#“If only my pain will stretch that far.”

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔉𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔲𝔫𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔡

Mike Munroe x male reader

Summary: Mike had always liked a challenge, but you were downright impossible. Reckless, sharp-tongued and way too eager to throw yourself into danger. Half the time, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle you or kiss you. But after one stunt too many, he decided he’d had enough. If you weren’t gonna listen to reason, maybe he’d just have to teach you some other way

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. No use of Y/N. Enemies/Friends to lovers. Love confession. Lots of remarks. Make out session. Lots of dirty talk. Brat tamer Mike Munroe. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Dom Mike Munroe. Bottom male reader. Hate sex. Anal sex.

Words count: 5000 words

The sanatorium smelled of rot and blood, the air so thick with decay it felt like it could clog your throat. Every step echoed in the hollow corridors.

Mike Munroe had always thought he'd seen the worst of it with the mines and those wendigos clawing at the edges of his sanity but nothing compared to the sheer insanity of trying to keep you alive.

He knew you were reckless, borderline suicidal in your determination to protect him, and it pissed him off to no end, brown eyes fixed on you with a burning kind of anger that only came from sheer terror.

Mike stayed on your heels, his shotgun cradled in white-knuckled hands while you pushed forward even as caged wendigos rattled their bars and clawed at the air mere inches from your skin. That same reckless confidence Mike had come to admire and despise in equal measure.

"Jesus Christ, slow the fuck down," Mike hissed, his voice low but sharp. "You think those things can't get to you if you're strutting like that?"

"Relax," you shot back without turning to look at him, your voice dripping with that trademark sarcasm he'd grown to loathe in moments like this. "They're behind bars."

"Don't fucking tempt fate," he snapped, his teeth grinding. He hated how casually you brushed off danger. It was the kind of arrogance that made his blood boil and his stomach churn with worry all at once.

As if on cue, a skeletal arm shot through the bars to your right, claws slicing through the air with terrifying speed. You flinched, sidestepping the swipe with a quick motion.

Another wendigo near the end of the row lunged, its claws stretching impossibly far through the bars. Mike moved before you could react, slamming you against the opposite wall with one hand as the shotgun exploded in the other. The blast silenced the wendigo's screech, its emaciated body crumpling behind the cage.

"Stay the fuck behind me," he barked, his voice cutting through the ringing in your ears. His face was inches from yours, streaked with dirt and sweat, his eyes wild.

"Just once, could you do what I say without arguing?"

"You should try trusting me sometime and let me help you out." There was a sharp gleam in your eyes as you grinned despite the adrenaline tearing through your veins.

"Help?" He laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the dark. "The only thing you've helped with is shaving years off my lifespan."

"Aw, you care." Your grin was maddening, a cocky tilt to your head that sent a jolt of something sharp and hot through his chest.

Mike let out a frustrated growl, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscles working beneath his skin.

Another wendigo lunged, this one on his blind side. Time seemed to slow as its claws arced toward his neck, the jagged edges glinting in the dim light.

Without thinking, you moved.

Your body slammed into his, shoving him out of the way as you raised your arm to block the swipe. Pain exploded across your forearm as the claws raked deep, hot blood spilling down your sleeve. Mike spun around, his voice a roar of panic before the shotgun fired again, the recoil jolting his entire body as the wendigo flew back into the cage with a sickening crunch. He caught you before you could hit the floor, his hands gripping your shoulders as his eyes scanned the deep gashes marring your arm.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he yelled, his voice shaking with equal parts fury and fear.

You winced, blood seeping from the fresh gash in your side but the corner of your mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “Saving your life. It worked, didn't it?"

"Saved my—" His voice broke off as his fingers tightened on your arms, his knuckles white. "You're bleeding all over the goddamn place!”

The wendigos in the cages shrieked louder, their skeletal bodies throwing themselves against the bars, the metal groaning under the weight of their emancipated bodies. Mike hauled you to your feet, his grip firm as he dragged you toward the end of the hall.

The door loomed ahead, heavy and rusted, the handle worn smooth by time. You threw your weight against it, your injured arm screaming in protest as Mike fired another shot behind you.

The door groaned and gave away with a metallic screech and you stumbled inside, turning just in time to see Mike fire point-blank into a wendigo lunging at him. You grabbed a rusted metal barrel and hurled it into the hall, the clang echoing ominously as it rolled toward the wendigos.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Mike yelled, his voice raw. He blasted the wendigo mid-lunge, the creature's body crumpling far away.

"Stop yelling at me and shoot it already!" you snapped back, your voice sharp and biting.

Mike's fury boiled over, his hands shaking as he leveled the shotgun at the barrel and fired. The explosion lit up the hallway, the shockwave knocking you both backward as flames roared through the air.

He grabbed you, pulling you against him as debris rained down, his body shielding yours from the worst of it. The door slammed shut behind you with a metallic clang.

Smoke was still thick in the air as you tore a piece of the blood-soaked fabric from your shirt, grimacing as you tied it around the gash on your arm. It wasn't clean, but it was tight, and that was good enough. You let out a hiss as you cinched the knot, the pain sharp but grounding.

Mike didn't wait, by the time you were done self-patching yourself, he was already halfway to the stairs, shoulders rigid as his boots pounded against the cracked stone.

He hadn't said a word or even looked at you yet.

And that bothered you.

Jogging after him, you couldn't help yourself, words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even think.

“You’ve got a weird way of showing gratitude. Most people would say, ‘Hey, thanks for saving me from getting my throat slit.’ But nah, you just throw me around like a ragdoll and storm off. Nice touch. Real alpha male energy.”

He didn't stop. He didn't even turn his head. But you caught the slight twitch of his jaw and the way his grip on the shotgun tightened. He exhaled sharply through his nose and started up the stairs without answering.

You fell into step behind him, your boots scuffing against the stone as you kept talking.

"I see," you said, following close behind. "The silent treatment. Classic. Very mature, Mike."

Still nothing. His boots struck the stone harder now, each step louder than the last. You weren't sure if he was trying to drown you out or if he just couldn't control his frustration anymore.

"I thought we were bonding," you added, your voice dripping with mock disappointment as you kept poking the bear. "You know, saving each other's asses, fighting off horrifying monsters, sharing life-and-death moments. I guess I misread the vibe."

His hand flexed on the shotgun, his knuckles pale, fingers twitching like he was imagining gripping something else entirely.

"You’re mad because I stole your big heroic moment? Is that it? Did I hurt your fragile ego, Munroe? Did I make you feel—"

"Shut the fuck up."

The words hit you like a freight train, his voice booming in the confined space of the stairwell and so heavy with barely-contained anger that it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

The stairs creaked underfoot with each step. The weight of his silence grated against your nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

"Great," you muttered under your breath, stepping into a small, dimly lit room of the hall.

The room was as lifeless as the rest of the sanatorium, its walls cracked and stained with years of neglect. A battered table sat in the corner, its surface cloaked in a thick layer of dust. On top of it, a chessboard lay abandoned, its pieces scattered and forgotten.

Drawn by a flicker of curiosity, you approached the table, running a finger over the dusty edge. The chessboard was frozen mid-game, the moves etched into time like a fossilized memory. You reached for a lone figure, its surface cool and smooth beneath your fingertips. A simple figure of a man that had nothing to do with chess.

You turned it over in your hand, your mind wandering as you considered the lives that had once filled this place before the experiments and the monstrous transformations.

Deliberate and slow footsteps broke through your thoughts. You glanced toward the doorway, catching sight of Mike as he stepped into the room. He didn't speak, didn't meet your eyes. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, shotgun dangling loosely in one hand.

You turned back to the figure, rolling it between your fingers. His childish suiking had stretched thin your patience. If he wanted to sulk, fine. You weren't about to beg for his attention. Two could play at the silent game.

You set the chess piece back down, brushing the dust from your fingers, and let out a quiet huff.

Hell of a place to get all broody.

The sudden, jarring clang of his shotgun landing on the corner of the table startled you, and you barely had time to turn before his hands were on you.

Strong, calloused fingers gripped your arms with bruising force and yanked you forward, forcing you against the edge of the table. Your palms slapped the surface, the chess piece clattering away as Mike's grip held you firmly in place. His chest pressed against your back and you could feel his hot, sharp, and furious breath tickling the shell of your ear.

"Mike, what the fuck?" you spat, twisting against his hold, but he didn't budge.

"What the fuck am I doing?" His voice was low, dangerous, trembling with barely contained fury. "No, the real question is what the fuck you think you're doing. Do you have any idea how done I am with your shit?"

You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sound of his voice. "Oh, I don't know," you shot back, your tone sharp despite the position you were in. "Maybe you could enlighten me, since you've been sulking like a toddler for the past ten minutes."

Mike chuckled darkly, the sound devoid of humor. "Still got that smart mouth, huh? Not surprising. You never know when to shut the fuck up."

You bristled at his tone, turning your head just enough to glare at him over your shoulder. "And you never know when to quit being an asshole. Guess we're even."

His grip tightened, fingers digging into your arms just enough to make you wince.

"No, we're not even," he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "Not by a long shot. You've been pushing me all night, running your mouth and throwing yourself into danger like you've got a death wish. I've had enough."

"Yeah?" you snapped, your voice rising in defiance. "Maybe if you stopped treating me like I'm some helpless fucking kid, I wouldn't have to keep proving I can handle myself."

His laugh was sharp and bitter, and you could feel the tension in his body as he pressed you harder against the table. "You call that handling yourself? That's being a reckless, selfish little shit."

"Selfish?" You twisted in his grip, ignoring the ache in your arms. "I was trying to save you, you ungrateful asshole! Or did you forget about the fucking wendigo that was about to rip your head off?"

"Yeah, and you nearly got yourself killed in the process!" he shot back, his voice cracking with the force of his anger. "Do you have any idea what that felt like? Watching you throw yourself in front of that thing, knowing I couldn't stop you? Knowing that if you got yourself killed, it'd be on me?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you didn't know what to say.

You refused to let his words or presence get under your skin. He wasn’t going to win. Not like this.

"So that's what this is about?" you said, your voice laced with defiance. "You can't handle the fact that someone might actually give a shit about you?"

Mike's breath hitched and for a split second, you thought you'd gotten to him. But then he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"No," he said, his lips brushed against your ear, breath hot and heavy. "This is about you learning your fucking place. Right here," he murmured, his voice dark and commanding. "Under me. Doing what I say. Got it?"

The weight of Mike's chest pressed down on your back, his breath hot against the nape of your neck.

And then you felt it.

Thick, hard, and unmistakable, his bulge strained against the denim of his jeans, pressing firmly against your ass as he leaned in further.

Heat rushed through you, blood pumping straight to your dick, shame and arousal twisting into one unbearable, molten thing in your gut, your traitorous body reacting before your brain could catch up.

Mike let out a low, guttural grunt, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight into your spine. "Where's all that attitude now? One little touch and you go quiet on me? Didn't think it'd take this little to shut you up." he muttered, his voice dropping to a rough, husky whisper.

You hissed through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the heat pooling low in your belly as the warmth of his words washed over you. "Fuck you," you spat, your voice cracking slightly as you twisted beneath him.

His laugh came again, rougher this time, edged with something darker. "Fuck me?" he repeated mockingly, pressing his hips forward to grind his bulge against you, the friction sending a jolt through your body. "That's not how this is gonna work, sweetheart. I'm the one calling the shots here."

He yanked you forward and slammed your face flush against the cold table, bending you down perfectly for him. One strong hand threading roughly through your hair, keeping your head pressed down while his other hand splayed firmly against the small of your back, holding you in place. Your legs were spread wide, his own body pressed hard against you, pinning you down with no room to squirm.

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But your silence only seemed to spur him on.

"Look at you,” he growled, voice dropping to a taunting whisper as he leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "All pinned down and squirming under me. Not so tough now, are you?"

"Fuck off," you managed, though the words came out weaker than you intended.

"You always have to fight, don't you? Ain't moving 'til I say so.”

