength, speed, and charm to shield you both from danger. His confidence and playful demeanor would help you stay calm and focused, even in the direst situations.

“Don’t cry Angel, I’m a god remember? I’ll keep you safe.”

Kyojuro Rengoku:

* During the first game, Kyojuro’s sharp reflexes and discipline would make this game pretty easy. He’d move confidently, never doubting his ability to stop in time.

* His hand is not leaving your wrist. You will be next to him for this game and all the others.

* Kyojuro is a lover before he’s anything, his whole reason for being here was to make up for all his debt so he could care for you.

* He would genuinely be shocked and angered by the brutality of the games, he’s kind hearted and this all feels so unfair. He’d keep his head up and try to encourage others and protect you at all costs.

* Voting to leave (X): Kyojuro is getting you both out of there. Watching other people die playing games for money is messed up, but you being in there is too much for him.

* Out of the mini games he’s pick Ddakji. Kyojuro’s physical strength and precision would give him an edge. He’d approach the game with enthusiasm, treating it like a test of his skill.

* During Mingle you can forget about splitting up. As stated before he’s always got a hand on you.

* He’d form alliances with trustworthy players, ensuring the both of you were part of a strong group. He’d use his persuasive nature to protect you from being left out or targeted.

* Kyojuro’s combination of physical strength, strategic thinking, and unshakable optimism would make him one of the strongest participants in the games. He’s genuinely kind and would definitely earn allies, while his determination and strength would keep you both safe.

“Stay calm little flame, we are going to be okay. Stay behind me, I’m going to keep you safe.”

[dandyslibrary]

🐚📺 & 🍓🍰 x 🌸 THOUGHTS

I love you for this because this is ACTUALLY my first thoughts ask, so congrats to you anon! <33

Now usually the thoughts things I see are just straightforward and allat yummy stuff, but sometimes I get jumpscared with nsfw or angst midway!

there’s gonna be angst AND fluff in here! So watch out !

POSSIBLY OOC , and also grammar errors + typos

To be honest I’ve never really thought that much about poly ships x reader, or how I feel about them. Though I really do love the idea of it. I don’t really have a favorite ‘toon x toon’ ship but if I had to choose it would definitely be Shelly x Vee x Astro ,,

NOW don’t come after me for that but it’s cute. ANYWAY STARTING THE THOUGHTS !

we’re gonna start off with Shellvision x Reader,,

now.. LOWKEY there cute. I love everything about my lesbians. Their dynamic is so adorable! Like the past x future thing

So hear me out on this.. Shelly being prehistoric inspired, vee being modern inspired, and then [Y/n] is old money or 80’s inspired? Like not old enough to be like Shelly, but not new to be like vee..

IS MY VISION VISIONING!?!? Urgh so sorry for my bad English, but anyway. Continuing my thoughts!!

Shelly would SOOO yap about her dinosaur facts to you. And you ARE going to listen to it. No like don’t say that you won’t I will make you listen to her beautiful angelic voice (I say as if she has a canon voice)

Personally I’m a big dinosaur nerd! I love Dino’s, AND when I found out she’s also a Dino enthusiast I WAS SO OVERJOYEDD

like how is she even the most forgotteeennn ☹️☹️..

NO CUZ SHE WOULD GO LIKE

”Oh! Did you know the Carnotaurus would swing their arms around when they encounter a potential mate? Their arms aren’t really that useless! I think they’re cute!” Shelly beamed showing you a photo of the dinosaur. You’d just nod and gasp everytime.

You enjoy listening to her. You enjoy seeing her happy.

but hear me out.. what would be more silly is that!!.. YOU ALSO SPEW FACTS AT HER TOO!! Like AAAA

“oh woah! that’s actually really cool! Oh and did you know that the skull of a dimorphodon is bulky, but it has large holes in its skull so its light enough to fly?” you stated.

You both would soo exchange Dino facts back and forth. (Me)

BUT WHAT ABOUT FOR OLD MONEY/80’s INSPO Y/N!?!!

Just two lovers talking about their times exchanging facts back and forth..

IM SORRH I HAVE NO IDEAS FOR TBIS ONE BUT I DO HAVE FOR VEE.. URGRHH vee.

Old money Y/n always joining on on Vee’s game shows just to fluster her and make her stumble upon her words..

She loves the praises! Really, she loves them A LOT.. but could you not tell her that she looks divine. On live.

Though she’s more into you praising her off camera, she’ll take your praises either way.

Oh and you can’t have Old Money x Modern ages Dynamic w/o the fighting! It just makes the trope soo much better ykyk

You guys just fighting over which era is better. But then you collectively agree on the prehistoric era.

but.. what’s even better is that both Shelly and vee would fight for your attention <33

It’s not like fighting punching kicking, just cute little fights that won’t cause any harm. In the end you all get to spend time with each other anyway!

Shelly would want to spend time with you because she wants to tell you more dinosaur facts. And then Vee wants you to go with her because she wants you to join her game show!

