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#Do more of the things that make you feel alive
darnell-la · 3 days
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𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧
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pairing: old man!logan howlett x young female!reader
warnings: staring, rude people in public, Logan with no emotion, begging, oral (male receiving), riding, doggy, neck kisses, slightly forced cream pie, multiple orgasm, moans from both sides, very rough sex, angry animalistic Logan, etc.
request: Hi! I love your work, Could I request Oldman!Logan x young fem!reader (22 years) that has a baby fever and really wants to have Logan's baby (also to shut the mouths of those who make fun of her dating an older man), she decides to prepare a surprise for him so that he can get her pregnant soon. Reader is needy and Logan is rude.
note: Logan as always is mean and an over-thinker, but he can’t seem to not give what his perfect girl wants. A breeding session.
teaser - Logan gets kinda subby in here. can’t stop cumming…
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How do you guys feel about an X-Men story with the reader? Logan is rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!
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“Stop gettin’ in your feelings, Bub. They ain’t gon stop,” Logan said, talking about the people looking their way in the expensive restaurant Logan decided to take y/n out at.
“But, isn’t it rude? Why do they care so much about who I’m with? Or who you’re with!?” Y/n tried whispering and keeping her facial expressions normal. She didn’t want them to know she was bothered, but it wasn’t hard to see.
“Just relax, Bub — Ain’t nun gon happen with a few eyes lookin’ attcha,” Logan had picked up the menu to continue searching through what he wanted to order for himself and his girl.
“Are you two ready, or shall you get more time?” The man asked in an accent that made Logan roll his eyes. “Just appetizers for now. Gonna get the cheese bites with a side of marinara sauce, and two Caesar salads,”
“And drinks?” The waiter asked as he looked at y/n, wanting to hear the young lady talk as he was done listening to the older grumpy man.
“I’ll have a whiskey, no ice, and she’ll have water for now,” Logan ordered for her, eyes still on the menu as y/n faked a bright smile on her face so at least one of them looked like they wanted to be here.
“Are you sure that’s all you want? We have a lot of cocktails. Even mocktails if you’re not feeling alcohol going lady,” Logan laughed at the small sign the water gave. They always go.
“She’s fine, trust me,” Logan said, leaning his girl from head to toe. He knew her like a book. He knew her life at the back of his hands. He loved showing it too.
“I’m fine, thank you,” y/n smiled at the man as he looked at Logan. He wanted to speak, say something, but he couldn’t. Logan wasn’t actually doing anything to make the man complain.
“Get a load of that guy,” y/n rolled her eyes as he walked off. “Yep,” Logan said, not really caring. “Why are you always so calm? He was disrespecting us. Disrespecting you,” y/n said, confused about why the man never cared.
“I’m still alive, aren’t I? You’re making it seem like that fetus of a man shot at me,” y/n rolled her eyes and sat back as she crossed her arms, upset at the lack of care Logan had. She felt like she was the only one who cared about things.
Throughout the night, Logan made small talk with y/n to ease her mood. She tried to stay upset at the man, but the hand grabs, foot nudges, and complements made her melt
“Said you had a surprise for me, Bub?” Logan asked as the two made it into the hotel that Logan bought for the night. The top floor had a good view, a view he knew y/n would love.
“Yeah, but I thought we were going back to the house,” y/n pouted, a bit tipsy as Logan carried her through the door. “I know, and I apologize, princess. If you left it at the house, you can give it to me tomorrow. Or I can go get it now?” Logan suggested.
“No, no, you don’t have to do all that. I-I got it. I got it,” Y/n said as she kicked her heels off and walked towards the bed with Logan.
He had a few drinks, but that never affected him. She prayed it would tonight so she wouldn’t have to work hard, but she’ll deal with it.
Y/n knows Logan’s a hard one to crack, but the man loved her. He’s so anything for her, so a long session of begging or anything of that sort, would make him crack. Only for her.
“Get comfortable — I’ll be back,” Y/n said as she stumbled to the bathroom. Logan chuckled as he got undressed, already knowing y/n wanted to have sex. She always does, and he never says no.
Y/n didn’t take long to get stripped and walk out of the bathroom slowly. The lights were dim, and Logan sat up against the headboard of the bed, legs spread and waiting for his perfect girl.
“I-I know you’re against it, and I know you always shut me down, but tonight is special. I-I really, really want you tonight,” Y/n said, slowly crawling on the bed as Logan’s chest rose.
“You always get me, Bub, so what’s there to beg about?” Logan said as he rubbed his thighs. “I want you to cum in me,” y/n looked at him with those eyes he could barely say no to.
“Y/n, don’t start tonight. Ian tryna ruin the night,” Logan has rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Baby, please,” y/n begged, trailing her hands up his legs until they were mid-thigh.
“Keep beggin’ for that shit, and ima turn around and go to sleep,” Logan warned the girl, but she ignored him and put his cock in her hand. “C’mon, daddy, please,” y/n said, bringing out the word she used in once in a blue moon.
“Nah uh, get off, y/n. I told you what was gonna happen-“ Before he could finish, y/n wrapped her wet mouth around his tip, sucking down hard as her tongue moved up and down his slit.
“F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs shook as he gripped the sheets. “Y/n, remove your fucking mouth,” Logan demanded, but she ignored him, looking into his angry dark eyes as she slipped down onto his cock, taking all the inches in that she could.
“Y-Y/n!” The man groaned loudly, hips bucking as his hand went to her hair, pulling her up to get her off, but not strong enough. He was physically stronger than her, so she knew if he wanted her off, he’d get her off.
