#But when you go through the worst pain of your life

[atalldrinkofcaprisun]

Don’t Wait For Me After I’m Gone (pt. 2)

silco x gn!reader - he didn’t die AU - tw: canon compliant violence, drug use - 18+

howdy!!! reposted and edited again! I’m having trouble with all of the links so sorry they’re not super functional right now. But anyways, I MISS MY WIFE TAILS!!

also on ao3 xx masterlist

The screaming was the worst part. You had been posted outside of The Doctor’s underground laboratory/cave for three hours now, under the orders not to enter unless you wanted to be sedated until the procedure was over.

When the Scientist arrived at the factory, he had started work immediately. The bullets nimbly extracted and quickly stitched, his hand feebly squeezing your own when he could. You had pressed kisses to his damp temples and pushed hair out of his face, back into his rumpled style. He’d even notice sometimes but it was clear he was in agony.

“It is good you kept that with you,” The Doctor nodded his head towards the injector lying cracked on the floor towards the far wall. You had thrown it off as soon as it had emptied, “He would have been unreachable if you had not administered the medicinal serum. It gave him just enough to hold on.”

“So, he’s going to be okay?” You asked, trying to give that little flame of hope in your chest something to fuel itself.

“He will survive, yes. Survival at least.” the bandaged man replied cryptically before returning his full attention to Silco, “I suggest making plans to move him to safety. Your opponents will be hunting for you soon if they haven’t started already.” He’d put a hand on your shoulder, “I know where they will not find you.”

Shortly afterwards, you had sprinted all the way back to The Last Drop. Exhausted and shaking, you’d only managed a stammering, “Silco. He’s- the warehouse…” before promptly passing out into Ran’s arms. You’d woken up in your bed, apparently you had only been out about 20 minutes.

Now, here you stood, arms crossed and leaning against a rough stone wall. Your nails dug into your skin, trying to center yourself. You couldn’t leave, not when he was in pain. Jinx had been permitted in. Whatever had transpired between Jinx and The Doctor had created a new trust. You had wanted to protest but when Jinx set Silco down on the examination table and sat quietly in a chair in the corner, her eyes not moving from Silco, you had surrendered. Jinx needed to know her father wasn’t going to be one more thing to haunt her. You could keep watch this time.

Sevika was elsewhere getting her arm fixed once again, and keeping all of the intelligence open for signs of what had been happening in Piltover. She’d headed back to The Drop. Running Zaun directly or alone had never been something you wanted. Especially now, with the love of your life still in danger of being lost forever, and your child being the cause on top of whatever had been done to her-

There came another string of rambles, ranging from terror to agony to anger. Occasionally you would hear The Doctor muttering. You could feel the wave of emotions settle between your shoulders, winding up the muscles like snakes tensing to bite. You needed a distraction.

Threats were going to be coming from all sides. Jinx had officially crossed the carefully toed line of impertinent interference that Silco had perfected. You didn’t know what the aftermath of the missile had been, and it didn’t take a genius to guess. A part of you didn’t care. Fuck the Topsiders for needing to be brought to the battlefield. Still, you couldn’t ignore the stiffness setting in your arms and neck, your hands clenched into fists as tears began to resurface.

Another moan of pain, this one low and mournful… your name again. You covered your ears and tried to fight the urge to bust through the door.

Fuck it. You’d rather be sedated then hear one more second of this without being able to help. Hands flew to the door handle of their own accord, but were met with the empty air as the door opened first.

Jinx’s pink eyes bore into your own, flat, “Doc say you can come in. Apparently he’s though the worst. Dad’ll- be okay.” She sounded completely drained.

You gathered Jinx in a tight hug, wanting to offer any sort of comfort you could, “He’s going to understand. We’ve been so worried about you, Blue.”

“I killed him.” She mumbled into your shoulder, “I almost-”

“But you didn’t,” you pulled back to look in her eyes, your hands pushing her bangs off of her forehead to finally get a good look. She was so pale now, worse than before, almost spectral. Her freckles and dark makeup only making her appear more sickly, she was smeared with dirt and blood and crusted tears. Her eyes weren’t glowing anymore, but their pale blue had been consumed by the eery magenta of Shimmer. “He knows how much you’re struggling. He isn’t dead. It was an accident. He knows that.”

Jinx didn’t look convinced, only lifting your arms off of her and pushing past into the fissures beyond, “I just need to be alone.“ She turned before she crossed behind the faint lantern glow, “You know where to find me,” and then she was gone.

You waited, letting the compulsion to run after her and comfort her dissolve for a later time. If anything would be able to get through to Jinx it would be Silco himself. In order for him to get the chance, however, you needed to make sure Silco would stay alive. Jinx was smart, and knew when and how to lay low. She would be alright for a few hours. With a deep breath and you headed into the attached cavern.

“Doctor, Is he-“ your gaze mimed fixated on the disheveled and miserable man strapped to the gurney. At the sound of your voice Silco’s eyes landed on you, relief washing over his expression the moment he processed what he was seeing. “Thank Jannah, Sil,” you sighed, stepping and crossing the space. Your hand fell into his, fitting perfectly into his palm, warm and alive and responsive. With a smile you took your free hand and pushed the strands of charcoal and ash hair out of his face, “Hey there, handsome.” You beamed.

The once bright orange iris, now matching his daughter’s pink hue, was scanning along your features, relief washing over the face you had come to love more than you had ever thought possible. His pale blue eye was just as intently looking at you, but his eyelid hung heavy with exhaustion, “What’s a creature like you,” his voice was strained and low, rumbling out of his chest more than his throat, “doing in a place like this?”

Your mind played the first time he had said that to you as you grinned, “That line is still too cheesy to work.”

“Better than the look you gave me when I said it then.” He hummed as your hand moved from his hair to brush his cheek, “Did I ever tell you it was Jinx’s idea?”

“To try and hit on me after saving my life or?” You laughed lightly.

“To tell you,” he wheezed for a second as a flare of purple raced up his skin and into his damaged iris, “ah, how pretty you looked.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and the pain seemed to become just a little less.

“So you settled on calling me a creature?” You scoffed teasingly.

“Is now the time for such, frivolous things?” The Doctor’s tone was annoyed as he cut in. He started undoing the straps holding Silco down, and he motioned for you to help him.

You looked at the scientist with one brow raised as Silco sighed, “I’ve nearly died today. It makes a man think about things… differently,” his gaze didn’t move from your face, like he was studying it for the first time. You were used to his staring habit, but this felt different. Maybe it was the drugs, “so beautiful,” he muttered so low, he probably hadn’t even noticed he’d said it.

“Shut up, old man,” you smiled, “Save your breath.”

The Doctor moved to your side of the table, batting you away as he began to unstrap his arm and head. Which was only fair since you hadn’t even started to undo the buckle. Your hand slipped away from Silco’s and you immediately missed the feeling. The anxiety that boiled in your stomach was vicious and your skin seemed to itch with the need to continue to make sure Silco was truly alive and real, on the mend and going to survive. Once the kingpin was free, the Doctor took his pulse, then gently helped him rise to a sitting position. His face contorted with the pain but eased as he breathed through it. At last, Doc looked towards you and nodded, giving his permission, you could fully take in your paramour.