In the end it’s either you and Shelly join vee’s game show and it’s filled with dinosaur questions (scraps somehow wins because if lucky guesses). Or you and vee join Shelly as you cuddle up in a blanket as Shelly tells you guys facts about dinosaurs.

she’s silly. you’re all silly

also scenario idea!! gentleman/woman reader x shell vision..

YOU KEEO THE DOORS OPEN FOR THEM YOU CARRY THEIR STUFF YOU HELP THEM WITH EVERYTHING YOU KISS THE BACK OF THEIR PALM AAAA OIH MY GOOLLYYYY

Dino obsessed you x Shelly who’s also Dino obsessed x Vee who knows it all , she listens to you guys rant about dinosaurs either way because she loves you two.

next we got fruitcake !! SPROUT AND COSMO <33

Oh they’re actually so silly, they’re my babes my faves my SLAYS… though cosmo keeps on appearing in my diddly darn runs

BUT !! Of course we’re gonna go with the very basic baker reader x fruitcake

NO BECAUSE ITS REALLY CUTE

You sillies just hanging out in the kitchen baking with each other, not having a single care in the world of what’s what. Baking each other sweets <33

Yk that one song that goes,, ‘baking cookies for my love I stir and mix !!’

that’s you. that’s so you,

Yes you will be baking cookies for your love you stir and mix,, uh oh how long has this butter been out to sit..

ANYWAY

You guys would definitely bake each other things like daily, love language? Gift giving. Receiving and giving. DEFINITELY TOTALLY ACCURATE RAAAAGHHH

I feel like Cosmo would be so giddy after he receives your goodies. You would write notes and letters to him and he’d be over the moon.

He feels his face heat up whenever you kiss him… well anywhere — !!

Cosmo is actually so silly I love his freckles so much!

If your love language is more onto physical touch then I think it’s impossible to not pamper cosmo’s face with kisses. I would do that.

he’d be so flustered and happy after that! oh and if you don’t know how to bake. Him and sprout would definitely teach you how!

OH AND MY GOSH SPROUT <33

He’d be possessive (sorry guys I love possessive men)

He has a soft spot for you and cosmo it’s so sweet I love it sobbing,, he’d be so caring for the both of you like literally I love him

AND THEN HIM WITH GIFT GIVING READER !!

everytime you bake something and give it to him he feels flattered, but he’s worried that you would bake too many things then get tired.

He doesn’t like seeing you all tired, and it’s because of him.

But he is thankful for your gifts! Really he loves all of them. Oh and he also bakes stuff for you too and one time it kinda became like a competition to who bakes their lover the most sweets,, cosmo the referee

it was all fun in games anyway so it’s fine trust

I know sprout would be head over heels for physical affection y/n! He would love that you’d always have your arm around him or he would have his arm around you at all times.

No matter what you guys are always together, with cosmo OF COURSE, holding hands or touching shoulders..

NOTHING WILL SEPERSTE YOU GIYS

so far it’s been fluff but I wanna bring in some angst..

fruitcake is such a fluffy ship that I wanna poison so bad. I want to make the teeth rotting fluff turn into burning heart aching angst.

Manipulative Y/n x Fruitcake,, NOW NOW HEAR ME OUT OLEASE

by the wayyy.. I don’t support toxic relationships or manipulative behaviour. I enjoy dark writing but trust me this is not the ideal relationship.

anyways..

So obviously Cosmo is the most easiest to manipulate, you gaslight him so much and you keep on guilt tripping his poor ass.

He just feels so bad about everything and himself now because of you. And he doesn’t even blame you. He blames himself!

Whenever you see him with another toon you get to work immediately. You see him and you start working the crocodile tears. Saying how could he spend some time with another person but not you!

Cosmo rushes to comfort you of course! Hugging and giving you all he has.

Sprouts not as gullible as Cosmo though. He knows this relationship is toxic. He knows it’s bad. But he loves you.

He can change you.

He knows he can change you. You must love him too right? So you’d try for him as much as he and cosmo tries for you?

Sprout and Cosmo blinded by love while you want control. You don’t even love them. It’s sad really

AND WADABAM THOSE ARE MY THOUGHTS! I hope you like them pop anon <33 hehe

source 4 banner; @cafekitsune (also is it okay if I just put the credits in the tag?)

[sednas]

─ TAKE YOU LIKE A DRUG I TASTE YOU ON MY TONGUE.

FT. toji fushiguro x fem!reader featuring my daddy issues

TW. dd/lg, half mean half gentle!toji, sub!reader, daddy issues, thigh riding, oral (m receiving), slight dumbification, praise and degradation, public s!x (at first), creampie, p!ssy slapping (once), 2k+ words

♡♡♡. sorry for the potential typos/ugly sentences, it's been a long day but i really wanted to post this

you met toji during the first semester of college, when your parents moved out to get closer to the place where you were studying.

it all started out innocent. quick glances, lingering hands on the skin, a few smirks and playful winks, smalltalk about college and work...

he was tall, dark hair, deep green eyes, a scar on the corner of his lips, big hands, broad shoulders, strong thighs...

every time you'd come back home for the weekends you expected him to finally have settled down with one of the numerous women in the neighborhood, all salivating over him.

but he stayed single, and you could fantasize about him without the annoying thought of his pretty wife sucking him off. as years went by, your crush on him got pretty obvious, you became more confident, trying to give him the hint that he could do whatever he wanted with you. but toji was blind to your signs, or at least that's what he was pretending to be.

his ignorance toward you left a bittersweet taste on your tongue, putting you as nothing more than the plain daughter of his neighbor, and you felt like fifteen again, ignored by the boy you liked.

which brings us to tonight, a few days after your graduation. you came back to your parent's place and you can't seem to sleep, sitting on the grass, you look up at the stars and think of all the things that are awaiting for you now that you're done with college. it's scary and exciting at the same time. you'll be leaving the city for your dream job soon, and there's only one regret that comes to your mind.