“Fuckin- Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ bad,” Logan said as his other hand cupped her cheek. “But you take my cock so well,” Logan admitted with a chuckle as he slowly began moving her head at a pace he wanted her to suck in.
“Always so fuckin’ needy — Needy little slut can’t just enjoy my cock. Always needs my cum to satisfy her,” Logan said, now moving his hips, allowing his cock to thrust up into her throat.
“That’s it, kid — Fuckin’ suck me up since you want it so bad. You ain’t gettin’ it in that cunt. You ain’t earn it yet,” Logan said, watching spit spill from her mouth.
Y/n did her best to look up and into his eyes. Her was glossy, streaming tears as he grew dark. He couldn’t hold back his deep groan at the sight of her taking his cock like this.
“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” Logan said, getting angry at her. He hated how bad she was, but loved that she’d do anything to get what she wanted from him.
“Fuckin’ brat,” Logan growled, snapping his hips faster to make her gag and cough on his cock. Maybe if she was too busy trying to focus on taking him, she’d stop silently begging for him to breed her.
It’s not like the man didn’t want to. He was just insecure. Yeah, he and y/n had been dating for a while, but the people roaming about are right. At least that’s what he thought at the time.
What if he is too old for her? He’d basically be baby-trapping her if he gave her what she wanted. He swore she’d regret it.
He forced himself to think that way, but every time y/n took his cock, rather that was with her mouth, cunt, ass, or anything, she’s beg him to breed her. Something in him knew she wanted it, but the other part held him back.
“Fuck, y/n, stop it! Stop fucking looking at me like that!” Logan shouted at the girl, an animalistic tone slipping out as he fucked her throat.
Y/n didn’t stop. She continued, whether her eyes could barely stay on him or not, she kept looking up at him, begging him to breed her.
“Y/n, I can’t — I fucking can’t,” the man had thrown his head back, whining as he felt himself near. He’s me we did that before, but him trying to yell her no but also seeing her beg, was too much for him. He was overstimulated by his thoughts.
Y/n slapped Logan’s hands off of him and quickly crawled onto him. She grabbed his cock and aligned herself with him before sitting down.
The moan that escaped her mouth made his eyes widen. “F-Fuck, kid, stop it!” Logan said, but his hands came to her waist and kept her in place. She tried to bounce, but he didn’t even allow her to do that.
Logan’s feel curled as his fingernails dug into her sides, causing her to feel in pain, but also pleasure. “Do it, daddy, please,” was all had to say on his cock before he jumped over the edge.
Logan’s mouth parted as his whole body stuttered. No noises came from his mouth for a second as y/n felt his warm seed coat her walls.
“Yes! Yes, daddy, yes!” Y/n cried out with happiness before she buried her face into the crook of his neck, sucking into his skin hard. That pulled all of his groans and moans out.
Logan’s hands wrapped around the girl's back and waist, pulling her into his body as she grinned against his pelvis, letting her swollen bud feel all the affection it needed.
“Please, more, Logan. Please. Please,” y/n continued rubbing against him as her whole body felt numb. She was going to cum, and Logan knew it. Damn her.
“Fuck, kid — F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs kicked as he tried keeping himself in, but he couldn’t. She squeezed him so hard for him not to do what she’d been begging for, for the longest.
“Y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as his nails broke the skin on the young girl's back and waist. “Yes, yes!” Y/n almost cried as her body kicked up and she came, sucking the man too hard. To damn hard.
Logan’s mouth parted once again as his eyes crossed, feeling too much pleasure as he spilled into y/n for the second time and took the love bites y/n gave him on his neck.
Logan was pissed. He was so damn pissed at y/n for not listening to him. He wanted to punish her, but how? How could he after he bred her? He wouldn’t be able to pull out. And fuck a condom. He was fucked. He broke the promise he kept to himself. He really fucking loves her to let her do this to him.
“You’re so fuckin’ bad, y/n,” Logan breathed out into y/n’s ear, alarming her. He wasn’t relaxed. He was angry. “You like gettin’ what you want?” The man asked as he slowly lifted y/n off of him. She was being held in the air.
“Then ima give you what you fucking want,” before y/n knew what he meant, the man flipped the two, allowing him to hover over her.
“S-Sorry, I just- I really needed you. I-I love you so much, and I-I — I want you to give me a baby. I-If you don’t want it, I-I’ll just take the plan b tomorrow. I promise,” y/n couldn’t stop stuttering.
She felt a slight fear. She knew how Logan got, and now that he’d already come in her, he’d be worse.
“Fuck that plan b. You wanna baby? Then deal with the fucking consequences,” Logan turned y/n around and forced her onto her hands and knees. Before she could process anything, he plunged into her.
“Fuuck!” Y/n screamed at the new angle and the hard thrust. “Shut the fuck up, and take it,” the man groaned as a hand came down on her ass. “Take my fuckin’ kid, since you wasn’t em so damn bad,” he added.
Y/n cried into the sheets, thinking he couldn’t fuck her hard until his claws came out. He’d never done this before, but she knew what he was up to.
The man’s claws punched into the wall right in front of the two. He gripped tightly, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere before he pounded her into the mattress.
The young girl's neck and back belt pain. He was breaking her and didn’t care. She wanted this.
“Lot,” y/n whined, not being able to say what she had to say. She was beyond fucked. “Don’t worry, Bub — You’re gonna make a damn good mom,” Logan said, making sure she knew he was up for this.
Y/n slightly smiled as her cunt quivered, finally letting out another orgasm as her eyes closed. “S-So good,” she said as she slipped away. “I know, baby — I know,” the man growled.
Logan never stopped his thrust, making sure she’d feel the soreness when she woke up. And the loads he was going to leave in her.