Silco’s left arm was protectively hugged around his bandage wrapped torso, his smoldering eye still pulsing pink as was it’s seafoam counterpart. His hair was haphazard and his makeup smeared away long ago, the ashen skin of his scar visible in large smudges. You wrapped your arms around him as gently as you could manage, still causing him to hiss ever so slightly. His heartbeat thumped away under your ear, protected in his rib cage, fast and a little irregular. His smell was tainted with blood and sweat but it was still him. His free arm pulled you closer, his nose resting on top of your head. Together you breathed. Just for a moment that to you, felt like the exact eternity you needed to find your voice.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

He chuckled deep in his chest, “I promise to try and not make it a habit, my lovely.”

You only burrowed further into his arms in reply. Your home was here. Safely by Silco’s side, in his arms, breathing and basking in the gift of having more time. Just as the tension had begun to ease from your shoulders Silco spoke again, “Where is Jinx? Is she alright?”

You met his gaze, “She’s… upset. She didn’t mean to kill you. I think she’s headed back to her lab. I wanted to go with her but…”

“But you needed to make sure I would be alright first.” He gently finished and ran a hand through your hair, “Thank you for saving me. Now we’re officially even.” He let his fingertips stroke your cheek, “We need to get to Jinx. I need to tell her I forgive her.”

“You won’t be able to walk on your own yet, old friend.” The Doctor spoke up again from his desk across the room, apparently he had returned to his more important projects, “Your body is still processing the serum. You don’t have your daughter’s vitality.”

Silco frowned over at the old scientist, “I think I can manage. And anyways,” he looked down at you, “I won’t be alone.”

You nodded, and stepped out of his embrace to help him down and onto his feet. As he touched the stone floor however, his legs seemed to buckle and he fell onto you heavily with a grunt of pain. You caught him and let him get his grip on the edge of the gurney. His teeth grinding as he pulled himself upwards, “Sil? Are you-?”

“It’s fine.” The ever stubborn Eye of Zaun commanded. The Doctor and you shared a quick look.

You knew he was lying but he had more pressing concerns than his own comfort at the moment, “Can you?” he gestured vaguely around himself. Asking for help was still not something he was completely comfortable with, but you knew what he meant.

You shifted around him, so one of your arms was around his midsection, the other was holding his hand as his own arm swept over your shoulders. Jinx’s Lab and The Last Drop were a bit of a walk away. The Doctor, grumbling all the while, retrieved a cane from some depths of his caverns and gave you what doses Silco might need if he took a sudden turn. With measured steps you began to lead Silco to the door. Just before you crossed the threshold, Silco tugged and stopped, “Thank you, Doctor. My family owes you a great debt.”

A stiff and matter of fact “I know.” was the only reply he received.

Silco pressed a kiss to your temple and together you set off.

[dark-moonlust]

Unmasking Desire

Commission October 2024 for anon!! This has so much sass, enemies-to-lovers vibes and smut!

Pairing: male Fae (Eli Thorn) x fem Vampire (Mara Sinclair)

Summary: a female vampire named Mara and a male fae named Eli are professors at the same university. They have been rivals since they met but they’ve been assigned to work on something together by the head of their department. Despite their attempts to get out of it, they agree to meet up to get the project done. Emotions are unleashed, their desire unmasked.

Warnings: 18+, oral (fem+male) foreplay, p in v sex, overstimulation, in public but magic keeps it private and no one finds them, many orgasms (fem), size kink, dirty talk, big fae🍆, lots of 💦.

Copyright @ 2024 by Kate Hart This commission is owned by Kate Hart. As the original writer, I strictly forbid any form of reproduction, replication, or translation of my stories without my explicit consent. This is a commissioned short story and will be posted on the author’s sites for others to enjoy.

Late evening found Mara sitting in the back corner of the library, her legs crossed, drumming her dark-red nails against the leather arm of the velvet sofa. It was a quiet Saturday, no one was around. The library was open for her convenience. Moonlight filtered through the tall, narrow windows, sending faint shadows across the room. Silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face but her lips were twisted, a frown on her features.

She didn’t like waiting—especially when it was for him.

Professor Eli Thorn.

He was the last damn male in existence she would have chosen to cooperate with.

The project.

It was the worst duty she'd ever been given. Runes and magical artifacts from the Lost Ages. The words of the chief department still rang out in her mind. He had handed in this assignment at them with a single directive: "You two are some of our best minds and I'll expect you to work together, whatever your personal differences. Your research will provide remarkable intel for our university.”

Of all the damn people she had to cooperate with him.

Of course, Mara had tried to wriggle her way out of the assignment no matter how great. But the head of their department had been firm. Mara was busy enough already and working with Professor Thorn was going to be a pain in the butt. He grated on her nerves. He was a silver-tongued devil who thrived in finding ways to pry into her carefully guarded life, somehow invading every hour of her day with his maddening charisma.

Mara had watched him glide through lectures with ease, the students and fellow professors eating out of his hand, captivated by his calm, dark voice. Yet for some strange reason, Professor Eli Thorn decided to focus all of that energy on her. No matter what assignment she chose, no matter how tough her research, he always managed to find a way into her orbit, arranging things so he could poke her logic.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention. Her gaze sharpened as the door finally opened, the subject of her thoughts entering with that cocky, unconcerned strut that made her bite her lips and shift uncomfortably in her seat. Damn it… there it went again, that unnecessary attraction she felt every time she saw the irritating fae.

Tall and well-built, he strolled in the room, looking damn fine in a dark, brown vest over a crisp, white shirt, its sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, lean forearms tattooed with runes—signs of the ancient fae magic he possessed. His hands were also inked and full of veins, his fingers long and deft. He wore a single accessory: a silver ring set with a black opal, a powerful heirloom from his ancestors.

His face was sharply defined, clean shaven and as if crafted by an artist with an aristocratic jawline, slightly pointy ears, high cheekbones, a smirking mouth and chocolate dark skin. Eyes the color of deep green settled on her with a knowing glance. His lashes were long, his hair as black as midnight, falling to just below his jaw. Mara had noticed— completely randomly— that he often brushed it back when lost in thought or just in casual charm.

Why had that unimportant detail entered her mind again?

Clearing her throat, she returned his gaze boldly. “You are late, Professor Thorn.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he sat down irritatingly beside her on the sofa. “Missed me, Mara?”

“You keep calling me by my name when I’ve never given you leave to do so.”

“I know that deep down you just love it.”

Her jaw tightened. “I prefer it when people keep the professional boundaries.”

He didn’t reply and gazed at her silently, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe, taking in her cold, almost regal stance. He lingered just a touch too long over her figure, noticed the way she tightened her thighs and he cursed himself for it. She was a creature of precision and discipline, yet at the same time, a living temptation, a dangerous mystery.