“beautiful night uh?” you hear a deep voice coming from the darkness of the night. speaking of the devil... it's toji, he just sat down on a chair a few meters away from you in the neighborhood's common garden, he has a drink in his hand, you can't tell what's in it but it's probably alcohol.

“I've heard that you graduated. I always knew you were a smart girl, your parents must be proud of you.” he says, his green eyes lazily resting on you.

you shrugged your shoulders, still sitting on the grass.

“my dad barely said that he was proud of me...” you laugh bitterly. why are you even talking about this? he doesn't care, he just wants to make a quick small talk.

a few seconds of silence go by... you see toji moving, patting the seat next to him. it's... unexpected, but you can't let go of such an occasion to be closer to him, and without a word you go sit down. he extends his legs with a sigh. your eyes linger on him in a not so subtle manner. he's wearing a black tank top with gray baggy sweatpants.

“your dad's just not great with words, I'm sure he's very proud of you.”

you don't say anything, not trusting your voice right now, feeling like a lost little girl even though you're past twenties. he must surely pity you by now, and you hate it.

“do you need to hear it?”

“what do you mean?” you ask, arching an eyebrow, and you see him shift on his seat until he's facing you, your knees touching.

“alright... gimme your hands.” he says, and even though it's an order his voice is soft and reassuring. you obey, putting your hands in his. the skin of his hands is calloused, you can tell he's been working with them all of his life.

you can feel your heart beating faster and harder inside your chest, unsure of what you're going to do once he will speak. you're so close to him, of course you already had conversations with him, but this one feels too intimate, both of you alone in the darkness of the night... anything could happen.

“I'm very proud of you. you told me before that you were anxious about the future but I'm sure it will all turn out to be okay. you've got that light in your eyes, I'm not quite sure how to describe it but it's bright and I know you'll make a good use of it.” he finally says and for a few seconds you both drown in a silence where you can only hear the sound of crickets.

within a second, your lips crash into his as he lets out a surprised moan which comes out muffled, feeling your soft hands running down on his forearms, sending shivers down his spine.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he finally asks, pulling away from you. your heart stops for a second, hearing him raise his voice at you, but he unexpectedly pulls you in for another kiss, his hand snaking up behind your neck and this time you're the one moaning against his mouth.

“been wanting you for so damn long.” he mumbles as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips and making you feel empty brained. you clutch on his chest, heart fluttering to his words.

“re-really? I thought you didn't like me...” you can't believe what you're hearing, your body trembles slightly as toji kisses your neck and nods his head.

“how could I not like such a sweet girl like you.” he purred in a low, baritone voice, his hands slowly sliding down your waist to guide you on his lap, letting you feel how hard he is against you.

you let out a gasp when you feel him start to rock your hips on his thigh, his green eyes piercing through yours. “you think I didn't notice the way you were looking at me for all those years. how your outfits got sluttier just to have a crumble of my attention uh? just imagine how many times I've fucked myself imagining you taking my cock like the good girl I know you fucking are.”

you moan, feeling pure bliss at this revelation as his big hands keep forcing you to hump his thigh. you can feel your pussy getting dragged all the way up and down his clothed hard cock, giving you a hint of how big it is. both of you moan when your pussy lips engulf his tip through your shorts and soon enough a wet spot starts to form on his sweatpants.

“fucking hell Y/N, look at you... I don't know how I resisted fucking you for so long when your body is that perfect to play with. fuck!- but I'm done holding back, I'm gonna fucking ruin you.” he grunts, his voice still low and dominant, his fingers digging into your plump skin.

the fact that you're in the neighborhood's common garden is already long forgotten, you don't care about the whole city seeing you in this position, you've wanted this for too long. your pussy is throbbing, the soft material of his pants rubbing deliciously against your hardened clitoris, your tongue almost comes out of your mouth while toji watches your dumb expression with delight.

“gonna cum... I'm... I'm...” your whiney voice echoes through the silent night and toji bounces and flexes his thigh on purpose, taking you over the edge as he whispers praises against your ear. you come in a muffled cry, biting toji's shoulder to silence your cute moans.

toji gives you a few minutes to rest, caressing your hair and giving your thighs reassuring strokes every time he feels your body twitch on top of him. in a gentle gesture, he takes your chin in his hand to look at your face.