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hyunebunx · 2 days
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Wow I’m stupid I pressed send way too fast 🩵 with Lee Know??
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˖˙ ᰋ ── 🩵 - kissing in the rain with Minho
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﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: a teeny tiny amount of angst but it has a happy ending
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: thank you sm for requesting!!! <3 i had soo many ways of writing this in my head that i struggled lol. i really hope you like what i came up with. it's loosely (very) based on the rain scene in pride and prejudice so enjoy!! <33
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Arguments were not a usual occurrence in your relationship. Most of the time you managed to settle any disagreement before it could escalate to such heights, the perfectly communicating couple all of your friends couldn’t help but feel a little envious of.
Now was not one of those times; your stress and emotions were getting the best of both you and Minho in the most unpleasant way. You hated arguing with him, getting angry and unable to see the other’s point of view, clouded by the desire to be right and make each other understand where you were coming from.
“You don’t get it.” Minho shakes his head with a sigh, forearms resting on the wheel as the rain poured outside your safe haven, hitting the windshield at an alarming pace and preventing you from seeing anything, even with the headlights on.
“Explain it to me, then!” You bite back, body facing his in the heated passenger seat that was keeping you warm and cozy despite the chill outside. Even when arguing you could admit Minho was the most considerate person alive – you didn’t ask him to turn on the heat, he must have done it when he noticed you trembling like a leaf after getting in.
He surprised you after work, dropping by and driving directly to one of your favorite restaurants just in time for dinner and a well deserved date night. Everything was perfect, the location, the food, and especially the company, laughing and having a great time with the love of your life.
Until things turned sour on your drive home, and what started as a silly disagreement turned into a full-on argument about something you didn’t find significant enough even to remember.
“That’s what I’ve been doing for the past ten minutes but it seems you don’t want to listen!”
You’ve been walking (or driving) in circles, with him getting frustrated and you following right on his tail until the car came to a stop right in front of your apartment building.
It’s not like you didn’t want to listen or care to hear him out, it’s just that Minho seemed to make something out of nothing, insisting and pushing forth the same idea like you were nothing more than a child who lacked basic comprehension. It was frustrating and exhausting, especially after the long day you’ve had.
“Min, I’ve been listening.” You try to smooth things over, warm hand landing on his thigh comfortingly. “Just because I’m not giving you the answers you want doesn’t mean I’m not hearing you.”
Minho remains silent, head turned the other way to stare out the window and not acknowledge your presence. When the silence stretches on, you give up with a sigh and retract your hand, reaching for your purse in the backseat and opening the car door in the same breath.
“What are you – “ You close it right before he can finish the sentence, set on getting inside with or without him to finally take the bubble bath you’ve been daydreaming about all day at work.
“Kitten!” His voice follows a moment later, the sound of the car door slamming louder than him amongst the deafening rain. “Y/n!”
Despite yourself and the insanity of spending even one more minute in this storm, you stop and allow him to catch up, not protesting as his warm hands land on your shoulders and turn you around almost desperately.
“Where are you going? We are not done talking.” He states, dark hair and clothes getting soaked at an alarming pace as the rain spares neither of you.
“But I am!” You exhale, the chill settling into your bones. “We won’t reach an agreement like this so let’s just stop!”
His eyes widen as he pulls you closer, chest to chest, figures illuminated by the bright headlights almost blinding. “Baby, wait – “
“I hate fighting with you, Min.” Without meaning to, you interrupt him once again, reaching up to cup his face and drag him closer. “I’m sorry, okay? We can talk this over calmly inside after we cool down. Just not like this, please, I can’t do it anymore.”
He nods instantly, agreeing without a doubt and most likely seeing his faults too, and not only yours. Then, when you expect him to let go and finally follow you in, Minho surprises you the second time tonight by leaning over and connecting your lips in a kiss full of passion and love, reminding you once again that the heart in his chest beats first and foremost for you. His upper limbs cling to your body just like your clothes, hugging you tightly while your hands squeeze his face affectionately, a smile sneaking past and pulling one from him as well, on the verge of beaming into the kiss.
The rain seems to disappear, the cold too, like you weren’t bothered by either in the first place. Minho has that effect on you, helping you see the good in every situation. Sure, the location was not ideal – nothing could be less romantic than a barely lit parking lot – but as always, the company mattered more. And the message he was trying to send. When words failed you, actions worked better, speaking louder and getting your point across without much effort.
Sure, the argument wasn’t resolved but you both managed to make the other understand what mattered the most. You might be disagreeing now, momentarily stuck in a small pothole along the way, but you still loved each other, you would get over it and be okay in the end.
Because that’s what true love meant. Getting through things together and continuing to walk down your joined paths, hand in hand, no matter how many potholes or rough patches you encounter. A small setback won’t ever erase your feelings for each other, or make you forget all the beautiful moments you’ve shared.
And maybe, just maybe, a kiss was all you needed to finally understand Minho’s point when you sat down and resolved things that night. He, on the other hand, needed a few more to be satisfied.
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astheforcewillsit · 3 days
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In which the Kaminoans provide a miseducated version of what and who the Jedi are, and the clones realize that at their core, the Jedi are religious monks.
Cultural misunderstands are bound to ensue due to this.
(based of the scene where Obi-wan and Anakin bow to Echo and Fives after they join the 501st)
(original ao3 link)
The first time Obi-Wan bows to Cody, he does so low and Infront of the men. All of the men. It is not a simple incline of his head. It is a slow, low dip.
Ancient practiced movements, just as Qui-Gon had taught him.
They had had saved his life. Again And he is truly grateful. He is still unused to a war like this. His very essence as a Jedi protests his involvement in it.
But he moves only by the will of the Force, and it has brought him to such a moment like this.