Yes, Eli thought silently, the vampiress was a vision, sitting there in a demure dark red dress that hid most of her smooth porcelain-pale skin. Yet, somehow, it managed to make her appear even more luscious, driving him mad with longing. She was tall, with generous curves and magnificent silver hair that fell in thick curls down her shoulders, reaching past her waist. Her hair was truly captivating, framing her face like a halo, emphasizing her striking blood-red eyes and lips— full bow-shaped lips, hiding her fanged teeth.

Eli had never met anyone like her. She was all prim, razor-edged disapproval and looked at him as if he were beneath her as if she'd rather drive a stake through his heart than spend another moment with him. But she also tugged at something deeper inside him, something darker within. There was a fire beneath that graceful pride of hers and he could sense it shimmering, scent her desire.

And the more he sensed that heat, the more he wanted to expose it—to shatter her walls, lay her bare, breathless and powerless, beneath, above him, in every position possible, every part of her entangled with him.

Bloody hell… he doubted he could complete the assignment after all. His defenses were crumbling. His patience snapping.

Eli swallowed back his innate craving and forced himself to focus.

"So," he said, breaking the tense silence between them. "How do you propose we divide the work, then?”

“I suggest we work separately and discuss only when necessary. I prefer my partners silent and obedient.”

Eli lounged back in his seat, his legs outstretching, arms nonchalantly folded across his chest. "Silent and obedient? Oh, Mara…" he drawled, allowing her name to slide off his lips. "It’s such a shame. I was never any good at obeying."

“Which, frankly, makes me question why I'm stuck with you.”

“Oh, poor you. But go ahead, sweetheart. Try pretending you don't want me here.”

“Enough with the useless talk. This project takes dedication and competence, I don’t want it to take forever, can we begin please?”

He grinned and stretched out with a leisurely look, obviously taking his time. "You know, judging by the fire in your eyes, it as if you wish you could make me disappear into thin air."

Eli saw her smile. Her lips curved, just a little, cute fangs peeking —and damn it, she was lovely.

“Was that a smile?” He leaned forward, his scent taunting her senses. “Pretty. Do it again.”

“Do you really think you're going to get to me with this nonsense?” she murmured, turning open her notebook in an attempt to avoid him.

He laughed. “How you wound me.”

She slammed her notebook shut and sighed. "If only.”

Another low husky laugh while he brushed his hair back and Mara couldn’t help but follow that motion. Warmth pooled in her belly and she flung herself up, quickly widening the gap between them. She hated him and his commanding, alluring energy that prickled her flesh.

No, she thought. Professor Eli Thorn was distracting and irritating. Nothing more.

Mara approached the tall bookcases but before she could grab a book, he was there, his chest pressing against her. Her notebook dropped to the floor and she clutched the bookshelf as she felt every line of his muscular chest against her back, his orangy musky scent surrounding her. He tantalized her senses, made her body tinkle in heat, liquid warmth trickling from her pussy. And yet she didn’t pull away.

“What are you— we are supposed to be looking over texts—ancient runes—”

“Hmmm,” he interrupted huskily. “It’s a project that will take a lot of work and cooperation.”

“Your games, Professor Thorne are pointless.”

“Tell me, Mara—do I get under your skin as much as you get under mine?” he drawled, his warm breath tricking her ear. He was at the end of his tether. Fuck patience. Fuck everything.

“I repeat, your games are pointless.”

“Liar.”

In a swift motion, he turned her over, his hard chest squeezing against her breasts and pressing her back against the shelves. Strong arms encircled her as she gasped and placed her palms into his chest, splaying her fingers wide to feel his muscles contract. Damn, he felt so good, so hard and unyielding, his scent wrapping around her.

“Yes, you are a liar,” he repeated, his voice husky, “you keep biting your lips, rubbing your thighs together.” He leaned down, his smirking lips inches from her own. “I can scent you, my naughty little vampiress. Your pussy must be soaked. Must be feeling so sore and needy down there, hm?”

“Is it amusing, Professor Thorne?” Mara’s voice was smooth but there was tension in her crimson eyes. “Treating me like this?”

“Amusing? Oh, absolutely.” His hands reached out, fingers burying in her silky hair. “I mean, how often do I get to see the perfect Mara Sinclair looking like she’s about to snap?“

"Release me. You're insufferable."

Mara struggled but didn’t use the full force of her strength. She could have him off of her in a few lethal movements, but she didn’t want to. She liked him exactly where he was. And he obviously liked it, too. He didn’t budge and chuckled low and deeply which both frustrated and left her breathless.

"And you enjoy every second of it, don't you? Go ahead, confess it. You pretend to hate me but you want me,” he drawled, pressing the head of his erection against her belly. “Gods, you drive me mad. I’ve wanted you ever since I looked at you.”

“If you think I’ll be drawn by your juvenile attempts at flirting, think again.“

“Oh, but you’re calling this flirting. And you know what? I believe there is a part of you that appreciates how I make you feel something other than perfect, something real."

Mara opened her mouth to reply only to have her breath shallowed by his mouth. His lips brushed against hers, tasted her before coaxing the seam apart and plunging inside. He growled at her taste, pinning her hands on either side of her head, his body pressing down on hers, his cock hard and pulsing. Nearly melting against him, Mara gave him her mouth, freely, opening at his invasion, their breaths and moans mingling. 

Eli broke apart the kiss for a second, marveling at her kiss-swollen lips. “All you have to do is let go for once.”

“So that you can break me?" Mara replied, half-dazed by the kiss.

His grin grew nasty, his green eyes flaring with something predatory. "Never. I’ll let you break me apart, sweetheart, do whatever you want with me.”

And then he was kissing her again, this time devouring her lips and letting his tongue taste her mouth. Mara felt her knees go weak and tried to pry her hands free. After a few tugs, he set her free and she hungrily roamed her hands over his body, touching his broad back, feeling up the muscles of his chest and shoulders. 

“Damn, Mara,” he groaned and gave a sharp thrust against her clothed belly. “It fucking hurts— hurts to be so hard for you.”

“Eli…” she whispered as she let her barriers fall, the carefully formed shields she had created collapsing under his touch.

“Finally, you called me by my name.”

His gaze met hers and she felt herself falling into the passionate green of his eyes, the desire simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to swallow them both. The line between desire and restraint snapped— it no longer mattered.

She was done hiding her emotions for him.

Done playing.

This one’s a bit longer than usual, so if you’re up for the full read, it’s available for free over on Patreοn. It’s open to everyone—come by and enjoy!

[osakhee]

pretty boy, sub!anton x reader

! mommy kink, some pet names, slight dacryphilia

all you did was complimenting him, yet it made anton's mind spiral into something that couldn't be stopped. it was a much innocent comment, you admired how beautiful he is. deep down you knew the blush on anton's cheeks would be more than just him being shy over the praises.

you went shopping with anton in the afternoon like a normal day-off, you both love fashion very much and showing each other the worst piece of clothe you could find might be one of your favorite activity. it always ends up with a lot of laughers and great memories, and you really treasure these times with him.

you showed anton a wide tank top once inside one of the stores and hurried him to try it on. your boyfriend is always shy about showing himself but you know the shirt would look so good on him, displaying his muscular arms from lots of swimming practices and workouts. when he went out of the changing rooms, you couldn't stop the words coming from your mouth.