“let's go to my room yeah? I want to give you more.” you can only nod your head as you both leave the garden and head over to his house. the whole place is plunged in darkness and you follow him closely not to trip over anything, your arm wrapped around his own in a clingy way while he guides you to his bed.

he gets on top of you, removing your shorts and your top in a fast motion, so smoothly that you barely notice that you're now half naked under him. you suddenly feel shy under his warm gaze which devours your body and you turn your head to avoid his eyes.

“don't turn all shy now sweetheart, your body is a work of art.” he murmurs, his hot breath tickling your skin before kissing your neck. his hands travel up to your chest, playing with your tits and gently pinching your nipples.

“ahh~ please, daddy...” you whine without thinking, and toji suddenly stops what he's doing, lifting his head to look into your eyes. his pupils are dilated, his gaze darkened by lust and need. you can feel him squeeze your skin a little bit harder than before, and you whine again.

“is it true? am I your daddy?” he teases, bringing his hand close to your inner thighs, caressing them with the tip of his digits. his cock never ached to be inside someone like this, he can feel it twitch and throb inside his pants, begging to know how your little pussy feels like.

“yes, yes you are, please daddy, I need you... want you to feel good too...” you beg, your hands clutching on his chest once again, trying to remove his clothes but it's no easy task in your position and with how your body is trembling.

toji wears a boyish smirk at your words, thinking about how cute you look and sound right now. he brings his face close to yours, his lips only a few inches away from your open mouth. “yeah? do you want to make daddy feel good?” and he smiles when you nod eagerly. he stands up, gently dragging you toward the edge of the bed, letting your head suspended in the air.

“alright, you know what's coming next, don't you baby?” as an answer, you open your mouth, presenting your tongue and waiting for him. he huffs with amusement at your hunger, finally freeing his cock and sighing of relief. he taps the tip against your tongue, smearing your saliva all over it. before you can whine with impatience he pushes it right in, sliding his entire length down your throat in one smooth motion of his hips.

“god... I wonder if your pussy is as tight as your throat...” toji groans, biting his bottom lip to prevent any slutty moans to come out of him. your greedy tongue swirls around his leaking tip, and you moan whenever you feel a vein drags along the curves of your lips.

you feel light headed, with your head hanging in the air, half naked in the bed of the man you like, his balls slapping against your face. he lets out a moan, watching your tits bounce and the buldge that his cock is forming inside your throat, his eyes roll back, one more minute and he's going to cum down your throat.

he makes you choke on his cock one last time before pulling out, the action earning a disappointed whimper from you. “don't whine you baby.” he warns with a smug look on his face, manhandling once more to put you on your back.

“but I...” he hushed you by slapping your clothed cunt and tears immediately start to form in the corner of your eyes and he almost regrets what he just did, seeing your teary expression.

“it's okay baby. just be a good girl and let me do what I want with you, you're gonna like it I promise.” you nod as he massages your pussy, and once you say “yes daddy” he's a goner, tearing your panties apart, he presses his cock against your puffy clit, making you jolt under him.

he lifts your hips and enters you in one second, your wetness immediately coating his cock, making it easier for him to sink deep inside you. “good... good... how do you feel so fucking good...” toji rambles in his low voice, and it makes you spread your legs wider. you don't know when he removed his clothes but he's as naked as you now, you almost whimper at the sight, wrapping your legs around his slutty waist.

“does that feel good baby?... fuck, you look so dumb right now.” he chuckles darkly, his big hand gently slapping your cheek before holding your whole face in it. you try to get your half lidded eyes to focus on his face, with his dark hair adorning his facial features and his eyes shining with lust as his cock keeps reaching deep for that spongy spot inside you. it's too much for you to handle.

you start babbling incoherent words, all interrupted by whines as your head falls on the pillows. his bedsheets smell like him, it almost makes you feel tipsy, drunk on his strong, masculine scent. you want to stay here forever, drowned in him. “daddy, daddy...” you keep repeating, your legs quivering as he towers you, his arms caging your face.

toji smiles, kissing your cheek as his thrusts keep getting faster and faster. “you're such a good girl, taking my cock like the good little whore that you are... ah fuck-!” he curses, feeling your hands clawing at his back. he looks at your face, feeling his cock twitches at the sight.

“I'm... I'm gonna cum again...” you try to speak, your eyes rolling back as his mushroom tip pushes against your cervix, making you arch your back and see stars.

“let it all go for me Y/N, I'm here for you.” just what you needed to hear. you whimper a weak “daddy” one last time as shockwaves of pleasure run through your body, your pussy spasming and throbbing around his cock. your vision goes blank, all you can hear is the voice of toji throwing praises at you against your ear while he tries his best not to lose his mind to the feeling of you gushing all over him.

“good girl... you really do have the best pussy god damn it...” the rest of his sentence is just a gasp, his hands shaking slightly as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to his own release.

“breed me... daddy. please breed me...” you manage to plead through your hazy state and who is he to deny you when you asked so sweetly? with his hands firmly gripping your waist he cums deep inside you, releasing a string of moans that sounds like music to your ears.

you feel so full once he's done, your body still twitching under him as he finally comes down from his high, and the first thing he does is to pepper your face with kisses, sweetly humming when he feels you running your hands through his hair.