Before he completes his gratitude, he is stunned by a collective gasp amongst the men and an arm on his shoulder. The Force tells him it is one of the younger men.
There's a sharp reprimand from Cody, and the arm is off, though the Force is still disturbed
(The touch had not bothered Obi-Wan, in between droids and separatist leaders, it has been the kindest touch he's had all week.
It doesn't bother him, the touch of the clones. He enjoys their presence. Though he can feel the fear palatable through the Force. He hopes that one day they'll be less terrified of him. That they will know him for the human he is. Force knows the damage the Kaminoans have done to the reputation of the Jedi Order.)
Cody steps up as Obi-Wan rises--clearly the action disturbed the peace.
"Sir, I-"
"Clearly I have done something to offend you." He straightens himself, "I apologize."
Cody looks scandalized. This is not going well.
He hesitates. His Commander is still a Labyrinth. He looks at the face of Jango Fett everyday, though he sees none of the darkness clouded in those eyes. With Cody, it's almost fear.
"Sir, there is no need to apologize to us. it's just..."
"it's a sign that we've done wrong and have to ask for forgiveness, usually done by subordinates--cadets to the Kaminoans or the bounty hunters that trained us. When you did that, well...it looked like you thought you did something wrong, that maybe you were asking for forgiveness or was ashamed," another clone (Boil, Obi-Wan reminds himself, the "shiny" who touched him) supplies with some distaste, "doesn't mean the same for you sir?"
Obi-Wan could confuse them, because technically Jedi do bow for forgiveness too. But not in shame, never. He decides to keep it beginner level friendly today.
"I am expressing gratitude. You saved my life," Obi-Wan responds as if it is the most obvious thing, "Though If I have done anything wrong, it has simply been confusing you all. I will not bow if it makes you all comfortable."
His culture is important to him. It his his blood and his soul, but these men are not here with him of their own accord. These men are making sacrifices just by being alive, Obi-Wan could stand to be more like them. Though his heart pulls at the thought of abandoning something so natural to him.
"No sir, that is not necessary," Cody seems to relax in front of him. His anxiety has dissolved into gentle waves in the Force, and instead Obi-Wan senses a small bit of curiosity.
It reverberates through the company.
"Should we..."
"Oh Force no, if bowing has been negative to you please do not do it on my account. And I will alter it," he makes an example, inclining his head just slightly and putting a hand to his chest, praying he doesn't offend, "I am grateful to you all, and I endeavor to show it."
"Only what you're comfortable with, your culture is sacred to you, I know this," he adds, "and if you never tell me anything, I will be okay with that."
"Can you...can we learn more. The kaminoans didn't tell us you did that, they didn't tell us you were...priest--"
"Monks," Obi-wan corrects and smiles at the clone who asked, Waxer the Force tells him, "And I will till you all you want to know about the Jedi, if you feel comfortable telling me about who you are."
There's reluctance in the Force. They may not be Mandalorians, but they carry the secrecy of their beliefs with them. He doesn't blame them. They have so little that belongs to them, the clones. Why give what scarcity they own away to the man who they were handed to on a silver platter.
The Force radiates skepticism, but also trust.
Good, the gap is slowly bridging.
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evanbi-ckley · 16 hours
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He feels like he’s being weighed down. Like he’s under water or a heavy blanket. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t get his eyes to open. There’s muffled sound nearby, but he can’t make out anything coherent. He’s also really warm. Uncomfortably so.
Is this what death is like? Is he in Hell? Or something Hell-adjacent? Were all the fire and brimstone idiots he refused to give the time of day actually right about something?
But then the heat is gone and there’s a cool breeze that skims across his skin.
Does he have skin? Do people feel their skin once they’re dead?
He’s still debating with himself as he gets pulled further under.
~***~
What is that annoying, repetitive sound? Did he change his alarm? Why the fuck can’t he turn it off?
~***~
It hurts.
Why does it hurt?
He can’t even tell what hurts, but something fucking hurts.
If he could just open his eyes and get up to take some ibuprofen.
Also his nose itches. Why can’t he fucking scra-
~***~
“Fucking bees.”
~***~
He’s warm again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time. 
He feels safe. And alive. 
He doesn’t feel as weighed down anymore.
It’s difficult, but he cracks his eyes open. He’s - in the hospital? That’s definitely a hospital ceiling and hospital lights and hospital machines beeping.
He turns his head to the left - slowly - and sees his arm is in a giant cast. That explains why he can’t lift it.
He turns his head to the right just as slowly. He’s surprised to see a head of curly hair lying next to his hip, a large hand in his own. 
When he flexes his hand, the curly head pops up immediately.
The man looks at him with bloodshot eyes that clearly haven’t seen sleep in days. He’s young - not alarmingly so but certainly younger than Tommy. The stubble on his jaw has gone far past 5 o’clock shadow and has entered the realm of beard, making him look slightly older. But who -?
“Tommy?” the man asks. His voice is low and raspy, possibly unused.
“Uh,” Tommy says. His own voice sounds even worse.
Without hesitation, the man turns - without letting go of Tommy’s hand - and pours a cup of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed. Then he brings the cup up to Tommy’s mouth, a bendy straw pointing toward him.
Tommy drinks slowly, his mouth feeling like parchment that’s been left out in the sun too long. 
“Thanks,” he says.
The man sets the cup down and says, “Yeah, so um, h-how do you feel?”
He thinks for a bit, taking stock of himself.
“Sore. Numb in places. I assume they’ve got me on the good stuff?” The man nods, a cute smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sitting next to me, holding my hand. So all told, I’m doing pretty well.”