"you're such a pretty boy in that."

you had a bright smile but anton immediately turned red, the faint blush creeping from his cheeks and up his ears. he ended up buying the top and you made your way out of the store together. it sounded like the start of a good time for you, impatient to go through more clothes in the mall, but anton got significantly quiet. he held your arm in his hand and walked behind you, discomfort painted on his face.

it's only when you reached your next spot that you caught on anton's change of behavior. you were looking through sweaters when you feel your boyfriend's arms surround your waist and his face nested in your neck. it was all warm and lovely until you felt how he pressed his hips into your ass, grinding on you the pretty obvious bulge in his pants. he sighed on your skin, almost breathless.

"can we please go home..."

the travel back home was really silent, anton holding on your hand for dear life as if you would disappear if he ever let go. you walked in front, dragged him around the streets to finally reach your shared apartment. your boyfriend gave you a relieved smile when you closed the door behind you, his hand naturally finding its place on the painful tent into his jeans. you pushed his hand away earning a whine from him.

"anton go to the bedroom. get ready for me, and wear the new top. can you do that baby?"

anton's mind went rushing with thoughts at your words, he got rid of his shoes quickly and disappeared in the corridor. you took your time, put away your coat and shoes, organized a little anton's things that he dropped on the floor the second he got inside your home. soon enough it was time for you to take care of your pretty boy.

you make your way to the bedroom, the anticipation building inside your chest. you know anton will be waiting for you, he's always so obedient to your every word. you push the door that's half opened and your breath catch in your throat at the view in front of you. anton is already naked, the brand new tank top going up his chest to show his toned stomach, his legs parted for you to see his hard cock that stands proudly between his thighs. you watch the transparent fluid of his precum dripping silently on his lower stomach and his muscles tense at each breath.

anton looks up to you and only whine, his eyes blurry and needy, he barely can hold it anymore. you walk up to him and sit by his side on the bed, his eyes are fixated on you and never leave you, not even when your hand makes its way down his chest.

"so that's what happened... got all worked up by my praises, right pretty boy?"

"p-please... mommy please i can't-"

"can't hold it? i know you can baby, just a little more. be good for me, hm?"

"yes mommy..."

the way he looks at you with big puppy eyes, his pink lip stuck between his teeth make you want to give in immediately. anton is wrapped around your finger, always answering to any command, on his knees for you to overpower him in all the way you want. outside the bedroom, he's still shy yet he likes to be a little more protective over you. but once the door is closed, he wants nothing but to be laying in your arms while you take care of him.

your hand reaches his thighs and you watch his cock twitch, anton grips the sheets and hold back a moan with difficulty. he needs you so badly but he never wants to disobey or do something that's against your words. you told him to try a little harder? then he'll make sure not to cum until you tell him to.

you wrap your hand around his shaft, giving a slow pump to his hard cock and this time anton can't help but whimper, his head falling back. with your free hand, you gently grab his jaw and make him to look at you. anton's chest already heaves messily, the faint muscle line on his stomach tense and the forced eye contact has him falling apart. he tries to get closer, he wants more of your touch and your lips that he craves so much but you push him back in place. "not yet", it's all that falls from your lips and you see your boyfriend take a deep breath when your hand start working on his throbbing length again.

your thumb pushes a little on the slit, your hand wraps around his tip as it draws more precum from it. the wet sensation is perfect for you to keep jerking him off, your hand easily moving on his cock. you take your time to focus on every part of him, you feel each veins under your fingers and graze your nails on the pink and sensitive head of his dick.

anton is just a mess. his voice usually soft and quiet keeps getting louder, his moans turn into cries as the pleasure courses through his body and making his head spin. he loves it when you take things slowly, he feels so appreciated, loved and cared, but today he's very much sensitive and ever more than that, he's terribly needy. shaky fingers catch your wrist and you look back at anton, it always stings your heart when you see him cry, but the tears that roll silently down his cheeks make his eyes shine even more in the dim light, he's just so beautiful to you.

"baby what's wrong? tell me."

"i-i need you... need you s-so much..."

you just wanted to hear his voice that breaks at each word and drips with lust, you already know how much anton wants you. you can feel his cock throb in your palm. your attention focuses back on his dick and your hand works a little faster, going from the base to the head of his large length to make sure he's being touched everywhere.

slowly, you lift the new tank top anton bought to reveal his chest, and attach your lips to his skin. to spend some time on his sensitive stomach, covering it with kisses while your finger draw soothing circles on the skin of his waist. you drag your mouth further up until you can roll your tongue on his nipple, your face pressing into the clothe.

anton's hips buck up into your hand more and more while you suck on the sensitive bud. his voice got quieter again, he babbles incoherent words and whimpers your name. your lips abandon his reddening nipple and you reach for his chin to make him kiss you, a slow and gentle kiss he can't even reply to as much as he wants. his breath is so ragged you can feel his lips shaking against yours. you wipe his tears away with your free hand and look at him. you both get lost in each other's eyes for a minute that seems like eternity. to you, anton is as perfect as an angel that came into your life to save it, and his beautiful face like that is only for you to see.

"you held it so well baby, such a good boy for me."

"thank y-you mommy..."

"are you close now?"

"hmhm.... so so c-close mommy please..."

"it's okay pretty boy, you can cum now."

your words are like an electric shock through anton body. you pick up the pace of your hand and give his tip more attention. your boyfriend loses himself in the pleasure he gets from you, his parted legs shaking and his whole body so tensed next to you. his hands that grip the bed find themselves around your neck, he holds you close to him, his face nuzzled on your shoulder. his cries get louder, mixed with a lot of nonsense and some words you can recognize 'thank you' and 'mommy' over and over again.

you whisper reassuring words when you feel his cock twitch, anton lets out a loud and choked sob when he cums on your hand. his hips tremble as he shoots his heavy load over your fingers and his stomach. you make sure to milk every drop he has, letting go of his cock only when his thighs stop shaking, a sign he's coming back from the heaven you sent him to.

your clean hand caresses his hair until anton's breath get more steady and calm. you kiss his head and he sits back up straight next to you, the look in his eyes being much more satisfied than before. the smile drawn on his lips make your heart feel so warm and you reach closer to kiss him, anton's hand laying on your lower back.

"thank you mommy... i love you..."

"always my pretty boy. you know i love you so much more."

you tuck a strand of anton's hair behind his ear and he shifts on the bed next to you. he gets very cuddly and sleepy whenever he cums, you invite him to lay on your chest so he can doze off while you watch him sleep so peacefully. red paints anton's face a little when he looks at you.

"i've been good so... can i please be inside of you... wanna fuck you mommy i promise i'll make you feel good..."

your smile only grows wider at his words and you push him on his back before sitting down on his lap. his already spent cock is already half hard when you grind your hips, the grip of anton's hands tight on your waist.