“good fucking god... I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my life...” he sighs, laughing a little and falling on his back next to you. he reaches out for your hand, kissing the back of it. it must be a dream, how are you still not waking up?...

“I really meant what I said earlier. I'm proud of you... you took that cock so well...” he laughs in a low voice when you gently hit his chest, his right arm circling around your waist to bring you closer to his body.

“no but for real... I'm proud of you, I'll give you all the love you deserve.”

jjk masterlist

[lil-quinnie]

Pity party

part I

Warning +18 smut, jealous Eddie

Summary college au After Eddie kissed the girl in front of you, you decide you NEED to move on.

F!boy Eddie x Plus size reader

a/n: Hi guys, sorry for the delay in posting part 2. I was very insecure about the story and this year I started working as a full time teacher so time is also very limited, anyway. Sorry for any typo or mistake, i'm brazilian god danmitt. I hope you like it <3

-

The return to your dorm was humiliating, you tried to explain everything that had happened amid sobs and inaudible words, Steve tried to support most of your weight in his arms as he guided you safely to your room. The boy tried to comfort you the whole way, even though he knew what his best friend had done would be difficult to reverse.

With the promise of a call he left the room and disappeared down the crowded halls of the girls' dormitory.

11am

you woke up to an excited call from Robin and Steve, talking about a party that was going to happen that night and how it would be the perfect opportunity for you to try to get a certain metalhead out of your head.

"so, there will be this band and I'm sure one of the members will be your type...I promise" Steve said without thinking, receiving an elbow in the ribs from his best friend "dingus" Robin said rolling her eyes "We pick you up at 8?" the girl asked hopefully.

Even though you didn't want to interact with a lot of people, you agreed that staying in bed wouldn't solve your problem. "Yeah, okay, I'll be ready at 8, bye, see you guys"

-

19pm

One last check in the mirror before hearing Steve's horn followed by Robin's loud laughter. 

You could already see the number of people in the frat garden, indicating that the party was packed. "It's harder to find him this way" you thought , at the same time Steve squeezed your leg, checking if everything was ok.

The blue lights of the crowded living room hurt your eyes, the cigarette smoke turned into fog on the floor of the house, making those lights refract 10 times stronger back at your eyes. Nancy already had a drink for you in her hand because Robin had already told her everything, welcoming you with a smile and a hug as always. 

When she let you go, the girl said just so you could hear "Eddie is looking for you”, causing you to pour the cheap liquid from the cup down your throat in one go.

-

On the other side of the house, the metalhead was negotiating his sales, even though it was a good day and he had sold almost everything he had brought, Eddie couldn't change the uncomfortable expression on his face. 

His mind always brought back the vision of you and Steve hugging, or holding hands, hell even your schedule Steve knew and he didn't, the green bug of jealousy spent all day on his shoulder, blowing fears into his ear that he had been trying to keep away for decades.

Eddie was hustling around the party, looking for potential clients and for you. He saw Robin at the party so of course you were here too.

Some people stopped him to talk, some girls offering themselves as payment (it was no longer new to him), others trying to flirt without it being so obvious, a normal night if you were Eddie Munson.

While finishing a sale he heard your laugh, causing him to turn his entire body towards the origin of the sound, "Fuck" he thought.

Your cleavage revealed the soft mounds of your breasts, making his face burn with jealousy at the thought of anyone else being able to see what should be just his. “Harrington, of course,” he huffed as he put the crumpled bills in his pocket watching Steve making you laugh. 

Eddie's eyes were shining in a purple light, never leaving your face, moving from your cleavage to your eyes and your lips, the tip of his tongue insisted on leaving his pink lip moist and shining, delicious it looked.

Eddie didn't understand what was happening, why his heart raced every time you smiled at someone else or why there was a knot in his stomach every time Steve pulled you closer, or touched your thigh while telling you a story as if you were his, but you weren't, right?

Steve excused himself from a ‘lil crown and threw himself on the old sofa next to you "hi" he said, you responded in the same tone with a shy smile, looking at each other for a while, it could be alcohol or even joints but damn! Steve was really handsome and you’re pretty sure he thinks the same about you.

Soon everybody went to fill their glasses or smoke outside, except Robin who danced with Vickie as if she didn't have early classes tomorrow, leaving you and Steve in your own bubble.

What made Eddie most angry was the fact that you seemed so comfortable with Steve, in the way he couldn't make you feel, he thought. Eddie could never make you stay close to him among a lot of people, you always found an excuse to go to the dorm or any empty place while with Steve... "fucking hell" he exclaimed, while passing the bag with the customer's product. 

Eddie needed something stronger than weed if he wanted to swallow all of his wounded ego to get to you, and he couldn't do it dry. He poured the glass full of whiskey and downed it in two sips, letting a few drops of the golden liquid run down the corner of his mouth wiping it with the back of his hand, determined not to let anything pave the way to you.

You couldn't help the smile that widened every time he got closer. The rosy cheeks showed that Eddie had been drinking, a few curls of hair coming out of his low bun and that smile of someone who wants to be confident even though they're scared... 

How could you be mad at him? how you could cut him out of your life while he gave you that half smile he only gave when he was embarrassed, which was rare for a guy like him.