The tips of the man’s ears turn pink, and a cute blush spreads across his cheeks. Adorable.
“You don’t have to flirt so hard, Tommy. You should know by now, I’m a sure thing.”
Ah, so -
“So we’re,” Tommy gestures vaguely with his head, “together?”
“Uh,” the man laughs uncertainly, “for about six months now, yeah.”
“Oh.” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re so…” He trails off, not really knowing where he was going with that.
“So…what?” the man prods.
“Take your pick,” Tommy says. “Young? Pretty? Out of my league?”
“Sweetheart.” The man says it like they’ve had this discussion before, but he’s smiling. “Don’t try to amnesia your way out of being with me. I called dibs forever after our second date.”
Tommy smiles lazily. “Dibs forever, huh?”
“Yep. You’re stuck with me.”
Humming as if he’s considering the pros and cons, Tommy finally says, “I guess I can live with that.”
The man’s smile is blinding. “Evan,” he says. “Evan Buckley. In case you forgot.”
It comes back to him then - a cruise ship rescue in the middle of a hurricane, a basketball game, a kiss, a first date that ended terribly, more dates that ended perfectly, slow dancing in the kitchen, long nights together that ended too soon. A call during a bad storm, total engine failure, glass and fear and rain and acceptance and trees and blue eyes and a smile like warm sunshine.
“Evan,” Tommy says, pulling him closer. “Baby.” He kisses him softly. “I love you more than anything. How could I forget?”
Evan has tears in his eyes and leans their foreheads together when he says, “Don’t ever do that again. I thought I lost you.”
“I’m so sorry, baby. I thought so, too. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I’m so sorry.”
The next kiss is wet with tears - Evan’s or his own, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, and they’re both okay, and they’re together. That’s all that matters.
“I love you, too, by the way,” Evan says once they pull apart. “Can’t believe you waited to tell me until after you almost died, but I’ll take it.”
“I’ll say it every day until I actually die, okay?” he says. He gets a smack to his good shoulder for his effort, but they’re smiling too hard for it to have any weight.
There’s a long road ahead with recovery and therapy and stubbornness and frustration, but they’ve got this. They’ll get through it all. 
Together.
part 1
part 2
part 3
also now on ao3!
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Bruce: perhaps I should pay more attention to the whole cult programming thing
The batfam: THE FUCKING WHAT???
Bruce: oh yeah only Jason was there, yeah no I got brainwashed like actually pretty brainwashed.
Jason: I barely remember that, there was so many dead homeless people in those sewers deep underground.
the batfam: THE FUCKING WHAT??????
Bruce: anyway, maybe I should pay more attention to that. Every now and then when I get starved it comes back but you know not the worst it could have happened.
Tim: Bruce what the actual fuck, this happened when JASON WAS ALIVE??? WHEN???
Bruce: it happens a lot! Why do you think I have weird beliefs and feelings about spirituality!
Tim: I just thought, I don’t know what I thought.
Bruce: there’s uh many reasons, anyway barboros the bat demon is real by the way.
The batfam tries to wrap their heads around this conversation, but ends up just making Bruce sit down and they stage an intervention.
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Honest Conversations
Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: The boys want to talk about sex. Warnings: Chronic pain and mentions of sexual dysfunction Series Masterlist
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The bedroom is alive with the soft crackle of the fireplace, its warm light dancing across familiar faces. The armchairs are pushed aside, making room for a nest of blankets and cushions on the floor where you're settled in for the evening. Low chatter fills the space, punctuated by quiet laughter—a symphony of shared history between you and the Marauders.
But tonight, an undercurrent of something more serious tugs at the edges of your awareness. It's an unspoken question that has lingered in the air for some time now, growing heavier with each passing moment.
You shift slightly, your back resting against Remus's chest as he leans against the headboard. His arm is draped around your middle, a comforting presence despite the gravity of what lies ahead. James sits to your right, his hand resting on your thigh, while Sirius occupies the foot of the bed.
There's no awkwardness in the way you all fit together. This closeness is as much a part of you as the magic coursing through your veins.
But tonight, there's a palpable tension threading through the comfort, a silent acknowledgment that the conversation soon to unfold might change everything.
Your kisses with the boys have grown more fervent, their touches lingering, over the past few weeks. It's in the way Sirius's hand brushes against your lower back, how James's eyes linger on your lips, and the subtle shift in Remus's gaze when you're close. Something has changed, deepened. You can feel it, a thrumming undercurrent of desire and longing that threatens to pull you under. And you know they feel it too.
But something holds you back, a nagging thought at the edge of your consciousness. It's not because you don't want this—Merlin, every fibre of your being yearns for them—but because of everything else.
You've played this conversation out in your head a hundred times before, but now it feels different, real. You can't avoid it any longer; you need to talk about it—with them. They deserve to know.
It's Sirius who breaks the silence first.
"So..." He leans forward, elbows braced against his knees. A ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, but it never reaches his eyes, clouded as they are with something akin to regret. "Seems we've all been skirting around the same issue, doesn't it?"
James, ever the pragmatist, quirks an eyebrow, his gaze steady and unyielding. "What Padfoot's trying to say is..." He pauses, choosing his words with care. "Perhaps it's time we addressed the fact that things are escalating."
His voice is light, almost conversational, but there's an undertone that speaks volumes. It's in the tight set of his shoulders, the way his fingers drum a silent tattoo against the his thigh. His eyes meet yours, reflecting both concern and conviction.
You feel Remus shift behind you, an almost imperceptible movement, yet so familiar that your body responds instinctively, leaning back into the warmth he offers.
"There's no need to rush into anything, love," he murmurs, his breath a soft caress against your ear. "We're here for you, whatever you decide."