Heat curled through you. Fucking traitorous heat, searing low in your gut, burning through your veins.

"You drive me insane, you know that?" His voice was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every word. "Always have. Right from the start."

Your jaw clenched. "Too bad I can't say the same—"

"Oh, bullshit. You think I don't see the way you look at me?" His voice was taunting now, fingers curling tighter around your wrists, his hips grinding forward to make you fucking feel him. "Always running your mouth, always pushing me, but I see the way your eyes linger when you think I'm not looking. Fuck if it didn't make me want you even more."

You sucked in a sharp breath. Your heart was pounding now from excitement as he yanked your pants down, breath coming in short, uneven gasps as he exposed you completely to him and you gave no struggle or resistance.

"Don't lie to me," he growled, his tone dangerous as he leaned in even closer, the firm press of his cock unmistakable through the rough fabric of his jeans. "I can feel how you’re getting hard while I've got you pinned to a fucking table. You've been dying for this, haven't you? I bet you love seeing me all worked up, ready to lose my goddamn mind over you."

His body pressed closer, his lips brushed just against your skin. "You never fucking stop. Never back down. Always have to prove you're the toughest son of a bitch in the room and I fucking love that about you."

You shivered beneath him, your resolve wavering as his hand slid lower, squeezing your ass.

A sharp slap landed across your ass, the sting of it sending a bolt of heat straight through you. You jerked against the table, your breath coming out ragged, but Mike just chuckled, dragging his hand back up to squeeze the reddening skin.

You bit your lip hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Every time you talked back to me and got in my face like you had something to prove, I wanted to shove you down on your knees and see just how mouthy you'd be with my dick filling that bratty little mouth of yours."

Your breath caught, fingers tightening against the table. "You talk a big game," you ground out, jaw tight despite the heat pulsing through you, "but I don't see you doing shit."

Mike's grip on your hair tightened, yanking your head back just enough to force a gasp from your lips.

"You wanna test me, sweetheart?" His voice was low and dangerous, burning with something feral. "You really wanna see what happens when you push me too far?"

You bit back a gasp, biting your lower lip so hard it nearly split, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of your surrender.

"You can grit your teeth and keep that stubborn mouth shut, but your body's already telling me everything I need to know." His voice was a gravelly purr, rich with mockery as his lips skimmed the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

You shivered involuntarily as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh of your throat, sharp enough to threaten but not to pierce.

Whatever snotty remark you have been about to spew vanished as he spits into his hand, the slick sound loud in the stillness of the room, followed by the warm, wet press of his fingers against your entrance. He didn't rush, didn't ease up; he worked his first finger in with a slow, steady pressure, curling it just enough to make you shudder.

"Shit," you hissed, your hands clawing at the edge of the table as he added a second finger, scissoring his fingers with a ruthless precision. Each twist and deliberate press of his fingers sent jolts of white-hot pleasure up your spine, your breath coming faster as you struggled to hold onto the last threads of your resistance.

"You feel that? That's what happens when you stop running your mouth and start letting me take care of things." Mike murmured, his voice a rough, husky growl as he watched you squirm.

"You're... such a cocky bastard," you bit out, though the breathlessness in your voice betrayed you.

"And you fucking love it," he shot back, his fingers curling and dragging a moan from your throat that you couldn't quite suppress. His smirk widened, his lips brushing against the back of your neck as he added a third finger, stretching you further. "There it is. Knew I'd get you to make those pretty sounds for me."

You gasped, your back arching involuntarily as he pressed deeper, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. "Fuck—Mike—"

"Say it," he growled, his hand sliding up to grip the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place as his fingers continued their relentless assault. "Say you need me. Say you want me to wreck you."

"Fuck you," you spat, though the tremor in your voice robbed the words of their intended bite.

He chuckled smugly, withdrawing his fingers abruptly, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness. Mike's breath was a ragged growl against your shoulder, his weight pinning you flush against the weathered table as his hands worked deftly to undo his belt.

The sound of his zipper being undone was the only warning you got before you felt the thick, blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance, circling it teasingly.

"Beg for it," he demanded, his voice low and commanding, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. "Beg me to fuck you."

"Do it," you growled, the desperation in your voice making him chuckle as he kept l the head of his cock pressed against your entrance.

"Not until you say it," he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against your neck. "Tell me what you want."

Your breath hitched, your fingers digging into the table as he pressed forward just enough to make you gasp. "Fuck, Mike—just fuck me already."

"That's more like it," he said, his voice a rough growl as he thrust into you in one smooth motion, the head of his cock breaching you until he buried himself to the hilt. The stretch was overwhelming, a sharp, burning heat that stole the breath from your lungs, but the groan that tore from his throat was pure satisfaction.

"Jesus," he muttered, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he held you there, unmoving, his cock pulsing deep inside you.

You couldn't muster a response. Not when he started to move, his hips snapping against you in a slow, punishing rhythm that left you gasping for air. His grip on your hips was bruising as he set the pace, each thrust sending a fresh wave of pleasure and pain crashing through you.

Mike wasn't one to let you off easy, his hand sliding around to grip your throat, pulling you upright as he drove into you harder, deeper.

"Admit you've been begging for this. Admit you fucking love it." He demanded, his voice a rough growl against your ear.

"Mike," you gasped, your head falling back against his shoulder as he tightened his grip, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "Fuck, I—“

He growled, his teeth sinking into the curve of your neck as his hand slid lower, wrapping around your cock and stroking you in time with his thrusts.

His rhythm growing erratic as he chased his release.

You were trembling, the peak of pleasure hanging just out of reach, so close it burned, and yet he had stopped abruptly.

The noise you made was involuntary, a ragged, guttural sound of frustration ripped from deep within you. It echoed off the room's peeling walls, cutting through the heavy air as Mike's hand stilled against your cock, robbing you of the release you were so desperately chasing. Your sweat-slicked body trembled with need as he brushed his fingers lazily over your cock, deliberately avoiding giving you anything substantial.

He fucking loved it.

He stood behind you, chest heaving, his cock still buried deep inside you as he tilted his head to watch you squirm. The smirk that spread across his face was infuriating, brimming with that maddening mix of smugness and satisfaction that only he could pull off. "Something wrong, sweetheart?" he drawled, his tone dripping with mock concern as he leaned over you, his breath brushing hot against your ear.

You didn't answer, didn't trust yourself to speak without giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead, you clenched your fists against the table, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as you fought to suppress the whimper building in your throat.

He pulled out slowly, the drag of his cock enough to make your breath hitch. And then, he flipped you over. His hands snaked down, strong fingers sliding beneath your legs as he hoisted you up with ease. You barely had time to brace yourself before he slammed you back down onto the table, the impact making your body jolt.

The move left your legs spread wide, his hips slotting perfectly between them as he leaned down, his body pressing against yours. The heat of his cock dragged against yours as he shifted closer until there was no space left between you.

His gaze raked over your face. Flushed cheeks, parted lips, those sharp, defiant eyes still burning with the need to fight him. Christ, you were fucking perfect like this, all wrecked and ruined because of him.

"You look good like this," he murmured, his voice thick with amusement as his lips hovered just over yours, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath. His fingers tightened their grip on your jaw, tilting your face up to his. "All this, just from me." His smirk widened. "And you still wanna act like you don't love it."

You opened your mouth to snap something back but before you could, Mike surged forward, his lips crashing against yours. The kiss was filthy, all tongue and teeth, his body pressing down against yours as he devoured you. His tongue pushed into your mouth, sweeping into your mouth with an eagerness that bordered on frantic while tilting our head to deepen the kiss even further.

He tasted like salt and sweat. Every time you tried to catch your breath, to regain some semblance of control, he pushed harder, pulling another whimper or gasp from your throat.

His cock pressed against yours, hot and slick with the mess of earlier, the friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through you. He moved his hips deliberately, grinding against you as his tongue slid against yours.

You couldn't stop the moan that slipped from your lips, muffled against his mouth and the sound made him groan, low and guttural, his fingers tightening against your skin.

His palms dragged over broad shoulders and down your torso, memorizing every inch of you as he kissed you, his touch firm and possessive.

The heat between you was unbearable now, a steady, relentless build that left you trembling against him. Mike pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and burning as they raked over your face. Your lips were swollen and shiny, your cheeks flushed, your chest rising and falling with every ragged breath.

His hips rolled forward, dragging his cock against yours, the friction making you gasp. He swallowed the sound with another kiss, his hands gripping your thighs, lifting them just enough to shift you higher on the table and wrap them around his waist. He lined himself up almost immediately and sank back inside in one smooth thrust.

You choked on a moan, your back arching off the table as he bottomed out.

"Fuck, that's good," Mike groaned, his forehead dropping against yours for a second, his breath hot and uneven. "Goddamn, you feel—" He cut himself off with a sharp thrust, making you cry out, your nails digging into his back. "Yeah, that's what I wanna hear.”

He started moving again, dragging out every inch before stamming back in, making sure you felt every bit of him. His hands gripped your hips, forcing you to take it, to feel just how deep he was inside you.

His pace was brutal, each thrust sending you sliding up the table, the wood groaning under the force of it. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you open as he fucked into you without mercy. The pleasure was overwhelming, hot and unbearable, coiling low in your stomach, threatening to snap at any second.

"You're mine," he growled, his teeth scraping against your jaw as he drove into you harder. "Say it."

You clenched your jaw, refusing.

Mike clicked his tongue, his hand sliding up to wrap around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. His other hand wrapped around your cock, stroking you in time with his thrusts, dragging you closer, closer, until you were right there, teetering on the edge just like minutes ago.

"Say it," he ordered again, his grip tightening, his pace relentless. "Tell me you're mine, or I swear to God, I'll stop right fucking now."

The threat sent a fresh wave of desperation through you, and you hated him for how easily he could break you down, how much you needed him to just keep fucking moving.

"I'm yours," you finally rasped, the words torn from your throat, raw and wrecked. "You fucking own me! Just don't fucking stop."

The words shattered something inside him. He groaned, deep and guttural, his hips snapping against yours in an erratic, desperate rhythm as he buried himself deep.

With a strangled cry, you came undone, your body trembling as you spilled over his hand. Mike groaned, his pace faltering as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came with a guttural moan, his lips crashing against yours in a messy, desperate kiss.

For a moment, the world seemed to still, the only sound in the room, the ragged panting of your breaths as Mike held you close, his forehead resting against yours. And then, with a soft, breathless laugh, he leaned back just enough to look at you, his smirk returning in full force as he brushed a thumb over your flushed cheek.

The scent of sweat and spent adrenaline thick between you. Mike was still inside you, pressed close with his breath ghosting over your lips in shallow, uneven pants. His hand lingered on your cheek, thumb tracing absent patterns over the flushed skin.

Your body ached, the kind of deep, satisfied soreness that came from being well and thoroughly wrecked. Your fingers twitched against his shoulder, nails grazing over the thin sheen of sweat on his skin.

You let out a shaky breath, your pulse pounding in your ears. "Jesus, Mike..." Your voice was hoarse, wrecked, and your lips throbbed from how hard he'd kissed you.

Mike huffed out a breathless laugh, his forehead dropping against your shoulder. "Yeah," he muttered. "Jesus."

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, filled only by the slowing rhythm of your breaths. Neither of you moved to untangle from the other, and you weren't sure if it was because of the exhaustion sinking into your bones or something else neither of you wanted to admit out loud.

Mike was the first to shift, his hands sliding down to your thighs before gripping the underside of your knees, pushing them wider as he slowly pulled out of you. A sharp gasp ripped from your throat at the overstimulation, your body protesting even as you shivered at the loss of him.

He stood there between your legs, his hands smoothing up your trembling thighs, fingers ghosting over bruises and marks he'd left.

A thick silence stretched between you before he finally lifted his gaze, his jaw tightening. "You good?"

You scoffed, though your voice was weak. "You asking 'cause you care, or 'cause you're wondering if I'm up for round two?"