When Steve's fingers intertwined with yours, Eddie decided he had had enough of that and with his double shot of whiskey, he swallowed all his pride to go talk to you.

His hands in his jacket pocket only showed how uncomfortable he was, even more so after the disaster that happened last night, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to talk to you again before the night ended. 

On the other side, you and Steve didn't notice as the metalhead approached, still lost in your own world, exchanging too many small caresses and smiles.

He could hear your voice clearly, he even swore he could already smell the moisturizer that covered your skin, so close that he could feel you under his fingerprints.

He cleared his throat trying to get the attention of the two sitting on the sofa, when he realized that he was unsuccessful, he kicked Steve's Nike, who quickly turned his head, letting a HA! to escape from his lips going together with his hands clapping in the air "Munson" he smiled sarcastically, "Harrington" Eddie raised his browns and then turned around for you "can we talk?"

"I don't know, can we?" you said, getting up from the sofa and pulling Steve with you, who protectively wrapped his arm around your waist, hugging you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder, "I have nothing to talk to you right now, Eddie", you said while broking away from Steve's hug, signaling him to lead the way away from there.

"Please, let me talk to you", but before he could hold you, you turned and snapped 

"Isn't there anyone to save you again Eddie? That's why you're coming after me?",

Steve was amused by the situation, it wasn't often that he managed to get under Eddie's skin, so he planned to enjoy it.

"Follow my lead" he said with that smirk on his face.

Steve started to dance with you innocently but noticing the other man's gaze, he decided to be bold.. He had your back pressed against his hairy chest as you danced together to the beat of the music. 

One of his hands held your hips against his crotch, while the other danced down your body side, stopping at your hip and pulling you closer against the tent that was beginning to form in the boy's tight jeans.

Eddie watched everything from the other side of the room, his eyes following every slow movement your body made, burning holes in the uncovered skin of your cleavage. 

Every time Steve pressed his body against yours, Eddie looked away and sawed his fists, causing Steve to proudly smile.

Steve's eyes were locked with eddies while his mouth timidly explored the skin of your shoulder and neck, causing goosebumps that only a metalhead had caused to this day, when he realized that you didn't stop him, he was braver, leaving love bites on the exposed skin. 

Eddie noticed when your thighs pressed together, tighter every time Steve's mouth came close to yours. 

Eddie's heart missed the beat, it felt like hours of torture having to watch you like that with someone else, with his best friend on top of that.

Even though you understood the game Steve was playing, you decided to let yourself go and enjoy the little attention you rarely received. Seeing Eddie's reaction, watching each micro expression that appeared on his face was satisfying, with his knurled eyebrows and wrinkled nose you know that he was feeling the same thing you felt when he did the same in front of you.

"I need to go to the bathroom, angel. Do you want me to fill your cup?" Steve whispered in your ear and you just nodded, letting Steve go with a smile.

This was Eddie's chance to talk to you once and for all, and he no longer had the patience to put up with you being a brat. 

He knew that you would go outside, that you would light a cigarette and that you would wait for Harrington until he arrived with another alcohol bomb, he also knew that if he didn't do anything, he would lose you forever.

The mild temperature due to the late hour of the morning itched your exposed skin, causing goosebumps while you unsuccessfully tried to light your cigarette, too frustrated with everything around you to really pay attention to your surroundings.

“Here” you heard a husky voice coming from near the pool house “let me help you”.

The man approached slowly, the darkness using her cloak to cover your lover's face, only making you realize it was him, by fate's trap, when it was too late.

“I’m good, Edward. Thank you very much” you replied,

"What the hell is all that? What the fuck did I do to make you like this, Huh?” Eddie held your arms tightly, forcing you to look at him, you saw the anxiety and confusion that showed in his eyes, which caused an immeasurable pleasure to ignite in the pit of your stomach as you pressed his buttons more and more.

"What do you think I am Eddie? Just a toy when you don't have one of those dumb girls to fuck?" you spat at him with no mercy "and what do you think you are for him right now?" he said dryly,  "More than I ever was to you, right?"  he looks… hurt.

“Are you even listening to yourself? you’re sounding delusional.” he said letting your arm go.

“Oh! Poor Munson, where's Heather? giving a blowjob to some basketball player before ending up in your bed?" you cringed at the words that should have stayed in your head, giving up on the cigarette and making your way out the conversation.

“WOW!! Who stuck a stick up your ass, cutie? Was it Stevie?” He whispered in your ear, making you pull your arm free from Eddie's grip, leaving the mark of your five fingers on the boy's rosy cheek.

“Ed… I.. I'm" 

"Shut up, just shut the heck up ok?! I'm done with you” he said harshly, making you scared and before  you could say something, apologize or anything, Eddie was pulling you inside the pool house. 

You could feel the beats of the muffled music on the cold wall that Eddie pressed your body against. 

"Eddie, I'm sorry" you pleaded, almost begging, he pinch the bridge of his nose shaking his head in disbelief “let’s talk, please” you pleaded one more time.

"Of course sweetheart, NOW you wanna talk.” he gave you some space, sitting across the room, “just tell me why you're treating me like shit and I'll leave you, forever even.”