A nod of understanding passes between you and Remus, and your eyes fall to your hands, picking at an imaginary loose thread on your jeans. "I know," you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips. "It's just..."
You trail off, gathering your thoughts as tension coils in the pit of your stomach. This is it—the tipping point that could either strengthen your bond or shatter the fragile peace you've found with each other. "I want to move forward with this—with all of you. But there are some things you need to understand about me first."
James leans forward, his brows knitting together in concern. "What do you mean, sweetheart?"
You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. Your fingers dance anxiously over the fabric of your jeans, seeking solace in the familiar rhythm. "Because of my medical issues—my conditions, the chronic pain—sex will be different for me."
Sirius, typically the embodiment of reckless abandon, stills at your words. His brow furrows, not in confusion, but in concentration, as if trying to decipher a particularly tricky piece of parchment. "Just tell us what you need," he says, his voice low and steady. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it. There's no pressure."
A wave of relief washes over you as Sirius's words, genuine and warm, ease some of the tension in your body. You glance at Remus, who gives your hand a comforting squeeze, before turning back to face James and Sirius.
"I've never been able to finish by myself," you confess, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "It feels like hitting a wall that you just can't get through." You swallow hard, forcing yourself to continue. "And I rarely get wet, even when I'm aroused, because of the medication I take."
The room falls into silence as they absorb your confession, but there's no judgment in their eyes, no hint of discomfort. Only love, concern, and a deep understanding that makes your heart ache with gratitude.
James reaches out to gently take your other hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in a show of support. "That's okay, love, we'll work it out. And if it never happens, that's fine too. We just want to be here with you, no matter what."
Remus is the next to speak, his voice steady despite the gravity of the conversation. "We can use lube. There are ways to make things easier for you. And we'll always check in, make sure you're comfortable."
You nod, appreciating his patience. "The thing is, physically... I should be able to have sex. Most positions shouldn't cause any problems in theory. But I've never... well, you know. So I can't say for certain how it'll feel in practice. And I don't know if the things I'm worried about will become bigger obstacles when faced with the reality of the situation."
He moves closer, not touching but present, a comforting solidity. "What are you worried about?"
You glance at him, feeling exposed yet compelled to continue. This isn't easy, laying bare your fears and vulnerabilities, but you know it's necessary. "The pain," you admit, your voice hardly above a whisper. "Sometimes it's so bad I can't even move, and I don't know how that would translate into... well, sex." You pause, your fingers absentmindedly twisting the hem of your shirt. "And then there's the worry that I won't... enjoy it as much as I could. That I might need to stop or that something will go wrong."
James's hand comes up to gently cradle your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. His voice is steady, a grounding force amidst the whirlwind of uncertainties. "We'll go as slow as you need," he assures you, thumb brushing tenderly against your skin. "The last thing we want is to hurt you. If you need to stop, we stop. No questions asked. You set the pace."
Sirius nods, his usual playful demeanour replaced by a seriousness that underscores the gravity of the situation. "And it's not just about sex," he adds, his grey eyes locking with yours, "it's about being close to you, sharing this part of ourselves with you. If some days we do more, and some days we do less, that's okay. As long as we're in it together."
Remus, ever the voice of reason, leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "You've been open with us about everything so far, and that's all we ask. If something feels wrong, if something hurts, you just tell us. We'll figure it out together."
The knots in your shoulders start to unravel, the conversation not as daunting as you feared it might be. Their responses are everything you need—understanding, patient, loving.
"I don't want to disappoint you," you murmur, the words barely more than a breath.
James's arms encircle you then, pulling you into his chest. His hug is firm but gentle, as if he fears you'll shatter at any moment. "You could never disappoint us," he whispers back, lips brushing against your hair. "We love you, all of you. This isn't about reaching some finish line. It's about being here with you, whatever that looks like."
Sirius edges nearer, his fingers resting lightly on your knee, grounding you in their shared resolve. "And we're not the sort to leave a job half-done, are we?" His voice carries a playful note, attempting to cut through the tension that has woven itself into the air. "We'll figure it out, love."
A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, and you lean into them, warmed by their unwavering support. "I know."
Remus's hand moves in soothing circles on your arm, a steady rhythm amidst the storm of uncertainty. "It'll be a learning curve for us all," he admits, his gaze never leaving yours. "But we'll take it one step at a time. And we'll be here—every step of the way."
You study their expressions, finding only warmth and acceptance there, and something inside you unclenches. You'd been dreading this conversation, fearing it might create discomfort or distance, but instead, it seems to have drawn you closer.
"Thank you," you whisper, your voice thick with the emotion of the moment. "For understanding. For being... you."
James's smile is soft as he leans in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. "No need for thanks. We're the lucky ones, having you."
Sirius shifts, lying down beside you, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your thigh. It's a comforting presence, grounding you when everything else feels like it's spinning out of control. "We'll figure out what works best for you, together. And believe me, we're going to make sure it feels good."
Remus catches your eye, his own so full of understanding that it's almost overwhelming. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of your shoulder. "You're safe with us," he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm and comforting. "We'll take care of you."
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, warmth spreading through you. It's strange and wonderful, this sense of belonging that has blossomed between you and these three men.
James' gaze softens as he watches you, but there's a flicker of something else—curiosity, perhaps, or concern. "This might be a bit presumptuous," he begins, his tone cautious, "but have you thought about contraception? There's a potion for witches, and I know the Muggle world has options."
Your nod is slow, thoughtful. "I'm actually on a Muggle method. An implant. It's more reliable than potions or the pill, and easier to manage. I haven't had a period in... I can't even remember when, but it runs out in summer because it lasts three years."