"we can do that. make mommy feel good."

sub anton 😔🫳🏻 i love you @antoncore this is all for you 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 thank you for the love on my works im so glad i started writing again please never hesitate to tell me what you think or send me requests i'll love to talk about it <3 wonbin is next to be posted :3

[lazyjellyfish300]

The flufftober!! The prompts are so cute omg...

You know what they say about when men having fever, they'd act like they're at the end of their life?😭

I think Atsuya would be one of those men lol. Acting like its the end and pushing us away when he's sick, because its rare for him to get sick, poor guy cant even get up to eat porridge... so... may we get that with the ended up falling asleep together, please? Thank you!

Hi Nonnie!! Thank you so much! 🥰🥰 Omg yes the man cold 😂 he so would, huh? I can definitely imagine Atsuya being one of those men lolol. This is so cute!! Thank you for requesting my love!! 💕

a sick day with atsuya

CW: XFEM!READER, FLUFF, CRACK SLIGHT SUGGESTIVE, MINORS DNI

words: 721

"Atsuya?" 

You call into your quiet apartment as you shrug out of your coat, shed your boots, and hang your keys. You got off work after a slightly concerning text from your boyfriend. Usually a sparce texter, you didn't take notice something was wrong with his one word answers until he mentioned he was home from the school already. 

"Kusa?" You try again, walking down the hall, heart racing slightly if this was some kind of sick practical joke or the worst really did happen and you were about to walk in on him dead on the floor with his tongue hanging out.

You approach the cracked door to your bedroom and push it cautiously, shoulders relaxing at the sight of your Atsuya, shirtless in his boxers, hairy chest and stomach to match in all his manly glory on display for your viewing pleasure with an arm covering his eyes, tissues, and a mangled box of NyQuil on the nightstand. 

No doubt about it, your boyfriend was on the verge of death. 

Well, at least that's what he would've lead you to believe with the inhuman groan that left his throat a moment later. 

"Jus' kill me, it'll be less painful..." He grumbles, keeping his eyes closed. 

"Oh, Kusa..." You shake your head and pout your lips sympathetically. "Baby's got the man flu?" You climb into bed next to him. 

"Not the flu, doll." He grumbles. "Baby has a disease. The godforsaken black plague. This is the same shit that killed healthy strong young men like me back in the day." 

"Ever the drama queen, my love." You kiss his stubbly jaw and he sighs a little. "Well, did you eat anything, drink water, perhaps?" You run tentative fingers carefully through his spiky dark tresses, taking note of his increased temperature. 

"Nah. Didn't wanna wait for the goddamn noodles to heat up in the microwave."

"What the...Kusa! You're killing me." You shake your head. "No wonder you're knocking on death's door. We need to hydrate and get you fed immediately."

"Nnnggghhh." 

"Chop, chop, mister, no exceptions."

-----

The apartment grew warm and cozy eventually as the freshly chopped vegetables stewed in the broth alongside the boiled chicken. Atsuya sat on a stool at the counter with a blanket around his shoulders with a large glass of water and a curly straw, gazing at you like the sun stopped and started with the breath you planted in his lungs. 

Three hearty bowls of bubbling chicken noodle soup and a begrudging 32 oz of water later, color had returned to Kusakabe's face. He looked at you with weary, grateful eyes as you lay curled up next to him on the couch as your favorite show played, heart aching at the adorable sight of your cheeks and your hair squished against a pillow with your legs in his lap. 

"Thanks for saving me, cutie." 

"Mhmm, don't mention it...." You smile lazily and go back to watching, keenly aware of his hands that became a little more daring as they worked into a tantalizing massage on your thighs and hips.

"Atsuya..." You sleepily chastise him. "Thought you were too sick..." A breathy low chuckle as he leans over you, playfully nuzzling his face against yours. 

"Yeah, I'm sick, doll, not on hospice..." he purrs suggestively, brushing his lips against yours "The day I turn you down for sex, just g'head and pull the plug..." He captures your lips in a soft peck. "'Cause I'm obviously not of sound mind..." 

"Mmm...you might get lucky in the morning. I'm exhausted, sweetheart." 

"Hehe, no worries, doll..." Kusakabe lets out a yawn, laying his head on your stomach as he feels himself also being pulled rapidly under the increasing spell of sleep. 

"Haha, Atsuya Kusakabe, grade one sorcerer, is a formidable opponent against any and all curses, but let him catch a cold..." 

"Hey, now..." Kusakabe murmurs. "This doesn't leave our apartment... S'far as everyone at the school is concerned, I'm still unstoppable... I'm only weak for you..." He pauses then drowsily hums, "Don't tell Panda." 

"Mhmm...of course of course... your... *yawn* secret is safe with me, darling..." You manage to get out before you drift off to dreamland. 

"Thanks, baby..." Before he follows right after you while holding you close to his chest.

[sclfcare]

always been good at toeing the line ⎯⎯⎯ following the rules set before him like god himself might smite him should he refuse . might as well've signed his name in blood , the iron - clad contract that dictates his relationship . he doesn't get a say . it didn't feel like an insurmountable issue months before ; he was heartbroken , determined to pick himself up and continue forward , even if his so called ' moving on ' was nothing more than a public farce . now that the woman he used to so ardently believe was the love of his life is standing before him , emotion permeating between them like a thick cloud . seeing through it is nearly impossible and denver hates that he can no longer decipher fact from fiction when it comes to the elusive blonde staring up at him with those wide eyes . palm rubs at the back of his neck , muscles twitching as jaw clenches and releases . " and you know your reasons are bull shit to me , " homme retorts , restraint evident in his timbre as he attempts to reel back the intensity before even more eyes wander over to gawk . " i'm not in lo⎯⎯ , " denver pauses mid - explanation , meadow abruptly invading personal space briefly rendering him gobsmacked . her perfume is like a punch to the face . the worst part is ? he can't even touch her back , doesn't matter if he wants to or not ⎯⎯⎯ to everyone around them , he's a taken man . people know their break up was messy . attention is on them both whether he likes it or not . " meads , please ... " it's as painful as it is elating , the feeling of her arms tangling around his neck , the weight of her body hanging off his . he tentatively grips her forearms , only managing to half - heartedly shrug her off . can't follow through with pulling away entirely . heart beats so loud , the echo in his ear drums is nearly deafening . as much as he loves hearing she hasn't replaced him , all he can think of is what others might think . what they might say ... not about him , but about meadow . that's more than enough to set him straight . " not here . we can't do this here ⎯⎯ fuck . " takes a glance around , dipping his head in a half - assed attempt to conceal his feats , " can we go inside ? i'll talk to you , i'll tell you everything . just not like this . please ? "