"Eddie, you... you” you tried to explain to him but the words just went away.

“I’m what babe? tell me what I did” his voice was almost failing. 

“You kissed her in front of me" you said through sobs “she said horrible things about me…and you did nothing about it” your tears betrayed you, rolling through your pale face, Eddie could see how big the fleek was on your poor heart.

The muffled sound of the party was the only thing that echoed inside that room, that and the heavy breathing of the man who stared at you, as if he had discovered some absurd secret.

“I went after you, I screamed your name several times through those damn corridors…I know you heard me” you could feel the sad tone behind the guy's bad boy pose.

He moved closer to you, entering your space, his contorted face reflected how painful the memory was. “and I found you, oh boy i found you! In the arms of MY best friend” he returned to the opposite side of the room and continued in silence, lighting his cigarette, the orange light from the lighter flame making Eddie's teary eyes shine in the darkness of the pool room.

“Eddie…what are you talking about?” You said with your voice still shaking, not paying much attention to what was said but to your best friend's sad eyes, “YOU kissed another girl in front of me, after we had sex! you asshole.”

Eddie stood up once again this time angrily shouting back at you “I DIDN’T FUCKING KISS HER”.

His hands caged you against the wall, against his body. He looked straight into your face, with his breathing still labored he whispered “and we didn't have sex”.

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, the tension could be cut with a knife. His eyes traveled between your eyes and your lips, waiting for a minute of weakness, any sign from you so he could have you the way he'd been wanting since the night you ran away from his dorm. 

Your hands shyly touched Eddie's face, bringing the boy's attention to stillness. You held his face firmly and still so unsure “I'm sorry Eds” you said running your fingers over the welts that marked his cheek.

Eddie pressed your bodies closer and held your hand against his cheek, taking advantage of the gap to connect your lips. The kiss started lightly, Eddie enjoyed every crumb you gave him, his tongue explored your mouth hungrily, trying to feel all your flavor, his thin fingers pressed the flesh of your waist, roaming freely over your abdomen, making your legs go limp “Eddie…” you sighed.

"what?" He said, moving his lips down your neck, following the same path that Steve had taken earlier, leaving bigger marks on your skin. He wanted everyone to know that you were his and no one else’s. 

He kissed your shoulder as he ran his hand up your thigh, past the hem of your skirt.

Noticing the lack of response, it's clear that teasing you was the boy's only option. “Did the cat get your tongue, sweetie?” His hands slowly felt your hips at the same time he pushed your legs apart with his knee and forced his leg between yours. He could feel how hot your pussy was from the heat that passed through his thigh “you seemed pretty brave when you were rubbing your ass against Stevie” he pressed his knee against your most sensitive part, gently brushing against your clit.

“I already told you Eddie, Steve and I are just friends” you said again, trying your best not to straddle your best friend’s thigh.

The boy finished taking off your shirt, exploring your breasts as he had done several other times. Eddie pinched and pulled your nipples, making the man feel you wet through your panties. He laughed in a mocking tone “look at you, you barely got off my best friend and you’re already here, all wet for me” his hands forced your movements, making you slowly ride his thigh “I saw your thighs pressing together, you know?” he said, increasing the intensity of the pace at which he guided you.

“Do you like being treated like a slut?” Eddie said taking you off his lap, in one movement he turned you around, face pressed against the old window covered in graffiti, it was too blurry to see you inside but depending on the angle you could see the people outside. “Did you like the feel of Steve’s dick rubbing against your ass?” he said as he pressed his own erection against you, making sure you felt every inch of him against the soft skin of your ass. “I know you liked it baby, there’s no need to be embarrassed” he patronizes you more and more.

With the panties around your ankle, Eddie adjusted your hips the way he wanted, brushing your entire pussy with the pink head of his cock.

"Are you sure?" he asked, without any malice or malice tone, you were already drunk on cock, just nodding your consent. “Words darling, use your words” “please Eddie, I need you” his voice came out more shrill than you wanted, showing his desperation.

In just one thrust, Eddie's entire cock slowly entered your tight pussy, “fuck…so thick” you moaned, not knowing if it was pain or pleasure, receiving sweet prayers from the man who filled you “shh…I know darling, It will soon be so delicious, I promise you” or “good girl, taking it all”, his words made you increasingly wet, making his back and forth movements easier.

“Fuck Eddie, more...I need more, please” you leaned against the window frame, managing to see Steve's confused features through the graffiti window, as he looked for you around the pool, not going unnoticed by Eddie either.

The man pushed into you harder and harder, your hands holding tight on the old wood making it shake. “Hmm… fucking tight, darling” he continued to fuck you, with one hand on your waist holding you in the position he needed and the other tangled in your hair, forcing you to look out the window, to look Steve.

"Eddie please" you begged, he could feel the adrenaline making his voice lower a few tones, every time Steve's eyes passed over you, Eddie could feel your pussy throb and squeeze his dick. “Make me cum Eds, please” you almost cried.