A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Sirius's mouth, his grey eyes sparkling with mischief. "That's certainly convenient," he murmurs, a lightness in his voice that attempts to lift the heaviness in the air. "One less thing to concern ourselves with."
His hand slides further up your thigh, and you can't help the sharp intake of breath as a jolt of electricity arcs between you both. Remus shoots Sirius a warning look—part admonishment, part protectiveness—but you merely laugh, feeling more liberated and accepted than ever before.
Remus returns his attention to you, his own hand finding yours atop the table. His thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand, each stroke a silent promise of understanding and patience. "We'll move at your pace, love," he assures you, and you hear the sincerity ringing clear and true in his voice. "Whatever you're comfortable with, whatever you need—we're here for you."
Your heart swells with gratitude for these three remarkable men who have somehow become an integral part of your life. The future remains uncertain, but one thing is clear: Whatever comes next, you'll face it together.
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mika-no-sekai-blog · 3 days
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Part X
Word count: 2200+
Warnings: mentions of trauma and burns
Autumn themed divider by tsunami-of-tears
Part IX | Part XI
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Waking up was laborious and it needed several tries, but when you finally managed to keep your eyes open, you were greeted by familiar surroundings of your cozy room. You let out a shuddering breath. For some reason, you expected to wake up back in that dark room with those two disgusting males above you.
No! It was nothing. It won't happen again. It won't. It's over, you forbade yourself to think about it. There was no doubt that these unpleasant memories would haunt you day and night, so you did the same thing that you did with all bad memories - you pushed them deep down where nobody could find them, not even you and closed the door. The moment it was done, the tremor stopped and you just lay in bed blankly gazing out the window.
After few minutes you inhaled deeply, ready to start all over. It was nice to find out that you could again breathe normally and even the pain was mostly gone. You raised an arm that was certainly broken before, carefully spinning it and trying to move it. It didn't hurt at all. Next you touched your face and hissed. It was still quite sensitive, but you didn't feel any wounds nor swelling.
Closing eyes you took another deep breath and another, enjoying the feeling, the fact that you could do it. You didn't worry about the scars or any temporary bruises that could mark your skin. For some reason you never had any left, your skin perfectly intact, porcelain white.
You rolled to your side and bumped into something solid and warm lying next to you. Slowly opening eyes, you found your husband still deep asleep on his stomach, covers pulled up to the ends of his short hair. Someone had cleaned him up, the bruise under his eye was almost healed, too. A layer of sweat glistened on his forehead.
Several strands of silky red hair were falling to his face, so you gently brushed them back, founding out that the ends on his right side were burnt as well as tip of his ear. Your heart clenched in pain.
"Eris?" You didn't want to wake him up. You just needed to make sure he was real, that he was alive.
His eyelids trembled slightly in answer and that was it. He didn't even move.
"It will take more to wake him up," an amused voice called from the door.
Groaning you sat up and frowned. Killian with tray of jars and bandages in hands was heading to Eris's side of bed, his face unreadable.
"Healers had to properly dope him to keep him asleep, you know. He was trying to get to you, so we dumped him into your bed, but even that didn't work much." He put the tray on bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed.
It took awhile for his words to completely sink in. Despite of Killian's rambunctious voice, his brother didn't even as much as stirred. Swallowing hard, you gently wiped sweat from his brows.
"Is.. is he hurt? How bad is it?"
"Do not worry," he smirked but it didn't reach his eyes. "He will be fine in day or two. It's just easier when he is calm and stays still."
He reached out and took your hand, gently squeezing it. The warmth spread in your chest in a second. "How do you feel? You looked pretty bad. It's really miraculous how fast and well you heal."
"I'm fine," you shrugged, your gaze again fell down to your husband. Is he fine though? He had to fight with his own brother, even killed him. All because of you. And Killian? It was also his brother.
Killian narrowed eyes on you. He leaned over Eris and grabbed your shoulder, making you look up at him. His other hand cupped your cheek. There was something so warm and brotherly in his touch and the way his sad amber eyes burned up.
"Don't even dare to think that this is your fault. Do you hear me? Volkan was asshole and deserved it. Not me nor Eris feel sorry for him. Believe me. I'd kill him myself for what he has done to you," his voice was grave. More than anything he seemed to be mad at his other brother, Volkan.
He held your gaze until you nodded, then flashed a smile. His attention moved to his older brother.
He pulled the covers off of Eris's back and revealed his shirtless form with the bandages on right scapula and shoulder and on his left side above the the hem of trousers. However that wasn't the reason why you gasped. Whole his back was covered with whiplash scars and burns of different sizes. Your lower lip quivered as your eyes watered at the sight of such cruelty.
"I was wondering whether you two already did it or not and here is the answer," Killian snorted. Despite his attempt at a joke, there wasn't even a hint of amusement in his voice.
"He doesn't want people to know about this. He tried to hide it even from us, his siblings, and especially from mother, but she always knew," he added lowly and began to loosen the bandages with fresh burns under.
"Who-.." You couldn't finish the sentence.
"Who did this? Well.. we have more in common than you think. For start, our fathers were monsters. Yours at least covered up all the traces. Ours loved to show off his work."
You recoiled, pulling the covers to your chest. "Have you seen my body?"
He shook his head. "Only healers and your maids. Don't worry. I went only so far as staring at you while you were sleeping, but you already know that," Killian winked and blew you a kiss. He took one of the jars, dipped finger into the ointment and began to spread it carefully.
In silence you watched him to repeat the process until the wound was all covered. Then he took clean bandages and wrapped the burn. Your gaze moved to Eris's face. It was painful for sure, but he didn't even as much as frowned in this state.
"Can I do the other one?"