                    can't      stand      listening      to      the      truth      seep      through      his      words      ...      knows      it's      all      her      fault      that      they      ended      the      way      that      they      did     ,      that      they      ended      at      all     .      despite      knowing      this     ,      can't      wrap      brain      around      the      fact      he's      found      someone      else     .      the      thought      alone      has      entire      body      shivering     ,      like      it's      subconsciously      trying      to      rid      her      of      knowing      it      to      begin      with     .      “      that's      ―      that's      not      fair     .      i      ...      i      had      my      reasons     ,      you      know      i      did     .      ”      timbre      softens     ,      as      if      it      could      break      at      any      moment     ,      surprised      that      it      hasn't      already     .      long      forgotten      first      loves      wasn't      a      good      enough      reason      to      break      homme's      heart     ,      though     ,      and      she      knows      it     .      as      much      as      she      tries      to      deflect     ,      she      knows      it      all     .      her      trust      issues      were      no      one's      issue      but      her      own     .      meets      his      gaze     ,      but      can't      quite      read      his      expression     ,      it's      infuriating     .      she      used      to      be      able      to      read      him      like      the      back      of      her      hand     .      “      it      matters      to      me      ...      so     ,      you're      not      in      love      with      her     ,      then      ?     ”      dares      to      near      him     ,      his      scent      bringing      a      sense      of      comfort      over      her     ,      despite      the      conversation      they      were      currently      having     .      “      why      won't      you      look      at      me      ?      like      ―      really      look      at      me     ,      and      tell      me      the      truth     .      ”      pleads     ,      palm      clasping      against      the      back      of      his      neck      ...      he      could      tell      her      to      fuck      off      if      he      really      wanted      to     ,      &      she'd      listen     .      “      you      want      me      to      be      honest       first      ?      'cause      i      can      do      that      ―      i      haven't      even      touched      anyone      else      since      you     .      and      i      ...      i      regret      what      i      did     ,      every      single      day     .      ”

[remove-the-stairs-bitch]

.

[canisonicscrewyou]

Fuck this entire week oh my fucking godddd. This felt like a little trial. Hurdles to get through the last of Busy Season for the year.

This week:

I shut down my store's entire IT system while being guided through a troubleshoot and it took ~45 minutes to fix it

Rolled + landed on my ankle on my walk to work on Halloween. Had to limp into work.

On Halloween I also had to kick out an intoxicated dude on a bike who tried to serve himself water out of a crushed, grimy to-go cup by leaning his entire body over the bar after going to the registers to ask ME for a cup of water. Left after telling me he has two no-trespassing orders from my store.

Had to hobble my way home because I had no way of getting a ride because my city closes down half the streets for Halloween.

Worked through my bruised and busted up ankle for ~3 days while another coworker called out to. Probably catch up on school work.

Nearly cried at work like. Several. Times. Partially from overwhelm and confusion and now partially from pain.

Watched my boss feel immensely bad after seeing My Ouchie and then went home. (<- only for my fiancé to come in to pick me up and then when I wasn't there, tell my boss and coworker that I should have called out today which is. Correct.)

Now I'm really just sitting with my injured leg Up High and On Ice

I got to see some fireworks, dress up as Will Graham, my coworker gave me the last of her cigarettes, and I got to post fic though so. Not all bad. I guess.

[autoneurotic]

called out at work as an astarion girlie

[fingertipsmp3]

I think one of my wisdom teeth is coming in and like. Can It Not

[cyancherub]

how did u get over ur breakup if u don’t mind me asking bc i feel like i am drowning

i do not mind beloved!!! to be honest with you i still am not over it, i think of him often and i dream of him regularly. but i am in a much better place and i genuinely DO feel happy for the majority of my days now.

it will take time but when people say that things get easier they mean it. it feels like it won't ever get better but it will and it does, i promise u! genuinely thought i could not live without that guy but hey im still kickin. u will be okay. reach out to your support system (friends, family, etc) because there are people who love you and care about you and want to be there for you. invest the love you would have been putting into that relationship into other relationships that are important to you. reconnect w people and rebuild connections that have dwindled. stay busy. do things that you enjoy & haven't had time to do bc you spent that time on the relationship. nurture yourself - eat well, get your body moving (endorphins do wonders), practice self care. you will be happy again, i promise.

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

cw: dubcon, size difference, belly bulge

Getting trapped in a dark cave had been scary enough WITHOUT the gigantic titanoboa naga staring at you from the entrance.

“Mmm…”

He slithered closer, laying flat on his belly so he could get a good look at you. His tongue flicked out, lapping at your cheek.

You were too terrified to scream or run away, so you stared up at him in terror. Though he was huge, he made no moves to crush or swallow you whole.

“How cute…”

A strange purring sound filled the cave as he flicked his forked tongue out again. His lower half rubbed against the cave ground, and two cocks sprung out of his slit.

He tilted his head, blinking before reaching out pick you up by the back of your shirt. Now, you struggled like your life depended on it.

“N-no, please don’t! Let me go!”

This was it, you were going to be devoured whole! You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the worst…

But instead of being swallowed, you felt something warm and stuck slide between your thighs, rubbing against your soft skin. The naga grunted, his body vibrating with purrs as he moved your back and forth.

When you opened your eyes, your face became hot with embarrassment as you realized the situation you were in.

He was rubbing you against one of his cocks while he pumped the other in his hand. His face was flushed, his cocks leaking precum.

“W-what are you doing!?”

You whined, one of the cocks kept pressing against your panties, his precum soaking through the thin fabric. It was almost shameful how good his cum smelled…

“Getting you ready to breed…”

Your panties were easily ripped off, the very tip of one of his cock rubbing against your hole, tiny compared to the thing he wanted to shove in you.

“Y-you can’t, it won’t fit!”

He nuzzled his head against your face. If he had been any less gentle, he may have broken your neck.

“Doesn’t have to fit…”

With that, he began pushing the very tip in, slowly thrusting it into you. You yelped at the sudden stretch, barely able to fit the tip at all in your small, fat cunt.

“C-can’t!” You blubbered, whining as he continued rubbing and thrusting against you. “Too much!”

But… as the pain began to ease, you started to feel… strange. The smell of his cum, thick and heavy in the air had your pussy drooling. You wanted it, wanted to be bred by both of his cocks.

When he flicked his tongue out to catch your scent again, he made a happy sound, his cocks twitching in excitement. His little mate was enjoying this, you were aroused!

“That’s it, little one… just take it. I’ll fill you up, don’t worry your pretty little head…”

Your belly bulged with his cum as it spurted into your womb, filling you up and making you cream all over the tip of his cock.

He seemed absolutely enamored with how round and soft you were after taking his load, curling up around you and using his soft chest you keep you comfortable.

“Oh, so precious… you’ll give me the cutest little hatchlings, won’t you?”

Earlier that day you had been exploring the jungle with some friends, and now you were mated to the mythical Titanoboa Naga…

Life sure is strange.

———————

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 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[celiime]

thinking about how satoru would be in shock when—after a year—he sees you in heaven, all pretty and youthful. thinking about how he would both hate and love for you to be there.

satoru’s death was never something that weighed lightly on your mind, it was never something that you took lightly.

think about it, your treasured husband, the one who is—used to be—the strongest, suddenly passing and leaving you behind. just how were you supposed to be okay with that?

the worst of it? you didn’t even get to prepare yourself, you allowed yourself so foolishly to think that he’s untouchable, he’s the strongest, the worst would be a scratch—maybe even an injury at most.

not death.

and god—how you missed your love, how your heart ached and wept for him everyday you rolled over onto his side of the bed, refusing to stain his pillow with tears because, in your imagination, satoru would be home soon and he would sleep soundly beside you, and he wouldn’t want your tears to wet his pillow, right?

oh, your baby.