The large hand that held your head against the window ran down your entire body to where you needed it most. He fucked your pussy, changing the angle to hit your sweet spot while slowly massaging your citrices circularly, eliciting from you the most maddening moans Eddie had ever heard... "oh... Eddie I'm going to cum, fuck I'm going to cum " "fuck that pussy, please eddie" "Fill me, I want to feel you filling me Eddie", and Steve.

With his gaze fixed on his best friend, Eddie filled your pussy with his cum, not stopping pumping until the last drop of cum entered you. He helped you straighten up, bringing your back against his covered chest.

He kissed his neck while whispering how hot you were and how you were his and only his, leaving your breasts exposed against the window. His malicious smile began to make you suspicious of the boy's true intentions.

After a few minutes of recovering, you decided to get dressed again. Her panties on one side, her t-shirt rolled up on the floor and her skirt hanging from the window.

Your fingers pulled at the fabric of your skirt, revealing a large hole in the window where Steve stared at you and Eddie, while squeezing his erection through his pants. The boy's pink cheeks didn't bring you clarity, was that shame or lust?

Eddie’s hands went around you in a hug, resting his head on your shoulder “I told you he had a crush on you,” he kissed your cheek before walking away, opening the little door to the pool house “oh! Yeah and I'm sorry, I was really jealous." leaving you high and dry watching him go after his friend.

Taglist ~ dumblittlebunbun pettydonuts kerst666 emma77645 darknesseddiem tlclick73 the-fairy-anon mygirlchaos d4rk4ng3l86 corygshitilike madi-is-kinda-lame munsongirl97 alone-but-never themusingofagothicsoul foreveranexpatsposts anaibis laricebabe she-collects-smut chronicles-of-koystee

[strrynigghts]

unexpected news

— könig x fem!preg!reader

— cw/tw: pregnant reader, accidental baby, potential typos, 3am writing, babies, established early relationship, reader and könig don’t live together, illusion to house!wife reader though she has a job, fluff(?), english to german google translate, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect! lmk if I’ve missed any!

— summary: y/n is pregnant with königs baby, and he finds out

— an: I apologise for my long absence! I’ve been on and off tumblr for a few weeks now. just have been busy and had major writing block unfortunately. I am officially moved into my new home, and my pets are a lot sometimes, especially with two jobs. I’ve been focusing more on life, rather than tumblr, hence another reason why I’ve been gone. this idea came to me when my bf and I talked about how many kids we’d prefer XD enjoy lovies :3

it was honestly an accident. you and könig got a little too into it one night, and the way you wrapped around him oh so tight, ugh. he couldn’t help it, ripping off his condom to stuff his seed deep in you, mumbling, “ich möchte, dass du die mutter meiner kinder bist, maus. bitte lass mich in dir kommen,” in german as he came inside, your eyes rolled back so far into your skull you couldn’t even comprehend what happened until you felt sick a few days later.

you’ve called out of work for the past week, telling your boss you have a bad case of the flu. but the pregnancy test in your hand had said otherwise. you were in fact pregnant, and you couldn’t help but slouch against the door to your bathroom, tears streaming down your face as you started wallowing in what only you could describe as self pity.

könig, ever the gentleman, bright you soups everyday up until he had a mission. but you wouldn’t answer the door, or his calls. you couldn’t face him. he was in the military for gods sake! he couldn’t care for a baby, and honestly, neither could you. your apartment was falling apart at the seams more or less, and you honestly felt terrible.

but it was on the second week, you decided to face könig and his coworkers. after a mission that went horribly wrong, you wanted to invite him and his team over. you made them their favourite foods, and even set up the table while they were on their way over. as königs girl, you honestly didn’t mind cooking for him, or his team. they were like his family, and you made sure your apartment provided them comfort when they couldn’t feel comfortable in their own homes.

when they arrived, könig was the first to greet you. “hello my maus,” he said softly, kissing you on the cheek before stepping further into your home, everyone else following behind him. they all sat and ate, while you messed with the food on your plate, your appetite not so much in the moment. you felt sick, so you excused yourself and dashed for the bathroom, bending over the toilet. “oh my love, are you okay? did the soup not help you? you’re still sick from before I left for the mission?” könig spoke softly, grabbing your hair so it was out of the way.

you kept lurching over the toilet, unaware that königs eyes locked onto the pregnancy test that sat semi hidden under a wad of toilet paper, his breath hitching as he glanced between you and the test.

“you’re pregnant?”

you whined, looking at him with teary eyes and a red face, nodding subtly. “I was going to tell you I swear! just wasn’t sure how you’d react. wanted to tell you when the time was right, könig.” sighing, you stood up, flushing the toilet as you looked at him as he eyed you.

in a flash, he pulled you into his chest, hugging you tightly. “I’m going to be a dad!” he laughed softly, grabbing your hand and pulling you back towards the team, shouting, “she’s pregnant! I’m going to be a dad!” they all smiled and clapped for him and you, saying their congratulations and whatnots.

you weren’t sure how’d this play out, but you were ready to go down this lane and see where it takes you, so long as könig remained by your side, and his team on the other, lending a supporting hand to you both when needed.

© 2024 strrynigghts | please don't copy, translate, or repost any of my works. reblogs and likes are encouraged however.

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