Mike's smirk was slow, dangerous, his fingers flexed on your thighs, digging in just enough to make you squirm. "You're already that desperate for more?" His voice was husky, dripping with mockery, but the way his pupils dilated told you he wasn't opposed to the idea.

You grinned, reckless as ever, despite the exhaustion in your limbs. "Depends. You think you can keep up? I think I can still feel your pulse in my ass, Munroe."

Mike's smirk widened, but instead of answering, he surged forward, crashing his lips against yours with a force that nearly sent you sprawling back onto the table as he tilted your head back and took control, his tongue pushing past your lips with a filthy, hungry growl.

He licked deep, savoring the heat of you, the lingering taste of salt and adrenaline. The kiss was all messy and wet, his teeth scraping against your lower lip before sucking it into his mouth, nipping just hard enough to make you groan.

Your body was weak, barely able to keep up, and he knew it. He could feel the way your limbs trembled and fuck, he reveled in it.

His hand slid down to your ass, squeezing hard as he pulled you flush against him again, your spent body molding into his as he took everything he wanted.

His lips left yours only to trail down your throat again, his breath hot and heavy as he dragged his teeth along your skin, scraping over your pulse point before sucking a deep, bruising mark onto your skin.

Your head was spinning, your body burning, and all you could do was whimper as he pulled back just enough to let you breathe, his thumb swiping over your swollen bottom lip.

You exhaled heavily, trying to gather whatever strength you had left. But when you went to slide off the table, your legs nearly gave out beneath you, and Mike fucking laughed.

"Can't even stand up straight, huh?" He crossed his arms, watching you with pure, infuriating amusement as you clutched the table for support.

You shot him a glare, but your legs were shaking, your body still wrecked from earlier. "I can walk."

Mike cocked a brow, that shit-eating smirk still plastered on his face. "You sure? 'Cause it looks like I might have fucked you so good you forgot how."

"Shut the hell up.”

He chuckled, stepping forward to grab your arm.

As you limped beside him, Mike leaned in close, voice a low murmur against your ear. "Bet you'll be feelin' that for a while."

You clenched your jaw. "Don't flatter yourself."

Mike just laughed again, shaking his head. "Too late, sweetheart."

And as you made your way back into the darkened halls of the sanatorium, you knew one thing for sure.

You weren't getting rid of him anytime soon.

[nimbusclan]

Moon 5 Part 2

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Moonstar gasps awake, sitting up so fast she rams her head into the thick underside of a low-hanging branch that she and her brother had spent the night taking turns sleeping under. They’ve been doing that, taking turns – who knows what things are lurking out here in the dark, so far from home.

If they can't go back, does it still count as home? 

“Ow…” Moonstar groans, a sharp throb pounding against her skull. What a way to start the morning.

Fogfreckle ducks his head underneath one of the branches, sweeping past the leaves to gaze curiously at his sister. He tilts his head questioningly, mouth open to ask what’s wrong, when the words die on his tongue and his eyes widen.

“Fogfreckle!” Moonstar mews excitedly, leaping to her paws. “You’ll never guess what happened!”

“Your– your forehead,” Fogfreckle croaks. “You… were visited by StarClan?”

“What about my forehead?” Moonstar asks, confused and distracted. She presses a paw against her head to see if perhaps she’s bleeding, but her paw doesn’t come away warm or wet. The rest of her brother’s words filter to her slowly through the dull throb of pain and the fog of the early hour. She pouts. “Yeah, Star– how did you guess so quick?”

“There’s– your forehead. You have a star. A leader’s star.”

Moonstar’s pout deepens. “Well. That kind of steals my thunder.”

“Moonpool, what happened?”

“Moonstar now, actually.” Moonstar grins. “StarClan visited me in my dreams and granted me my nine lives. Isn’t that crazy? I didn’t even have to– there was no–” Moonstar’s tongue can hardly keep up with everything that’s swirling in her brain, the experience of her leader’s ceremony playing back to her as if memory and not just dream. “NimbusClan lives on, Fogfreckle. In us, just like you said. We’re to lead NimbusClan into its new future.”

“‘We’?” Fogfreckle asks weakly, jaw slack with disbelief.

“Of course, ‘we’!” Moonstar laughs, bounding closer to her brother. She feels so full of life, coursing through her like the widest, wildest river. “I wouldn’t be here if not for you, you know that. Besides, what’s a leader without her deputy?”

“Deputy?” Fogfreckle repeats, dumbstruck.

“What are you, a raven?” Moonstar laughs. “Yes, deputy! As leader, I’m appointing you as deputy of NimbusClan, Fogfreckle.”

Fogfreckle swells with pride, pale chest fluffed out as he inhales a shaky breath. “I– yes, Moonstar. Thank you.”

“Don’t get all formal on me, now. You’re my brother first, deputy second.”

“So, we really are still a Clan.” He grins, then the expression fades from his face somewhat. His eyes take on an earnest shine. “Did you… I know you’re not supposed to talk about the ceremony, but… when you visited StarClan, did you… did you see our parents?”

Moonstar smiles gently, heart squeezing painfully in her chest. Dad had told her to tell Fogfreckle that their parents miss him, too, so surely StarClan won’t be displeased if she shares just that much? “Yes. I saw them. Mom and Dad. They told me to tell you they miss you.”

Fogfreckle hiccups, stepping close to push his head hard against Moonstar’s.

“I wish you could have seen them too,” She adds in a whisper, nuzzling into his dawn-warmed fur. The sun is just starting to crest the side of the mountain on its way up, crawling lazily into the sky. Greenleaf heat creeps on silent, soft paws across her pelt. It’ll be humid later, but for now, it’s pleasant.

“Maybe they’ll walk in my dreams one day, too.”

“I hope so.” Moonstar presses one more smile into his fur and then pulls back, squaring her shoulders in what she hopes is a leaderly fashion. It’s only her brother, but she may as well start getting used to playing the role. “Alright, deputy. What’s our first order of business?”

Fogfreckle grins. “How about breakfast? I could go for some eggs.”

“Perfect idea.”

Both cats stretch out their paws and take off, bounding up the mountain.

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

[cozmowrites]

Hidden Among the Shadows

arranged marriage au

====

The faint hum of the heater filled the spacious living room of the apartment. It was modern but lacked warmth, much like its current occupants. Bakugou Katsuki sat at the far end of the couch, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the wall as though it had personally offended him.

You sat across from him, perched on the edge of an armchair, hands folded neatly in your lap. The silence between you stretched thin, so taut it felt like it might snap at any moment.

Your eyes darted to the steaming cup of tea on the coffee table. You'd made it for him as soon as you arrived, desperate to do something to ease the tension. But he hadn't touched it.

"I..." You started, voice soft and barely above a whisper. You felt your cheeks heat up as his crimson eyes flicked toward you, sharp and unyielding. "I'm sorry if the tea isn't to your liking."

Bakugou's eyebrow twitched. "What the hell are you apologizing for?"

You flinched slightly at his tone, your fingers clutching the fabric of your skirt. "I— I just... thought—"

"Stop," he cut you off, leaning forward with a sigh of frustration. "You didn't do anything wrong, so quit saying sorry for every little thing. It's annoying."

Your gaze dropped to your lap, and you nodded quickly. "S-sorry..."

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "This is gonna be a pain in the ass."

You bit the inside of your cheek, the words stinging even though you had expected them. You knew Bakugou wasn't thrilled about this arrangement—neither were you, if you were honest with yourself. But this was the hand you'd been dealt.

Your families had decided this was for the best. A strategic alliance, they called it. Your quirk, Umbra Manipulation, allowed you to control and solidify shadows, an ability that paired well with Bakugou's explosive quirk. Together, they said, you'd have powerful children. You thought quirk marriages were old fashion, but your parents didn't care.

Not that you had any desire to become a hero. You weren't like Bakugou—confident, brash, and full of fire. You preferred the quiet, the background, where you could avoid conflict and simply exist.

But that wasn't an option anymore.

"Hey." His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to find him staring at you, a scowl etched into his face. "You always this quiet?"

You hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or if the question was rhetorical. When his eyes narrowed, you quickly nodded. "Y-yes."

"Tch. Great," he muttered, leaning back against the couch. "This is gonna be real fun."

You shifted uncomfortably, the urge to apologize bubbling up again, but you bit it back. Instead, you tried to focus on the room around you. The apartment was clearly his, with minimal decorations and a stark, utilitarian design. Simple, modern. The only personal touch was a shelf lined with All Might memorabilia that you'd think would be kept in his room.

"You don't like talking much, huh?" Bakugou asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You shook your head, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. "Not really..."

"Figures." He crossed his arms, his gaze scrutinizing you. "You better speak up when it matters, though. I'm not dragging dead weight around if we're working together."

The implication made your stomach twist. "I'll... try my best."

"Try?" His voice rose, and you flinched. "There's no try when it comes to this kind of shit. You either pull your weight, or you're useless."

His words hit like a punch to the gut, but you nodded meekly. "I... I understand."

He clicked his tongue in irritation, running a hand through his spiky blonde hair. "Whatever. Just don't get in my way."

The conversation lapsed into silence again, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. The weight of his presence was suffocating, like a storm cloud ready to burst at any moment.

"I... I can cook dinner," you offered hesitantly, desperate to fill the void. "If you'd like..."

He glanced at you, skepticism written all over his face. "You can cook?"

You nodded quickly. "Y-yes. I... I've been told I'm pretty good at it."

He huffed, leaning back against the couch. "Fine. Knock yourself out."

Relieved to have a task, you stood and made your way to the kitchen. It was as sleek and modern as the rest of the apartment, with shiny appliances that looked like they'd barely been used. You began gathering ingredients, thankful for something to focus on other than Bakugou's piercing gaze.

As you worked, you felt his eyes on you, though he said nothing. You tried to ignore the pressure, concentrating on chopping vegetables and stirring the pot. The rhythmic motion was calming, a small refuge in the storm.

"Smells decent," he commented after a while, his tone begrudging.

Your lips twitched. You weren't sure how to feel so you just nodded. "Thank you..."

When dinner was ready, you set the table and placed the dishes down carefully. Bakugou joined you, eyeing the food with suspicion before taking a bite.

He didn't say anything, but the fact that he kept eating was enough to ease some of your nerves.

"This is good," he admitted gruffly, barely looking at you.

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. "R-really?"

"Don't make a big deal out of it," he snapped, but his tone lacked its usual bite.

You nodded quickly. For the first time that day, the tension in the room seemed to ease, just a fraction.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

(Edit: A continuation of this IS a fic.)

(Link to the Wattpad of this fic: https://www.wattpad.com/story/386015240?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=lotusdotpng )

(Link to the AO3 of this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62753884/chapters/160653781 )

[kuromipuzzles2000]

"so, in what universe are we, Trivia?"

"i-i...i don't know, for me even is new, it looks so normal. . ."

"just hope we're not on the canon universe. . ."

". . .if we keep investigating we'll not have time to meet the Mario of this universe and the rest of the cast. . ."

Strawberry sighs as he just looked at his best friend as gave a smug smile

"i know. . .Trivia, hey, what if you go for and meet Mario and I'll find the rest of the crew? it will make you happy?"

Trivia gasps as his eyes shine and smiled genuinely

"y-you're for real Strawberry?"

"yeah, after all, i know you root for know him and try to be a friend of any Mario, go now, we'll meet later, ok?"

"y-yes! see you later bro! thanks you so much again!"

"see ya, Trivia, be careful, ok?"

"i'll be!"