“what are you…doing here?” finally, your husband’s voice, a melodic tone, oh so comforting to your ears—rang out, the shocked look adorning his features would’ve been enough to make you laugh if it weren’t for the tears welling up in your eyes.

it may have been a bit of a reckless move on your part, it may have been selfish, but you had enough. you needed to see him, and glimpsing him in your dreams was just not enough.

which is why, when a particularly strong curse struck you right in the chest—cutting through flesh and deep enough to cause immediate bleeding, you let it happen.

“finally…” you could only mumble as you barely held back your tears, not believing that this was finally real.

which is why, when shoko had hurried over to heal you once you were in her infirmary, you had begged her not to, you cried and cried—begged for her to let you die, to not heal you—to let you finally see your husband.

“why are you…” gojo paused, his eyes narrowing in pain at the sight of the tears in your eyes. why were you crying?

was it because you thought you’d never see his face again? the gojo infront of you was in his old jujutsu tech uniform, his youthful features the same he had when he was only seventeen, your heart warmed at the sight.

not like the last time you saw him where blood was pouring from his mouth, face contorted into something akin to resignation.

“toru…” you breathed out, trembling hands gripping the hem of your jujutsu tech uniform—the one you used to wear when you were a teen—not tattered and dirty like how it was seconds before you died.

and how gojo’s heart constricted in his chest as soon as he heard that name. they say you don’t feel sadness in heaven, where you’re supposed to be happy and compensated after all that you’ve been through.

satoru doesn’t think that’s correct, not with the way he always thought about you during the time he’s been here.

“you’re not—you’re not supposed to be here.” because as much as he missed your warm presence, he knew that you shouldn’t be here.

he was aching to pull you close, to keep you here, but you should be alive right now—not here with him, you should be living the life you deserve.

“what do you mean? this is just where I’m supposed to be.” you hummed, pink lips curving up into a small smile, feeling your nose burn with the tears you’ve been holding back.

at long last, your husband was infront of you once more.

satoru felt his knees go weak at the sight of your smile. you looked so radiant, so youthful—glowing.

you carried the looks of your teen self, in your school uniform, hair done the way you used to wear it back then. you carried no scars on that pretty face of yours, just how he had always preferred you to be, free from the injuries and scars and harm of the jujutsu world.

“you won—you won the battle—“ his voice shook, cracking at the end, those pretty eyes of his welling up with tears, “baby, you’re not supposed to be here, you’re supposed to live a happy long life—you told me you wanted to—“

your eyes widened. there he was, your husband, crying, tears leaving his eyes and dripping down his sculpted features, eyes narrowed in…disbelief? pain?

gojo satoru was crying for you, for your sake, he was coming apart so undone just for…you.

his beloved wife. his bride.

“i wanted you to—live a happy long life. i didn’t want you to die so early, you don’t deserve that—“ he felt his breath hitch, caught in his throat as his shoulders shook.

he knew that you were finally supposed to be happy in heaven, but he couldn’t fathom the thought of you dying.

a small chuckle left your lips, almost as if in disbelief of how he uttered those words out, “how was i supposed to live without you, ‘toru?” your hands reach out, gently cradling his face, eyes soft.

his chest tightened, your use of past tense—was—it all only solidified the fact that you were dead, the fact that you were here because of him.

“you should’ve lived a long life—“ his heart ached at the past tense, “you should’ve retired, and lived the life you’ve wanted. you shouldn’t have died…not after everything.”

he feels your hands around his face, soft and not calloused with scars and years of training, not like how it used to be.

it felt so comforting, so real.

he loves and hates it at the same time,

he hates it because you had always told him that you wanted to live a long life, to retire from being a sorcerer and experiencing what you didn’t get to when you chose to become a sorcerer.

you wanted to take care of yuji, megumi, and nobara; to give them the motherly love they never received.

he took that away from them—and most importantly, you.

“come on, shhh…don’t cry.” you mumbled, eyes softening as you looked up at him, feeling your breath hitch at his tears, “it’s been a year since i’ve seen you, and you greet me with tears?”a small chuckle left your lips, thumb wiping under his pretty eyes.

but he also loves it, because it’s a reminder that all the suffering is over.

“i wrote you a letter…i told you to live on without me. why do you never listen?” despite his tears, he found a small smile forming on his lips, a sense of familiarity sparking in him at your soft voice.

death was a normal part of a sorcerer’s life, satoru knew that best, yet his irrational thoughts just seemed to take over when it came to you, death should’ve never followed you.

“you seriously think it’s that easy? that i’ll be able to live normally and happy just because of a few words on paper telling me to?” you let out a small huff, thumb brushing away a stray tear under his eye.

“that letter, i ripped it.” because it signified the end, that he left them for good, and you couldn’t allow that.

a small laugh left him at your words, shaking his head fondly at your stubborn nature, he was glad his death didn’t seem to affect your feisty nature, “hey, that’s mean, yknow! I spent so much time on them!”

“yeah yeah. the kids…they kept your letters though, megumi even laughed at your little note to him.” you hummed, a fond look in your eyes as you recollected his laughter, “they miss you so much, ‘toru. i did too.”

his heart stopped in his chest—ironic how it did that when he was already dead, you really just achieve the impossible with him, don’t you?

“nothing has been the same ever since you left.”

and those words, they push him over the edge. he wastes no time in wrapping his arms snugly around your waist—where they belong—lowering his head into the crook of your neck, smelling the scent he used to go crazy over.

a small sigh left your lips as you ran a hand through his hair, feeling your neck become wet, “ah ah, no more tears. we’re supposed to finally be happy here, no?”

and you were right, what use was it crying over your death and grieving over it here? would crying bring you back to life where you deserved to be? no. besides, you were finally together again, with him only being gojo satoru here, not the strongest—never again.

“you’re right.” he cleared his throat, backing away and unwrapping his arms from around your waist, instead reaching for your hand and grasping it in his own large one, “c’mon then, i’m sure you want to see suguru. oh, haibara and nanamin too, hm?” he flashed you a small teasing grin, feeling his heart soar—he was finally with you, without any worries.

your eyes brightened. oh right, you forgot they were here too!

you excitedly tugged on his hand, “well, come on then! i have so much to tell you about what happened after you and everyone left!” even though the words tugged at your own heart, you still persisted.

he chuckled, shaking his head fondly, “yeah? good thing you have a cute voice that i like listening to, then.”

you let out a teasing scoff, before suddenly pausing, blinking once, twice, then beamed up at your husband with sincere eyes—his heart stuttered in his chest at the smile, the one that made him fall for you over and over, each and everytime.