Trivia walked off to try find Mario, as Strawberry stayed on the place for a bit, he'll then start walking, he knows maybe he'll found the rest of the SMG4 Crew of that universe on the showgrounds, so he'll go there. . .as Strawberry approached the showgrounds, he could notice SMG4 standing by the door of his castle, immobile, maybe he was staring at some random stuff? who knows. . .the neko Mario recolor stepped in to try to talk to SMG4

"hello? SMG4? my name is Strawberry and-"

. . .

but no response. . .Strawberry would walk closer, to see better the SMG4 before his eyes, as he approached him, he could notice SMG4 with a tanuki tail and tanuki ears, and strange red rings over his wrists and ankles. . .too his clothes with more pale colors. . .instead of his bright blue and white colors

". . .S-SMG4? is. . .is that you? well now i am pretty sure you're not the canon one, but. . .but. . .you look. . .look pretty. . .i-i no want offense, but. . .look pretty. . .in bad state, i-i am a medic, i-i can help if you wa-"

"no thanks. . .i am perfectly fine~"

"G-Guh? S-SMG4!? y-you're far from. . .from be ok! i-i can help i-"

God Box SMG4 turned around fully and quickly approached Strawberry, grabbing him by the shoulders

"it was a long time since i saw a Mario Recolor. . .since our little incident with 0 on my channel's 10th anniversary. . .i thought they all died or. . .got reworked"

"i-i. . .ummm, i am from. . .from other universe, 4. . .w-we too lived the 0 incident, but i and my family got to survive and we was like the only Recolors who didn't got redesign on my Universe"

"interesting. . ."

SMG4 lifted Strawberry grabbing him by the throat, strangling him a bit, Strawberry gasps as he try to fight back for get free from SMG4's grasp, kicking his legs, hitting his arms. . .nothing worked, no success. . .

"i wonder how would it feel to be a Mario recolor again since. . .that fatidic day and my design was forcefully changed that day~"

"S-SMG4...P-P-Please. . .t-this. . .this not. . .not you gah! l-let. . .l-let me go!! let me goo!!"

No response, as soon as Strawberry knew, everything went dark around him. . .

. . .

and then a sudden pain, where he felt his body stretch a bit more, his bones cracking, and felt like if his cat ears and tail was ripped off and feel tanuki ears and tail on grow on it's place, blood came out of where his ears was and was replaced by the new tanuki ears, too from his tail, and felt how his leg and arm felt like burning

"i-i. . .i am sorry, Trivia, Noelle, Berdly, SMGS. . .i-i. . .i won't be there for you 4 anymore. . .more for you Trivia. . .i. . .i failed you. . .i am sorry"

was the last words he could say on his head, as he didn't even had control of himself. . .he isn't dead, but felt like on a deep sleep. . .a big heavy deep sleep. . .for eternity

"ahhh. . .it feels so good!~ i could get so used to this new body, i can use it for remember the old times when i feel nostalgic about my old body!"

SMG4 said with a mix of Strawberry's voice and his, SMG3 who arrived shortly stared at his partner as put his hands on his hips

"you lucky bastard, if i was here sooner. . .I WOULD had the chance of be the one reviving the nostalgia!"

"too slow, snail"

SMG4 stick his tongue at SMG3 which he grunts and crossed his arms. . .they suddenly heard someone come and calling by Strawberry

"Strawberry? you're here? we need. . .need to go!"

. . .SMG4 and SMG3 looked at the direction the voice came from, then looked at each other and smirked

"you thinking the same as me, 3?"

"yeah!"

"let's have fun with this poor soul's friend~"

they both whispered at each other and then SMG3 hided on the bushes, he's ready to see the fun that awaits ahead

"t-the Mario of this universe looks. . .looks kinda weird. . .i-i. . .i no want keep here if we entered an apparently creepypasta au or something. . .u-uhh?"

Trivia walked near as saw Strawberry from far and turned backwards just noticing his friend has a Tanuki tail

"S-Strawberry? w-why. . .why you. . .you turned a Tanuki now?"

"Strawberry" turned around as which Trivia could see "Strawberry" a bit

gasp

"S-STRAWBERRY!? S-STRAWBERRY WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?'

". . .don't worry, old friend. . .i am fine, i am a medic after all, no? i am ready to hang out now with you. . .let's start, shall we?"

I DONE instead of work by my own 200 special pics i am doing other's special lol

Long time since i discovered this AU existed and wanted do something for it! but couldn't find what to do since my ocs/aus are. . .well all Mr. Puzzles even my own sona lol and i had planned do it with my sona but she is total artificial

and i saw this and i said i wanted participate and i had Strawberry available so why not! (and be a follower since i followed the content without follow the artists cuz i am so shy-)

@grinnames congrats for the 200 followers i like your AU and whish if i didn't had artificial robots I would make a version of godbox of any of my aus or my sona but wouldn't so accept Strawberry as sacrifice for the collection 🙏🏻 hope SMG4 enjoys his new body that too bring nostalgia for be a Mario recolor

[lake-lady]

First time I've ever had chronic pain/a chronic health issue so debilitating in my life. I have a back injury (likely a severely herniated disc but the doctor suspects also an autoimmune disorder that runs in my family because were part Ashkenazi Jewish) and my insurance has denied me a doctor-requested MRI so the neurosurgeon has no idea what's actually going on and can only treat me with pain medication that barely helps. The insurance has taken two weeks so far to approve the request for physical therapy as well so I'm trying to stretch at home but it's not helping. I'm so scared. I feel like a failure because I'm so young but I know it's not my fault. I may have to drop out of grad school and lose my shot at entering my dream field (and making a living salary). I'm so scared and also just lost my long-term partner. Please send good thoughts. I just wanted to get this out into the world somehow because I'm terrified.

[kenxmatsui]

Though differences seemed to be plenty, similarities between them began to stack up too, proven again now in their way to see how far they could stretch their limits. Resilience and curiosity were his drivers in this for both stages of life, before and after death, he had pushed to see where the bar lay. Of course, with powers and immortality, tests were of the extreme kind. Still he was here given everything. He chuckled softly, "Me and you both. She still finds a way to short-circuit my mind so to speak. But, strangely, I wouldn't have it any other way."

He nodded understanding that need to ignore things. Pain, feelings, anything that hinted to something real, personal experiences and his parents have taught him such things were bad, that they were weaknesses and he had believed it, still did to some extent. With a sip of his tea Ken took to observing her, noting the movement, the press against her shoulder that aided her words, Ken understood that too and didn't push into that further, "That's alright, I understand what you meant to say anyway. Learning something leaves a mark." Physically, mentally and emotionally, but he couldn't bring himself to speak on that since he'd have to accept that in some capacity too.

"Something as telling her to see to an injured hand prompting such a reaction seems a little trivial? I'm not good with understanding emotions, apologies if I only seem to taking things at face value. Still though, if you say this is your doing somehow that she walked away, should you not be the one to reach out?" he asked, "I get you thinking it might be better that she never spoke to you again for her sake, that you might mess things up further down the line, but," he shrugged, "Personal experiences have taught me different." As Billie gave him a wide-eyed look, Ken returned with a knowing smile, "You didn't have to. It's rather obvious."

"So I am. beginning to understand," Billie said, her lips quirking upwards ever so slightly. "I understand testing one's limits." That was what most of her life had consisted of. It hadn't really been a desire, just a fact. A requirement to living. She knew her physical limits rather well, she thought. At least in this form. She couldn't actually bear to look at the wings whenever they came out, and she wasn't particularly fond enough of the scales to attempt to learn more about them. "So, no murder, then. What a relief," she joked. "Don't worry. I question my life regardless. I don't need a pixie's help in that regard."

Billie's face twitched into a frown as she thought about what to say. "I was taught to ignore it. Pain. I have a high tolerance. And now I just ignore it." Subconsciously, she reached up and rubbed at her shoulder, the place she'd been stabbed with an iron blade while fleeing her father. That hurt. Not from the physical pain of it, but from the knowledge that he'd wanted to actually kill her. He'd never attempted to kill her, before. Her frown grew. "There have been moments where intentional cuts have occurred. That is the nature of learning how to properly use a blade." She shifted, uncomfortable. "I've lost the thread of this conversation."

Her fingers wrapped around the cup, letting the warmth of it sink into her palms. "She hasn't said anything," she muttered. "She walked away from me. I-- I told her to get her hand seen to, so it's my fault, but she... If she missed me, she'd reach out. She'd try to talk to me. I don't think she wants to talk to me ever again." She realized she'd been tricked, her eyes wide. "I didn't say her name."

[ahmoseinarus]

Day 5

Sunburn | Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." 

[aria0fgold]

Whumptober day 5 prompt: "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

Character: Lady Irene-Janine-Karine (The Cursing of Château Castle)(In Stars and Time)

Lady Irene-Janine-Karine, a name well known in high society, famous amongst the nobility. She's regarded as the epitome of a noble lady, graceful and beautiful, she carries an air of dignity that many women envies and many men are drawn to, and with the weight that her title holds, it was no wonder that just as many desires her hand in marriage.

And yet, of all that she is known for, no one truly knows the truth behind the mask she wears. She trains diligently every day with barely any rest, it was the expectations that her family holds, the very foundation of the bars of her cage.

She hates it.

The effort she pours into her hard work were nothing but a dirty puddle in the ground for others to ignore and step on.

“You need to work harder.”

“This isn't enough.”

“You can do better than that.”

The more she lingered in her cage, the tighter the thorny vines around it grew, suffocating her further, blocking out any light, plunging her in a darkness she fears she will be lost in.

She hates it.

All her life, she had lived meeting the expectations around her, she had lived breathing for others, she had lived relying on praises she realizes were nothing but hollow. All her life, she hasn't spent a single moment living for herself.

And she hated every second of it.

“IRENE-JANINE-KARINE! What do you think you're doing?!” Her mother stormed into the training grounds with anger painting her face, it was a look Irene was more familiar with than a loving face that a mother should have for their child, “Let go of that sword right now! You should know better than anyone that ladies should never hold such objects! What would happen to your hands then? Your skin?! What would happen should a scar appear then?!”

She continued her barrage of scolding that Irene paid no mind to, she merely kept swinging the sword, as she had seen the knights done before.

“IRENE!!!” Her mother bellowed, she stomped towards her, heels clicking loudly into the training grounds' stone floor, she moved to slap the sword away from Irene's hand.

Unfortunately, Irene was tired. She was tired of how she had been living, tired of how she had been treated, she was tired of it all that she did not care for her mother anymore. So she swiftly moved backwards and pointed the sword to the woman she once lovingly called “mother.”

She gasped, fear and anger mixing in the features of her face, “Have you lost your mind?! What do you think you're doing, threatening me like that?!”

“From this day forward, I will not heed your words, I will not bow to anyone, and I will live for myself.” Irene spoke, voice stern and leveled, with an unyielding resolve and determination, she made clear that she will no longer be bound to the invisible chains they entangled her in. She will break free from her cage, no matter how painful it may be. “I'm tired of being who I am not.”

That was the last time she had spoken to her as Irene was forced out of the house. Not quite disowned, and not quite abandoned. She was her family's most prized trophy, she knew they wouldn't let go of her that easily. She was placed on house arrest, in a smaller mansion farther from the capital, situated in a poor town.

Irene didn't mind it, she lived her life forcing herself past her limit, and this, will be her greatest rebellion.

If my pain will even stretch that far…

...

I can just force it to.

Her family hoped that she realizes there was no other choice but to live as she always had. Irene will destroy that hope with her bare hands. No matter what happens.

I'll make this town flourish. And obtain a greater wealth than my family will ever have. I'll make them regret throwing me away, when I'm no longer useful to them.

She looked up to the clear sky, darkless and bright and prayed to the Change God her silent vow.

[non-un-topo]

The irony of trying to start a "pain journal" but being too fatigued and having too much brain fog from said pain to start one

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

This museum internship is gonna give me sewing calluses on my fingers more than a decade of embroidery ever did

[clumsyhissingcat]

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | “If my pain will stretch that far.” (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

OC Whump

Hi, here is my contribution no.5 for Whumptober !

A bit of context : Those two OC are siblings with a less than happy childhood. To put some perspective, the Ensorceleur was 16 when he broke his promise. Donovan was 9. Lucien, Donovan’s son, was in the care of his paternal grandfather for most of his childhood (the grandfather is doing much better with him than with his sons).

If you have any questions, I'd obviously be more than happy to answer! Also, English isn't my first language, so i apologize for any mistake. Check the tags for TW and enjoy !

The two brothers look equally surprised. They stare at each other in silence on the porch for long seconds.

Donovan is the first to catch himself.

-What are you doing here ? he growls, tense and aggressive. His posture has straightened and his grip on the doorknob is deadly.

-Ah. Um, stammers the Ensorceleur, and Donovan doesn't know him well enough to know how rare it is to catch him off guard. I've...come to drop some things off.

He raises the backpack he's holding at arm's length as proof. Donovan squints.

-These are Lucien's things, clarifies the mercenary. He left them at Silver and Lea's place and I came to bring them back...as I was passing by...

The mention of his son only creates more tension for Donovan, but he simply reaches for the backpack.

-I'll take them.

-Oh, yes, of course, says L’Ensorceleur. He makes no move to hand the bag to his brother.

-Just like that, what brings you here ?

-What's it to you ? snaps the other man instantly.

-Wow, calm down, I'm just curious !

L’Ensorceleur steps back, the bag dangling from his arm.

-Just give me the bag !

-Answer my question ! Come on, it's not like it's going to rip your throat out... !

Donovan closes the gap between them by stepping forward, and the other man immediately steps back to maintain the distance. The younger freezes, his features twisted with anger, then takes a deep breath and forces himself to regain some composure.

-I came to say hello, but they're downtown. I'm waiting for them.

The Ensorceleur’s face relaxes a little, a softer expression taking its place.

-I see. Did the old man leave you a spare key ?

-He's been hiding them in the same place for ten years. Now give me the bag and go.

-I need to use the bathroom.

-There's a public toilet...

-God, it'll take me 5 minutes, just let me in !

Donovan clenches his jaw and steps aside.

-You'd better hurry.

In his defense, it takes the Ensorceleur considerably less than 5 minutes. He comes back down quickly, and Donovan hates the nonchalant way the other man takes the opportunity to examine the decor and look at the remains of a disparate snack on the kitchen table. The room is small, tiled in yellow and orange to give it a warm feel. The large window lets in the fading afternoon light. The fridge is adorned with a handful of photos of a little then not so little boy. It's intimate and homey. The killer has no place here. Not that Donovan has one either.

-If you're done, you can go, hisses the translator.

The Ensorceleur hesitates. His brother's whole attitude is screaming at him to go, but...

-Actually, I was thinking maybe we should have a little chat. Why don't you...

-Talk ? repeats Donovan, his voice laced with sarcasm.

He pretends to gather the plates, to keep his hands busy and avoid meeting the other's gaze. There are words heavy with meaning on his tongue, but he refrains from adding anything.

-Yeah, says the Ensorceleur finally. About everything. I mean...I know you're mad at me, and I wanted...I wanted to talk about it.

Donovan refuses to answer, his chest constricted by a growing fury. He sweeps away the crumbs with the palm of his hand, giving himself a few seconds to try and gather his scattered thoughts.

-Don, please. I just want to talk to you.

The younger man remains focused on his task. The repetitive motion almost makes him forget the looming presence behind him. Donovan has never been able to do more than a few magic tricks, basic manipulations of the weak aura he possesses. Georges was always more powerful than he was.

-Don. Come on, Don. Come on. Please.

Smarter. Stronger.

-I'm sorry, Don.

More insolent, more selfish, more immature and inconsistent.

-You're sorry ? Sorry for what, exactly ? Donovan chokes, turning to face the monster in the house.

Georges-L'Ensorceleur takes a step back, apparently surprised by what he finds on Donovan's face.

-I don't care about what you want to tell me. There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choices. You took what you wanted and left everything else behind.

-Donovan...

-Shut up ! Barks his brother, eyes flashing with rage. Shut up !

The man takes a shaky breath. There's hesitation on the older man's face, as his brother’s emotions unleashs.

-You abandoned me, Donovan finally says. The words spill out between them, full of sharp edges.

The rage fades away as quickly as it appeared.

-It's been over 25 years. There's nothing left to say. I don't need apologies or explanations. Just stay as far away from me as possible. And, the translator quickly adds, I may not be able to protect Lucien from your lies, but I'll be there when you betray him the way you betrayed me. To bear the consequences of your actions for you.

The Ensorceleur turns pale and he straightens up :

-I would never hurt Lucien !

-You promised him the same way you promised never to leave me ?

-You think that's what I wanted ? I didn't know how to go back, Don ! I just didn't !

-But you found out a way, eventually. And you chose to never come back. You chose to leave in the first place.

The mercenary clenches his fists, struggling to maintain his composure as his brother turns away again.

-Get the hell out.

-You think this was easy for me ?  You think I didn't suffer while I was out there ?

Donovan pauses, stunned for a second. Stunned that the Ensorceleur, or Georges, or whatever name seemed most appropriate, would allow himself such a reflection.

-You think this was easy ? You think I wanted to leave you behind ? You think I wanted to leave you behind, in that fucking house with...with him ? continues the Ensorceleur. A violent anger surges through him, and he sweats in a way that's completely excessive for September.

-You think...

-You promised me just one thing ! shouts Donovan. One damn thing ! The only thing you were ever going to do for me ! Fuck you !

-Fuck you ! What, you think she never hit me ? You think I had it easier than you ?

-You've never been home enough to make it hard ! Always outside whenever you didn't like something, telling me you'd be home soon and pretending not to see my bruises, apologizing and doing it all over again the next day ! Even after she was dead ! Am I supposed to feel sorry for you and  pity you ?  

The dam breaks and the Ensorceleur lunges forward.

Donovan has no time to do anything but flinch. The Guardian grabs him by the collar and slams him against the wall, eliciting a muffled scream. The Ensorceleur shakes him, panting heavily inches from his face, closer to losing control than he'd been for months.

-Shut up ! Shut up !

Donovan remains silent, breathless and shoulders aching. And if this silence is due more to years of learning than to violent shock, no one can tell the difference. Or almost nobody.

The Ensorceleur's blind rage subsides a little, enough to look at his little brother's fear-twisted face, held in the hands of someone who was supposed to protect him and who had already broken the most precious promise between them. Ordinary terror, so similar to that of so many before him.

No. Not him. He can't...he can't...Donovan...

-You're just like her.

The Ensorceleur widened his eyes and hurriedly released Donovan. He takes a faltering step backwards, horrified by his own inability to control himself, the weight of his actions made even heavier by his younger brother savage gaze.

The latter straightens a little and pulls at his shirt collar with one hand. His neutral, composed face holds firm, but his trembling hands bear witness to his shock and fear.

-You think I don't know what you've been doing all these years ? All those people you killed like dogs ? he spits.

The Ensorceleur stares at him, his stomach turning. How informed was he ? Who had informed him ?

He almost missed his brother's final verdict.

-Whatever happened to you, you deserve it. You deserve every bit of it.

It's strange, this need for recognition you feel from your family. This need for love, forgiveness, understanding. It's been a long time since he and Donovan shared anything. Today, the only thing forcing them together is a child who should never have learned anything about his paternal family and about whom they know almost nothing. Not much. Hardly more than the little they had all those years ago.

The Ensorceleur feels as if his chest is being crushed.

His brother looks straight into his eyes. It's empty and dull, the anger and pain purged by the passage of time.

For days, he'd been trying to find the courage to talk to Donovan. The courage to reopen the old wound and drain the pus. He'd never thought he'd find anything but a scar. Testimony to a past suffering, erased and now almost painless.

- It's been over 25 years. There's nothing left to say. I don't need excuses or explanations. We don’t share anything anymore, if we’ve already did so. I just want you to stay as far away from my life as possible. I'm tired of always being the one to suffer for others. I'm tired of having to sympathize with others, of having to be understanding, of having to be grateful for my easy life. I don't have what it takes anymore.

The Ensorceleur manages to take a strangled breath. The air passing through his lungs is pungent and irritating. He forces himself to relax his arms, a reflex movement. A fighter needs to take it easy in preparation for combat. An assassin needs to keep his flexibility.

-I'm tired of having to be the forgiving one.

A monster must abandon the idea of forgiveness.

Two strangers face each other in silence.

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.

And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[ddejavvu]

Cant stop thinking about Logan bending Wades darling little sister (in her 20s) over the kitchen table while Waded out on a mission. That is all I can think about right now

Insatiable - Logan Howlett x Reader

send me logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. age gap (legal; reader is in her 20's, logan is like... 200 years old.), wilson!reader, dirty talk, slight breeding mentioned

The only reason you're able to do it in the kitchen is because Wade isn't home, and you'd managed to shut the door on his pathetically endearing little dog. Mary Puppins is probably tearing up Wade's poor excuse for a comforter right now, and Logan is tearing up- well.

You.

Your pussy.

You're bent so far over the counter that your tits are cold, your nipples stiff and sensitive against the countertop. The pressure against them hurts, or maybe it's a lack of other stimulation against them- either way, they're stinging and you wish to right yourself and tug mercilessly at them.

But Logan's weight- not the full load, or you'd be crushed - is holding you down, your hands scrabbling uselessly at the smooth counter for purchase that you'll never find as you're rocked steadily into the cabinets below.

Logan's cock is buried so deep inside of you that you're not sure he'll ever get it out again, but then he does, and then he thrusts back in and you're hit all over again with a sense of shit, I didn't know I went that deep. He's found your limit, stretched your cunt to the breaking point with his impressive length, and his facial hair tickles the side of your face as he takes your cunt from behind.

Your face smacks painfully against the cabinets over the counter and Logan reaches a hand up to cover your forehead, "Shit, be careful. Head down, honey, there you go. Wouldn't want Big Brother finding an imprint of your face in the wood."

"Whaddya think he'd say?" Logan's suddenly snickering, a gruff delight to his voice as he rams his cock inside you once more, thrusting at a steady, merciless pace, "Shit, if he knew my old ass had his sweet little sister pinned up against the counter..."

Wade would kill him. Or try valiantly to, as it's been established before by Wade's best efforts that Logan is one difficult motherfucker to kill. But you don't fancy a bloodbath even if the vessel will survive, so you tuck yourself tight to the counter so that you won't have to explain to Wade why the cupboard door is off its hinges.

Leaning forwards more only pushes your ass out further, and Logan groans, dick twitching, as he's able to thrust more viciously beneath the curve of your ass. He's humping you like a dog, a depraved pace set as he chases an impending orgasm.

"Taking you in your brother's house- aagh, shit," Logan grunts, nose nudging against the back of your neck as he inhales your sweat, "God he's gonna drop his swords on this fucking counter as soon as he walks through the door, not- not even gonna know your tits were smashed up against it. He's gonna get coke from that cabinet in an hour," Logan's voice is strained, moreso the faster he pumps his hips, and all you can do is cry out as he ravages your cunt, "He's never gonna know I made his sister cream up against it. Never gonna know I fucked my fuckin' babies into you here, aah- agh-I-!"

Logan bites, hard against your shoulder, catching some of your neck in the process and introducing yet another blindingly painful sensation that turns into sick, twisted pleasure between your legs. Your cunt is spent, barely capable of another orgasm after you'd already had two fucked out of you before, but it gives you its best shot as Logan's thick, warm cum gushes into you, immediately too much for your poor pussy to handle as it drips down your thighs instead.

Logan relinquishes your shoulder with a low groan, his breath coming hot and heavy as he pants, "You alright?"

"Yeah," You whimper, legs shaking as Logan holds you steady, "I- I don't think I can stand anymore."

"That's okay." Logan hums, gentler now that he's fucked himself calm. He peels you off of the counter, supporting your body weight as he half-walks, half-drags you down the hallway towards his bedroom, "Next round's on my bed, sweetheart. You won't need to move a muscle."

[benkeibear]

『 Big 』

☼ synopsis: Gyomei was a gentle giant, or at least he tried to be but it wasn't easy when he's balls deep inside of you.

☼ character: Gyomei

☼ wc: 1.2k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, sub!reader, size kink, oral (reader receiving), facesitting, fingering, cervix fucking, creampie

☼ notes: he is rotting my brain badly it just won't stop 😩 || requests are open!