“shoko says hello, by the way.”

you relayed her final words to you. after all, she was the one who allowed you to finally go.

it’s over. and you couldn’t be anymore happier.

just a lil smth i wrote while i couldn’t sleep in the morning hehe :pp i miss him so much u guys don’t understand. is this the same gojo and reader from his n his stupid infinity? hehe, guess we’ll never knowww…i love suspense. my favorite. also, i was going thru the tags n i saw “gojo come back” tag, ts was sad. it was so funny omg 😭😭 i miss him

[bi-writes]

ok but soulmate au with ghost but it's the fucking opposite of rainbows and sunshine. (18+)

you share his trauma. his stress. his anxiety. you do not know who he is, and yet you know the pain of a thousand punches because it's the only feeling he has ever given you. you know the grueling ache of abandonment and the terrible neglect of abuse and the disgusting amalgamation of all your worst nightmares before you even turn 20. everything that he gives you feels aggressive, like it burns, and he only ever gives you reprieve for so long until you just feel it all over again.

it makes you tired. it makes you sick. at first, as a girl, all you wanted to do was comfort him. you wanted to know who he was so you could kiss the cigarette burns that you feel and soak up the blood you know he bleeds.

but as you age, you begin to hate him. you hate him because he does this to you, he hurts you, doesn't he know that he's hurting you? doesn't he know that everything he feels, you feel tenfold, doesn't he know that the terror and the horror of everything he witnesses weighs down your chest, makes you feel like you're drowning over and over and over again?

for a few years into your adulthood, everything is quiet. you feel little except the ache in his back he never tends to, the creak of his knee joints that he refuses to stretch out. you wish you knew him so you could scold him for it, but you curse at a ghost. sometimes you think about doing something to get back at him--you think about carving a FUCK YOU into your arm, about throwing yourself in front of a bus just so he can fucking understand that his entire life is one fucked-up cycle of pain and misery and horror, but you can't bring yourself to do it.

you can't hurt him. you just can't.

and then, the real pain begins. it brings you to your knees, this pain. you scream, you wail, because it feels like you're being carved from the inside-out. your face burns. your chest heaves. you feel like your ribs are breaking, you can't breathe, you claw at the invisible wounds that your soulmate must be wearing, and you beg him to stop, you beg him to let me go--just fucking die already--please, please, please--

those weeks haunt you. the torture he endures, it is branded to you. you wear no scars, and you never lost any blood, but the phantom flesh that you know is gone follows you in your sleep and never shuts up. it talks, it snarls, it eats at your insides. even when he heals, you are never the same. you wake up from nightmares that you know you share with him. you look over your shoulder for the predators you know he has encountered, and you cry yourself to sleep over the loss of something that you can't even decipher because you have no idea who he is or what he buried to feel this way inside.

he's sick. he's twisted. he's a walking corpse, he has no redeemable qualities, he is selfish and mean and cruel, and you hate him, and if it wasn't for the pain that you would feel, the first thing you would do when you saw him is drive something right through his heart to finally stop the undying infection he spreads to everything that he touches.

you know it is him when you finally meet him. you would know him anywhere; you’d know him just by the scars alone who he is because you remember what it felt like when he got them. when you eye the sleeve of tattoos along his left arm--the fucked, shitty, sunburnt art that made it impossible for you to finish your university exams. the faded, grey circles that line the other, ones you recognize being from the burning cigarettes that you would smell when you closed your eyes. and when he removes his mask briefly, you recognize the scar that cuts above his lip and strikes through his eye--that one left you reeling on the bathroom floor particularly loudly. you thought he might be blind if it wasn't for seeing the darkness of both of his eyes.

you start to cry. you start to cry because as soon as he realizes who you are, as soon as you see that flicker of knowing flash across his eyes, all of the hatred and the anger and the poison that plagued you for all this time vanishes. everything you fought so hard to feel, all the misery you wanted to bestow upon him for making your life a living hell, it's gone.

because the universe is cruel, the universe has done what it has done, and it has made this singular person just for you, and against everything you believe, you know that you love him, and you hate yourself for it, and you hate the universe, too.

you have endured. but maybe you endured so he didn't have to. maybe you endured so that he could have this, the feeling that he feels right now, that feeling of sudden relief.

he slides a large hand over his chest, flinching slightly. he blinks, understanding suddenly that he's feeling your joy, your elation. when you shuffle your way over to him, breaching the conversation the men around him are having, you ignore their confused stares as you fling yourself into his chest.

ghost forces you against him, trapping you to him. he practically chokes, tangling a gloved hand into your hair, and you sob into the warm skin of his neck as he hoists you into his arms, into his lap. you don't pay attention to the curious voices around you, you just bury yourself into him and cry. his body is the evidence of all that has happened to him, and you aren't angry anymore because you're relieved.

he's real. he's alive. he's here. he's okay.

when you pull back to look up at him, you blink away the tears that are falling fast down your face. he stares down equally as intensely, drinking in the sight of those big, wet eyes. when he smooths a big hand down your face, he grumbles when he realizes what you are, how you know him.

he never realized this was what he and his soulmate shared. you in your life had never felt pain like he had--he had no idea what he was doing to you. he had no idea what you were surviving at the same time.

he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours, and your lips tremble as you cup his cheeks and hold him close.

it feels wrong to feel this kind of comfort, but he does anyways. he thinks, maybe, that perhaps the only reason he survived was because of you.

because there was someone else, far away, that loved him enough to keep him breathing. even when he thought it was over.

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[tgcg]

an open fly walking

i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now

TG: hey karkat

CG: YEAH?

===

TG: you ever noticed you like

TG: walk weird

CG: WOW, OKAY.

CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?

TG: pff

===

TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity

TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but

TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man

CG: I DO???

TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault

TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale

TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity

TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it

CG: SERIOUSLY?

===

TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but

TG: yeah

CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.

TG: im not fucking with you striders honor

TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything

CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.

CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.

TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me

CG: ON IT.

===

===

TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude

CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.

TG: dont your feet ache

===

CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.

TG: damn i didnt think that through

TG: my shades

CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.

TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with

TG: ugh

===

TG: guess its karma

CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?

TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor

TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing

TG: just conjecture i mean

CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.

TG: yeah probably

CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.

===

TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets

TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot

CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.

CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.

CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".

TG: well look at it this way

TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass

TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol

CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.

===

TG: also screw this can i use your shirt

TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up

TG: i cant see dick

CG: UH

CG: SURE, I GUESS.

TG: cool

===

TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right

TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night

CG: YEAH.

CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.

CG: BUT

CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.

TG: see yeah i sound it off and

===

TG: wait really?

CG: YEAH

CG: I DON'T KNOW

CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.

===

CG: IT'S LIKE

CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.

CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.

TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing

CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.

TG: you think thatd be heroic or just

CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.

CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?

TG: hah

===

TG: but uh

TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth

CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.

CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.

TG: oh

CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.

===

TG: heh

TG: well get this

TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free

TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues

TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time

TG: take that and some of this

TG: im packin punches

CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!

CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.

CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.

CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.

TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here

===

CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?

TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given

TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool

CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.