Gyomei has always been a gentle giant, his physical appearance small compared to his big heart and that's what made you fall for him. It was the way he cared for his loved ones so dearly, how he held your hand with utmost care as if you'd break at any second. Loving Gyomei was a second nature to you, smiling at the way he panics when he feels like he's been a little too rough, how he makes sure not to raise his voice at you, no matter what or how small he managed to made you look - compared to him, almost everyone looked small. His frame was dwarfing yours when he kissed you tenderly, big hands resting on your hips ever so gently, touch feather light when he moved to cup your cheeks. The way he had no issue lifting you up to make you sit on his lap instead, looming over you made him fear he'd accidentally squish you to death beneath his large frame but you couldn't complain when your hands rested on his broad chest, lips locking once more in a heated yet gentle kiss.

A low rumble came from his chest when you slowly unbuttoned his shirt “petal… are you sure?” He mumbles, stopping your hands from undoing another button. The memory of your pained whines coming back into his head from when you two made love last time, at how he barely fit inside of you and how sore you were after. What he couldn't see however, was how your eyes rolled back into your head and how the drool slipped out of your mouth at how good the stretch felt despite the stinging sensation. “I’m sure Gyo… you make me feel so good… so full,” you whispered as you planted open mouthed kisses onto his chest which made him melt.

Who is he to deny you your wishes, allowing you to undress him further before big hands reached for your clothes, taking them off piece by piece and letting his hands wander over your body to feel your soft skin. This was one of his favorite parts, feeling the goosebumps form under his gentle touch, your nipples pebbled effortlessly when he swiped the pads of his thumbs over them before leaning down to capture one of them between his lips to suck on it eagerly while his tongue flicked over it. Sweet mewls filled the room when he moved on to the other nipple, hands traveling to your thighs.

Gyomei had no issue lifting you from his lap onto his face when he laid back, his tongue swiping through your drenched folds without further warning as he moaned from your sweet taste. Your hands found home in his short hair, gently tugging it when your hips started to move on their own accord, grinding against his skilled tongue only to be held in place by your waist, his tongue dragging torturously slow through your folds until he attacked your bundle of nerves with quick flicks, the change of pace making you cry out his name.

Angelic moans filled his ears, muffled by your thighs squeezing around his head the closer you got, moaning into your sweet cunt when you graced his tongue with your juices, coming undone from the way he was eating you out and Gyomei refused to stop - needing you dripping wet. Only when your clit was so sensitive you couldn't take more of his onslaught he let go of your waist, allowing you to fall off of him but not too far, big hands already spreading your thighs again "Need to get you nice and ready for me, petal," he mused, comforting kisses getting littered on your thighs when a single finger entered you, enough to make you moan once again.

The way you clawed onto his arms made him more eager, forgetting his own size when he pushed a second and third finger into you which left you gasping for air, velvet walls fluttering around the digits and the stretch alone made you come undone once, twice until you were begging for his cock. Your lewd pleas for him made the heat rise up to his cheeks, fingers scissoring you open just to make sure you're ready to take him. Oh how he'd love to see the sight in front of him, cunt sopping wet, leaving a patch on the sheets beneath you just from his fingers. His cock hung heavy, the precum already leaking down onto his fat shaft when he wrapped his hand around it, his huge body once again dwarfing you beneath him, groaning when your hand reached for his length, barely able to wrap your hand around it. Everything was just so small in comparison to him, it made it hard to stay composed but hurting you or even breaking you was something he was genuinely scared of, forcing himself to take deep breaths when he lined the tip up with your entrance, needing slight force to push the head of his cock past your entrance.

Gyomeis jaw went slack at the mewls you let go, his cock slipping into you inch by inch while he praised you until his balls rested heavy against you, hips lined up with yours. “You're taking me so well, flower,” he whispered, his lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss while your walls still struggled to adjust, feeling them clench around him until you started moving your hips, signaling that he can move. Pulling out almost all the way before pushing himself back inside of you made him see stars, able to feel every ridge in your walls as he did so, your desperate moans filling the room alongside the lewd squelching of your arousal - a sign that he prepared you well enough. The louder your moans got, the more your lover lost himself, his pace quickened as well as the power of his thrusts until he was pounding into you as if this is the last time he will ever have you. Hearing you cry out in pleasure from the way his cock kissed your cervix over and over, almost inside of your womb made his own tears run over his cheeks in thick streams. “You can do it, petal” he moaned, your thighs folded tightly to your chest when he felt you come undone, your cunt squeezing him and milking him from everything he had to give. Heavy grunts fell from his chest when his hips started to rut into you, his cum spurting inside of you and painting your walls white as you wiped the tears from his cheeks until his hips finally stilled and his head came down to hide in the crook of your neck.

It amazed him every time how well you took him despite the strain it puts on your body, but you cry and moan his name so beautifully, begging him for more and more and you both knew that it never just stays at one round, especially not when your walls still fluttered around him after he came, pushing him into overstimulation but he didn't mind it, wanting to give his petal everything she wanted, easily flipping you over so you were now on top of him, letting you choose your own pace. All he wanted was to feel you so close, big hands intertwining with yours when you started riding him.

[bunnis-monsters]

Sacrificial Heifer

Bull Hybrids x Cow Hybrid!Reader

Commissioned by: @yuriohoe04

WC: 1k

A/N: Only 2 more slots for my commissions rn! Make sure to get them while you can. Once my comms are closed I won’t be opening them again until all my comms are finished ^^

Warnings: dubcon, breeding, lactation, pregnancy, gangbang

🥛 🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛

It had been a week since the farmer announced that you and your barn mates were ready to be bred for the first time.

At first, the lot of you were excited, some even ovulating and ready to breed. One of your friends had her tail lifted up, and it swayed softly as she sighed.

“Can’t you imagine it, being bred by a handsome bull? Do you think they’d want to settle and become mates?”

You rolled your eyes, swatting her thigh with your tail. “Not likely. Most bulls are just looking for a heifer to breed and toss aside for the next one. You’ll be lucky if they give you more than a few minutes of your time.”

An older cow had warned you many times that bulls liked to play with young heifers’ hearts, and that if you wanted to live a peaceful life on the farm, then you’d just breed and go about your day.

That’s what you told yourself out of fear of getting your heart broken… until the day finally came to breed.

All the other heifers were filling themselves up, brushing out their hair and tidying themselves up. The pheromones wafting through the barn were thick, almost stifling.

This all changed when the bulls walked in. They were big, bulky, and honestly? Terrifying.

They walked in with confidence, eyeing the new heifers with keen, sharp eyes that told you they were more than experienced when it came to breeding.

“Alright, who’s first?”

All the heifers shivered at the authoritative tone of voice. They had never been spoken to in such a way. The farmers they’ve had in the past had always been gentle, giving their bottoms hearty slaps as they herded them into the barn.

These bulls didn’t look like they even knew what the word gentle meant. They knew how to work with an inexperienced heifer, how to breed them into submission and stuff them full of cum.

You looked on with a mix of nervousness and curiosity. The bulls were definitely handsome, and despite their rough way of speaking, the way they tried their best to look a bit smaller told you that maybe they weren’t as bad as you had been told.

Before you could retreat to observe them from the back of the stall, you were shoved out into an open space, landing in the arms of one of the bulls.

“A volunteer. Cute one too.”

You yelped as your ass was groped, the bull squeezing it lightly before inspecting your face. “Little heifer, no need to be nervous. Gonna put a calf in you, alright?”

“Quite small, ain’t she?”

Another bull approached you from behind, lifting up your tail to get a better look at your fat ass. “Perfectly plump too. Got them child bearing hips… mmm…”

The feeling of a cock rubbing against your panties made your body freeze up. They both cooed at you, already able to sense your pheromones spiking. “Someone’s begging to be fucked silly, huh?”

One of the bulls traced circles over your clothed clit, laughing as you blubbered our half hearted pleas for them to let you go. “Hush, heifer. You’re soaking my hand, gotta breed that fat cunt of yours.”

Before long you were being hoisted up, a big fat cock pushing against your pussy. It was huge, and you were sure it would tear your body in two!

“Sure this little thing can take it?” another bull asked, this one playing with your clit as the other two bulls prepped your hole. “Smallest heifer in the herd I’ve seen so far…”

“She’ll take it.”

And with that, he rutted into you, stretching your fat pussy out as he bounced you on his cock. It was painful at first, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, but your body was built for this. You were made to be bred by bulls, to get pregnant and produce milk and calves.

You felt your pussy gush as he fucked into you, biting into your shoulder. “That’s it, baby. Cream on my cock, lemme hear you cry out for me.”

You were passed around by the bulls, feeling so full and happy. As you were bent over and groped by another bull, you let out the prettiest of moans.

“God, that’s it, that’s a good heifer. Take my load, fuck…”

A bull took one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling as another mounted and bred you thoroughly. Before you were a virgin, and now you were being fucked by so many different cocks that you could barely think.

They rolled you onto your tummy, lifting your ass into the air and eating the cum out of your pussy, wanting to give you a nice and fresh creampie and hoping their’s would be the load to impregnate your fertile womb.

All the other heifer’s watched in awe and jealousy as the bulls kept their attention on you, unable to spare a second glance to the others. You were so cute, a small, chubby little heifer that was perfect for beating calves. How the hell were they supposed to breed anyone else when you were bouncing on their cocks?

By the end of the breeding session, your belly was distended, stuffed full of cum. None of the other heifers were bred because the bulls were way too busy doting on you after they all got a turn.

Now, as your belly began to swell with a calf and your tits got heavy and full, the bulls couldn’t help but cum all over and in you. Your pretty mouth and pussy was always keeping someone’s cock nice and warm.

Drinking milk from your fat and heavy tits was the best part of their day. They had to test your milk to make sure it was high quality… and they also just wanted to suck on your nipples.

After all, you were their perfect little breeding cow. None of the other heifers compared to you, none as sweet and soft and pretty. If anyone had a problem, they could take it up with the bulls.

You sat on your bed, being fed strawberries as your belly was massaged.

Maybe that older cow was wrong, because these bulls adored you with their entire heart… and you were excited to be thoroughly bred again once you gave birth.

You were a cow hybrid after all, and needed to produce lots of milk and calves. Being a breeding cow was your job…

And you were damn good at it.

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

12 | and I know

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, semi-public sex, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk, filth, praise, fluff, comfort(?), slight exhibitionism, etc.

❧ Word Count | 5.5k

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——“Uhuh, thaaat’s it. Ride that fuckin’ cock. Jus’ like that.” Gojo’s grunting out to you within the next few minutes. You knew he was a talker but fuck, it really does get significantly worse every time you engage in these sexual acts with him. “What’s my name? Say it again f’me, pretty. Sounds s’good on your tongue.”

He is so stupidly talkative that it's almost painful, mainly because you’re trying to maintain the constant bounce on his long cock. That leaked, blushing pink tip of his is just French kissing the sweetest depths of your cunt and you’re left ridiculously addicted.

“S-Satoru… hnngh-, fuck,” You babble in between the thick stretches of Gojo’s cock slotting into your greedy cunt perfectly. His dick is so mean against your soddened walls that you swear you’re cockdrunk after only the first few minutes of riding him. Not to mention the way he’s talking to you is doing wonders at making your mind go blank.

With his head all relaxed back against the seating of the car, his darkened blue eyes overly enthralled by the gorgeous display of your body over him, and his hands helping you fuck yourself on him just right—Gojo’s in heaven just as much as you are right now. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ perfect for me, shiiit.” He sleazes, moving his hands back to relax along the expanse of his car’s seating.

All he wants to do is just sit there and watch you for a bit. His eyes are everywhere on you though, dazed by each jump of your tits, the way his shaft disappears inside you over and over as you cry out his name, and the way your face dazes over in the most slutty expression he’s ever seen from you.

“Y’know how long I’ve been-, fuck… wantin’ to see you like this?” Gojo hums as he moves one hand. He can only ever keep his touch off of you for so long before that urge consumes him again. That hand of his falls on your hip and he guides you through the next roll against him, “Y’look so fuckin pretty ridin’ this cock. Like it was made f’you, ughh fuck.”

Your brows meet in pleasure and a breathy moan of his name starks past your lips. His groans are by far one of the sexiest sounds you’ve ever heard. Each one ripples out from deep within his chest, bottom lip having this slight quiver to it each time he releases that sinful sound and his abs visibly tensing up at every clamp your pussy makes around him. 

The moonlight from outside was the only thing illuminating Gojo’s sweat-slicked body as you rode him in earnest. The windows of his car had slightly fogged within the few minutes you’ve been having sex in this position and anyone who walks by for even a fraction of a second would know what was going on in there without a doubt.

Part of the reasoning behind that being the grunts and groans from Gojo accompanied by the delicate moans of his name pouring from your mouth, and the other reason being the slight bounce of the vehicle. It’s a faint movement, sure. But anyone could gather what was taking place behind those foggy-tinted windows of Gojo’s car.

The man’s gaze soon focuses on your tits and he’s stuck in a small trance watching the consistent recoil of them as you move. So stuck that he involuntarily leans forward and wraps his fingers around your waist for a second, then his lips are cupping your right perked bud into his mouth and he’s latched onto you like a damn slug.

With an eager suck and a muffled groan, you feel that slick tongue of his whirl around your nipple—flicking it in between his teeth for a second before pulling away slightly just to spit on it. “Pretty body like this deserves worship,” Gojo rasps hotly into your skin before taking you back into his mouth. Then his eyes flick upward and he catches the way you’re whining for him.

“Satoru,” You whisper, one of your hands losing its fingers into the tangled mess of his white hair as you hold him in place. Then your hips are rutting against his in more jerky movements and you can feel his cock slap so sloppily against your syrupy clenched walls.

He angles his head a bit more so you can watch him suckle your nipple against his tongue lewdly. Humming a lazy, “Mmh?” In response to your small cry of his name. “Y’like that?”

You just nod and intimacy glosses over both of your eyes. “Uhuh, f-feels good,” You stammer, feeling him groan messily at your words.

Gojo flashes a lopsided smile before lulling his tongue out, allowing you to get the raw sight of the muscle swirling around your perked bud languidly. “Mmh, good. S’all I wanna do,” He slurs into you as one of his hands slides down along your body languidly until his thumb approaches your clit and he gives you this mean and abrupt swirl.

A gasp emits from your throat and Gojo’s smile only grows more wildly obsessed. The expression on your face, the sudden tightening of your walls around his aching cock, the changed pitch in your breathing—oh fuck, it’s intoxicating. Gojo’s thumbing at your clit faster than he realizes without second thought, infatuated by how insane he’s driving you right now.

You quickly shoot a hand down to his wrist and hunch forward, your forehead falling to his shoulder as your hips come to a jerky halt. Your lips remain parted and your legs feel like they’re turning into unmoving mush. “W-Wait,” You choke out, feeling his thumb swat left and then press. “Fuck, Satoru—“

Before you can even finish moaning his name, you’re making a filthy mess around him and your body is twitching ever so slightly.

Smiling wider, Gojo’s lips press against your ear and his voice dips into that deeply soft aroused pitch, “There she is,” He praises ever so sweetly while caressing your clit with his thumb softly and relishing in every tense grasp and spasm of your cunt.

He remains gentle with you for a little while longer, letting your high die off and being careful not to drive you straight into overstimulation. You’re busy panting heavily against his shoulder and your hips have unconsciously lifted so he’s not even fully inside you anymore.

Gojo lets off a hum and glides his hands over to hold onto those hips of yours, his touch tender. “You can give me another one, right?” He requests into your ear whilst feeling your body up again.

Your hands move to hold onto his wrists and it takes your mind a second to come almost all the way down from your high. Batting your lashes, you lean up from his shoulder and meet his eyes with a surprisingly eager nod. “Mhm,” You hum, guiding his hands downwards to remain glued to your hips, “M’not… done with you yet, ‘Toru.”

There’s an angry twitch of his cock felt inside you but what really gets you going is the crazed way in which his smile shifts, practical hearts fluttering through his gaze in reaction to your words. The confidence you had so suddenly despite the way you were just clinging onto him desperately has the man in a frenzy. “Oh?” Gojo muses, slouching back again. “Well, shit. M’all yours, sweets. Give this cowboy a nice ride, yeah?”

Rolling your eyes at his never-ending corniness, your hands leave his wrists and graze over his chest as you give him a brief feel. Gojo shudders beneath that small touch of yours, his brows just barely tensing while his eyes flick back and forth between you caressing him and your focused expression. Then, in an instant, your eyes meet his and you have this nerve to smirk.

The man doesn’t even get a chance to gather what’s about to take place before you’re retracting your touch from his anxious body and placing your hand atop the cowgirl hat you’ve got on—having remembered what kinda costume you were wearing and the way you hadn’t stripped yourself of the get-up completely. And oh, are you the most perfect woman Gojo thinks he’s ever laid his eyes on because when you tip your hat back a bit, cock your head to the side a little, and roll your hips forward perfectly, he realizes he’s about to get a slight show from you.

Damn the way your eyes stay on his too ‘cause now he can’t hide the way his eyes flicker as you grind against him sensually. Back and forth ‘n back and forth. The rhythmic rock of your body against his was driving him insane. Gojo’s jaw falls faster than he realizes at the very second that his cock delves deep inside you. Then he makes the mistake of looking down at the connection and oh god…

“Fuuck me,” Gojo pants thickly, “F-Fuck me, baby. Shit, d-don’t—oh fuck,” He sputters out, spotting that sexy bulge of his cock imprinted against your skin. He was so deep, stuffing you nice ‘n full.

You move a hand to his chin and his breath leaves his throat entirely in a faint gasp as you force his head up. Now he’s met with your face again and shit, he’s so weak. “Eyes on me, ‘Toru. C’mon,” You direct gently.

Lifting languidly, you watch him choke out moans with each time your pussy sloshes down on him, engulfing his dick in your warmth and sucking him in perfectly. Gojo doesn’t even remember what he was mad about before this. Hell, what’d you guys even come out here to his car for? Surely it wasn’t this… this is…

“Satoru,” You call you, breaking him from his daze. Then you lean forward and your thumb swipes against his bottom lip, “You’re drooling…”

At that point, he doesn’t even try to suppress the whine that leaves his throat. It’s loud and clear all for you—striking against your ears in this desperate pitch that makes your cunt throb wildly.

Your hands steadily snake around his neck and you pull yourself close to him, chest to chest, and breaths mingling with one another again. His eyes can’t leave yours now, not when you’re this close, and not when you’re gazing at him so intimately. Your pace picks up again and Gojo’s losing his everloving mind at each and every swivel and swirl of your hips. So nasty with these sloppy squelches echoing against the expanse of his car.

Now nonverbal, the vehicle feels ten times hotter than it was before. You’re so close to him that he fears for the possibility of you hearing that thrumming heart of his against his ribcage. Gojo’s nervous.

Or… He was until his plump cockhead thwacks against this spongey spot inside you and your entire body reacts with a quick lift of your hips.

It’s then that his mind seems to start working again—his hands gripping onto your skin tighter than before, “Nonono, don’t run from it, lemme feel her ‘real good,” Gojo rasps out heavily, his glassy eyes glistening over as you ease yourself back down nice and slow so that his cock can hit that spot again. “Mhm, riiide this dick, sweetheart. There you go, keep that pretty pussy on me—fuuck..”

He’s right where you need him and he knows it by your twitching expression. You’re losing your composure all over again and the confidence you had moments ago is fading into orgasmic bliss. “S-, aah… Satoru,” You gasp lightly, the words hardly leaving your throat while you try lifting yourself again to escape for a moment.

Gojo shakes his head. “That’s it, ‘Toru’s gotcha’. Hold onto me,” He instructs, still maintaining that honeyed eye contact as he feels your arms begin to lock around his neck.

He leans back even more, your body angling along with him. Then, Gojo places his large hands on the purchase of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart and lifting your cunt almost all the way off of his cock slowly. Once only the tip is left kissing your pussy, you get half a second to catch your breath before he pushes you right back down on him even slower than before. Lazily letting his thick cock spread your drooling pussy open all over again.

“So fuckin’ wet,” He grunts, using his grip on your ass to slick your cunt up and down his dick messily.

It’s slow at first but with the next whine of his name you let out, Gojo gives your ass a harsh slap before keeping you in place and then thrusting his hips upward.

Your jaw falls and you start drooling, “Fuck, ah.. mnh, S-Satoru, fuck me,” Your words are just spilling out of your mouth as Gojo drowns his cock up into that filthy cavern of yours, tip gushing at the wet gurgles leaving your cunt whilst he bottoms out.

His balls smack heavy against your ass with how hard he fucking himself up into you. Eventually, he finds his mouth hanging open and his eyes rolling all the way back once he gets a nice pace going for himself. “Right here, huh?” Gojo huffs mid-thrust, just barely prodding against that sensitive spot of yours for a bit before hitting it directly and watching your eyes go wide ‘n then fall back. “Yeahh, that’s the spot, isn’t it?”

You’re clinging onto him all over again, your nails scratching over the upper skin of his back as words fail to form in your mouth. The only thing leaving your throat was wet moans before Gojo smiled again and then pressed his lips to yours.

It’s a filthy, drool-induced kiss but neither of you seems to care. Wet smacks from all over ricochet throughout his vehicle as the two of you get entirely lost in one another. From the constant thick stretch of his cock to the needy way in which his hands explored your body, you’d found yourself forgetting how you got to this point with him as well. Gojo’s hands smoothed along your tensed skin each time he guided you down on him, his lips locked with yours eagerly in contrast as he did so.

And then you weren’t fairing much better—running your nails all throughout his hair, along his shoulder and back, scraping at his skin, and hissing into his mouth when he hit too deep. Most of his vehicle was fogged with the air of sex by this point, safe for the windshield which wasn’t as fogged since it’s all the way in the front but it’s not like anyone would be looking or watching the two of you.

After all, it was dark where Gojo had his car parked so neither of you had a care in the world. Not only that but, as said before, a person would be able to tell what was taking place inside that vehicle anyway. It’d dip down and then spring back up in a rhythmic fashion that only meant one thing…

Given that, you were far too caught up in fucking Gojo to the brink of insanity that the last thought to cross your mind was the possibility of someone walking by the car and seeing what happened. Or, more specifically, someone you know walking by and spotting the two of you.

The world probably has something against this man because it’s really just his luck that when he decides to break away from the party to get some fresh air and go on a small walk, it’s Gojo’s car he’s passing by. Now, he spotted the bouncing of the vehicle long before approaching it but he had no idea whose vehicle it was and it’s not like that was his first time acknowledging some horny couple going at it in the car.

What told Choso that it was Gojo’s vehicle was the all too familiar muffled sound of your moaning along with the faintly blurred sight of your costume top. Of course Gojo has decent tint on his windows, y’know, all except for the windshield which has a lighter tint on it… That, and the fact that Choso found himself staring too hard so it wasn’t hard for him to spot you.

Tripping over his own feet as he realizes it’s you, the man stumbles forward to quickly pass the car with a loud clearing of his throat.

And the cherry on top? The fact that the sound that leaves his throat hits your ears from inside.

Your lips messily detach from Gojo’s and both of you are panting as you turn your head to glance over to your left, watching as someone’s silhouette passes by the car rather quickly. “Shit, Satoru,” You call out breathlessly as your eyes follow the outline of someone distancing themself from the vehicle as fast as they could. Hell, it looked like they were running away.

Gojo grunts, “Huh? What’s wrong, why’d you stop?”

You look back down at the man in all his unkempt glory, watching a small bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face. He was such an unfairly pretty man. “I think someone saw us,” You hush out to him before snatching your gaze away from his attentive blue eyes and glancing elsewhere in search of any other people who may be passing by.

The man beneath you releases an airy chuckle, “Oh, that’s what you’re worried about? Now?” Gojo teases. He can’t help but find it funny how you worry about the possible chance of getting caught while he’s damn near balls deep inside you. 

“Yes, ‘now’, I think I just saw someone walk by,” You tell him.

It’s silly that you’re concerning yourself with this even though no one should be able to tell who’s doing what in his car from the outside. Gojo shakes his head softly, trying not to completely dismiss your concern as his hands slide down to the underside of your thighs. His thumbs caress your skin and he leans up a bit just to angle his head into the crook of your neck. 

“So? I doubt they know or care what we’re up to in here,” He assures you, “But, hey,” Gojo leans his head over so that you can look at him again and when you do, he flashes you a small comforting smile, “Would it really be so bad if someone did see us?”

You let off a huff, “Yes!”

He laughs, “Why?”

“Because…” Okay, truth be told, you could care less if someone saw the two of you. If you were truly worried, you would’ve never gotten yourself into this position (literally) in the first place. So, when he asks you why, you’re not really sure of what to say. “I just–”

“Are you worried about someone seeing you? Is that it?” Gojo asks. As those words leave him, you feel his hands grip onto your thighs a bit tighter. “‘Cause that’s an easy fix, sweets.”

You hadn’t realized how spacious Gojo’s car was until he was flipping you over and having you lay back against the seats of the vehicle. For a small moment, his cock slips out of you while the two of you get repositioned and before you have much time to register everything, he’s on top of you and folding your legs up against your chest.

Grinning down at you now, Gojo tips his head to the side, “Is this better for you? Now if someone looks and sees anything, all they’ll see is me.”

You bat your damp lashes up at him for a moment before nodding. “Y-Yeah, this is fine…”

“Unless you wanted to stop completely?” He goes on to suggest, searching the look in your eyes carefully for a second only to watch the way you quickly shake your head.

Moving to grab a light hold onto his arm, you sigh, “Nono, this is fine. We can uhm… We can keep going.”

Gojo lets out a relieved sigh and then looks down, angling his hips and parting your legs further just so he can nudge his cock back inside you. With the first careful thrust, you’re moaning and he’s groaning already as if he wasn’t just inside you a few seconds ago.

Then he leans down to you and fuck if he wasn’t deep before then he damn sure is now with the way he presses his weight down against you and rolls his hips in.

You gasp sharply and let out a curse beneath your breath, the small sound enough to have Gojo falling right back into that addictive state of need. He drags his hips back tentatively before fucking himself into you at this perfect pace that has your mind forgetting all about the worry you’d harbored mere moments ago.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Meanwhile, now back at your shared apartment was a rather… hopeless Choso Kamo.

He doesn’t think he’s ever left a party that fast before. Sure, the thing in the kitchen had been one thing but that? Oh, his poor heart just couldn’t take it. And neither could his cock, apparently.

Yeah, by the time he makes it home, he’s slamming doors and snatching his clothes off, irritated by the mere fact that he just had to be the one person to have spotted you and Gojo having sex. What makes it so humorous is that he’s also the only person who was able to tell that was you in that car with him, anyone else would’ve just minded their business or not have been able to tell it was you.

But, y’know, when you’ve been friends with someone for over eight years and have been through all kinds of shit with them, it’s only fair for you to be able to recognize them by their blurred back profile inside a car at wee hours into the night… right?

Fuck. All Choso wanted to do was go on a walk and now he’s back home, pissed off, and… stupidly erect.

It’s shameful the effect you have on him, truly. He shouldn’t even relieve himself of his arousal right now honestly. Choso doesn’t even know why he’s in this state. His mind is annoyed but his body is on some other type of vibe entirely. It only takes one or two replays of your body bouncing up and down in a way that’s far too familiar for the man to find his hand wrapped around his dick.

“Fuck,” Choso sighs tiredly. He couldn’t even make it to his room either, spread out right on the couch in the living room, tossing his head back, thinking about you all over again, and driving himself crazy.

It’s a brief and very lazy jerk-off sesh, one that has the poor guy feeling shameful the moment he cums at the thought of you giving him that usual glare of yours. 

He’s screwed, and not in the way he’d prefer right now.

So fuckin’ screwed.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

In the midst of that, you’re busy on cloud nine as you’re getting fucked through your nth orgasm of the night. You didn’t know it was possible for you to be folded up and stuffed so dumb in such a short amount of time and yet there you were.

You’d lost count of how many times you’d cried out Gojo’s name tonight along with how many times you cum around his weighty cock. By this point, your legs were wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, and he’s mid-orgasm—stuffing you overly full and causing his cum to spill out from your puffy overstimulated cunt. 

Gojo’s right in your ear again, huffing and puffing while choking out your name and babbling something about how perfect you are. His dick is inside you twitching and throbbing so aggressively with each spurt of cum that leaves him.

This was probably his second or third time finishing inside you for the night. His car will definitely need a deep clean after this but he could care less about that right now.

“F-Fuck,” He whispers to you, his hands carrying this slight tremble as he holds onto you. “Shit, I think I lo–,” He chokes on his own words, struggling not to let his high cause him to say something insane. “I’m losin’ my mind.. Sorry, ignore me…” He ends up mumbling before hiding his face in your neck out of embarrassment.

You laugh, just barely, “S’okay…”

Aside from the heavy breathing and occasional shift of bodies, tranquility now settled into the car. For quite a while, Gojo just lays on top of you, listening to your rapid pulse calm down as the two of you take your time in catching your breaths.

Even when you both get your breathing in check, neither of you makes any attempts to move. The not-so-distant sound of the party still going on is oddly comforting paired with the warmth of Gojo’s weight on top of you. You end up running your hands through his hair soothingly and you’re sure the two of you would’ve fallen asleep just like this if not for the fact that you were laid up in the car together.

Eventually, Gojo’s the first to speak up. “This is nice y’know,” He whispers. His voice is so soft and yet hoarse at the same time. It makes your heart do that weird flipping thing again.

A scoff escapes your nose, “Yeah, we should do this more often…” You utter jokingly.

You then feel his smile quirk against your skin. “Do what? Ditch parties to fuck in my car?” He taunts breathily.

Rolling your eyes at him, this time not of pleasure, “Not exactly, no. I think I was talking about this—the cuddling…” You say to clarify as your fingers come to a halt between his hair.

“Ohhhh,” Gojo hums, lifting his head slightly, “Y-Yeah, of course, I knew that!” He laughs, slightly nervous. “But, yeah. We should do this more often. You smell good.”

“Do I?” You ask, lips twitching into a soft smile.

Gojo buried his head right back into the crook of your neck, inhaling dramatically before exhaling heavily. “Mhmmm,” He mumbles, nuzzling into your warmth. “And you’re sooo warm… everywhere.”

It’s then that you realize he’s yet to pull out of you, softened cock resting so snuggly inside the depths of your cunt, and the mess between the two of you yet to be cleaned. There was surely a ring of filth down in between your sandwiched bodies but aside from that, you were too content in the moment to bat a single eye at it.

Your hands drift down to Gojo’s neck, thumbs grazing his jawline and signaling him to lift. To which Gojo’s head raises on que and his eyes steadily flit to yours. You don’t even have to ask for what you want because Gojo’s sighing and gradually pushing his lips onto yours.

The connection is smooth like silk, almost as if Gojo’s lips rightfully belong against yours. They then part and it’s practically loving the way your tongues intertwine in a sweet symphony as a mutual hum leaves your throats. Lust is nearly forgotten for a moment and your heart is fluttering as he shifts against you—fingertips dancing up and down your body tenderly just as he pries away from your mouth to suckle your lower lip into his mouth.

His eyes crack open only to watch the way your lip falls back into place as he releases it, a sigh falling from him and landing right against your wettened skin. 

Gojo’s pupils dilate for a moment and his breath hitches within his throat. He’s not sure what came over him but… “God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” He breathes out without a second thought.

Catching you entirely off guard, your face flushes at the sudden compliment. “Thank you,” You end up fumbling out delicately. Then your hands carry over to his face and your palms meet his cheeks, “So are you, ‘Toru.” 

This is way too damn intimate for two people who have ‘no feelings’ for one another, isn’t it? Questions aside, you find your thumbs slipping against the skin below his eyes, and you grinning before you even realize it.

“Handsome too,” You utter, visibly catching him off guard.

Gojo’s lips part again and this time there’s this deep throb in his chest. His whole expression softens beyond belief and whatever confident facade he’d been putting on, cracks before your very eyes. “Oh,” He suspires in pure awe, “Warn me before you just…” His words trail and his face comes down a bit, forehead meeting yours at rest, “…Compliment me like that. But, thank you.”

The two of you shut your eyes for a while longer to let this moment truly sink in. It’s almost like you were high on something—everything felt… like bliss.

You weren’t complaining or anything but fuck this was weird. You didn’t feel this after you slept with Choso. Maybe your best friend had a point, maybe you do have deeper feelings for Gojo than you realized. And hey, you know you had a crush on the guy but damn, do all crushes feel like this??

If liking Gojo makes you feel like you’re high then you don’t think you ever wanna come down. And to top that off, you’re pretty sure he feels the same. Or, he’s feeling the same thing you are right now, anyway. 

You’re too scared to ask that though, it’d probably ruin the moment entirely. Especially if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings and this whole thing turns out to be some weird post-orgasm thing…

All that completely aside, you definitely want more. Unlike your time spent with Choso, you don’t regret or feel guilt at all right now. You’d repeat the day you’ve had over and over again if it meant Gojo would be in your arms like this by the end of it. 

Your grin stretches into a smile and you unexpectedly chuckle at yourself, causing Gojo to open his eyes and look at you. “What?” He hushes out in a curious tone.

You shake your head, “Nothing, I just… It’s like you said, this is nice.”

He lets out this small grumble before moving to kiss your cheek. “I warned you I’m a clingy drunk…” 

This time you giggle, “Oh please, you sobered up a while ago.”

You got him there… “Whatever, that’s still what brought us to this point,” He huffs off.

“It’s okay to admit you’re a clingy person in general.” As you say that, Gojo grimaces at the truth behind such a statement. He was hoping he’d go a little while longer without you realizing.

But, since you’ve caught him red-handed, he’s got no choice other than to shrug and accept defeat. “Fine, fine. I’m a bit of a clingy person. But… That doesn’t bother you, does it?” He asks with a faint tilt of his head.

Now you lean up and peck his lips, whispering a glacé, “Not at all.”

Again, this is really fuckin’ intimate for two people who have ‘no feelings’ for one another—this being a thought shared subconsciously between the both of you as he snickers and you smile. 

Breaking all that sappy shit for a moment, you end up yawning almost obnoxiously. Which leads Gojo to a laugh. “You tired?” He asks.

“Clearly,” You reply in between another yawn.

“Want me to drop you off at your place or…” Hesitating, Gojo has to trail his gaze elsewhere to finish the rest of his statement. “Or uhm, do you wanna spend the night at my place?”

You’re taken by slight surprise by his sudden offer and although you’re fatigued, your eyes light up a little. “Your place sounds fun.”

“Yeah?” He beams, leaning up from you slowly.

The last thing he received from you was a sleepy nod of your head. After which, Gojo rushed around his car to get the two of you all cleaned up and somewhat decent. He’d tried to get you to put some of your clothes back on but you complained about it being too tight and ended up wearing nothing but the hoodie you’d worn earlier that day before you’d gone costume shopping.

After that, it didn’t take long for you to find yourself deep in your slumber while seated in the passenger seat & Gojo was quick to get everything else situated.

Just before he pulled off, he’d given your resting expression a long stare and his mouth moved to say something but even he was unsure of what. Once his senses returned to him, he redirected his focus onto getting the two of you to his home safely.

It’d be your first time spending the night there so he was admittedly a little nervous. But, what really struck his heart was how much you trusted him. He’d make note to value that from you, deeply.

That day was something to remember.

mlist | last chapter | next chapter |

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