Killian looked up at you with raised brows. He hesitated for a moment and then handed you the jar with ointment. "I think that inside he would be so happy to know you took care of him, but he would be also angry that you've seen him like this, you know."
You swallowed hard and moved closer. "Do I just.. spread it?"
"Yeah," Killian answered softly, moved into the chair by the bed and eyed you thoughtfully. "He hasn't told yet, right?"
You tilted head to the side curiously. "Told me what exactly?"
"Nope, nothing," he shook his head. "My bad."
You frowned and focussed on the task at hand.
The outlines of the armour plates were burned into the flesh on Eris's shoulder. This wound was bigger and more severe than the other one. It must have been so painful when they undressed him. Touching him as lightly as you could, you spread the ointment and bandaged it.
When you were done, Killian took the tray, muttered something about the food and left.
Sitting there you watched your slumbering husband, biting on your lower lip anxiously. You suddenly needed to touch him, be closer to him, feel him, so you simply reached down and with feather-light touch traced the lines of his face with tip of the finger. He looked so young and vulnerable in sleep, his features soft and relaxed. You leaned down and kissed his cheek, inhaling his pleasant scent. You snuggled to his neck mindful of his wounds and stayed like that until your heart started to stutter.
You couldn't resist any longer and counted the freckles. Twelve cute little freckles on the right cheek. You smiled, satisfied, hoping that some day you would get a chance to count even the ones on the left side, now hidden in pillow.
Then you weaved fingers into his soft red hair, combing them back again and again, soothingly. Slowly moving to the back of his neck and down the spine, you mapped the scars, wishing you could erase them together with memories that were tied to them. Some of them were really deep and big as your palm and you didn't even want to imagine what could have caused them. It was breaking your heart onto pieces.
"It's gross, isn't it."
You startled at the sound of his hoarse voice clouded with emotions. His eyes were still closed, now wet with tears, but he was undoubtedly awake.
"My back.. It's gross, right? You don't have to-"
"No, it isn't. It just.. hurts to see how much you had to suffer," you sobbed. When did you started to cry? You wiped the tears into a sleeve of your nightgown.
"Not more than you," he finally looked up at you, his amber eyes calm, resigned.
"I'm sorry if I made you angry. Killian told me that you don't like others to look at your back. I shouldn't have touched you without permission.."
"I'm not angry," he sighed heavily. "To be honest, I quite enjoyed it before you got to the scars."
He was awake all this time? You didn't know what to say to that, too embarrassed.
"Do you usually cuddle with unconscious males like that or am I the exception?" he teased you, chuckling when he noticed your blazing cheeks.
You gaped at him, mortified to the bone. You never heard him joke around with others let alone with you. Eris was mostly a serious male, it was hard to believe he had it in him. "I-I don't touch others," you stammered. "How could I? I-"
"I know," still laughing he took your hand and pressed it to his cheek. "I'm sorry..
"I love when you are touching me," he murmured into your palm barely audibly, his cheeks tinted pink.
He closed eyes, his breaths slowed down after awhile. Minutes ticked by and he didn't move even slightest. Thinking that he fell asleep again, you pulled up covers on his bare back and caressed back of his head. Amber eye opened, watching you with a strangely sad glint in it.
"How do you feel?"
"Such small burns can't hurt me much," his smile didn't reach his eyes. "And what about you?"
"Some spots are sensitive to touch, but otherwise I'm completely fine."
"Really?"
"Really," you nodded.
"I saw what they did to you, what they were about to do.."
"I'm fine. Thanks to you." You smiled at him gently while mentally checking the door. Intact yet you felt uneasy all of a sudden.
Nothing happened because Eris was there. He came for me. It was nothing.
He closed eyes and heaved a sigh of relief. "I wanted to kill them all again and again when I saw you on the ground." He exhaled sharply through his nose.
"So little was missing and I wouldn't have found you in time. Just this little," he indicated with his fingers. He slowly got up, grimacing and sat facing you. He seemed to be angry or maybe worried. It was hard to say, but you felt guilty nonetheless.
"I needed something personal for my hounds to track you down," he gestured to the vanity, "but there's nothing solely yours in this castle. Thanks Mother that you haven't thrown away that birthday dress. Why didn't you say anything? It's no trouble to get you some combs, hair clips or whatever you need."
You felt so small. With every word your shoulders slumped more and more. You looked down on hands clenched in your lap, avoiding his piercing fiery eyes.
"If it's uncomfortable for you to tell me, you can.. I don't know.. write me down a list.. or tell your maids.."
"I'm sorry, but I-.. I have everything I need," you muttered, feeling like a child scolded by parent.
"Bullshit," he snorted humorlessly. "You can be selfish with me. Ask me for things you want. I'm begging you. I will give you anything your heart desires."
Anything.. A certain thought flashed through your mind and you bit on your lower lip.
"What is it?" His index finger hooked under your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. You swallowed hard, hesitating.
"Anything," he reassured you when you didn't speak up right away, his voice soft. "Just name it."
His hand moved to your cheek, thumb gently caressing you, while his burning amber orbs were searching the depths of your soul for answer.
You moistened your lips, your palms began to sweat. "What if.. What if I said I want you?"
He gaped at you and then burst out laughing. "I'm here literally offering you a moon on string and you ask me for something that already belongs to you. Other females wouldn't hesitate to ask for jewellery, more dresses and who knows what but not you." Eris shook his head in disbelief and his features once again softened. If you didn't know better, you would think that you saw tears shining in the corners of his eyes.
Your heart skipped a beat and you blushed fiercely.
"From now on you'll wish you could get rid of me," he winked and flopped down into sheets, making himself comfortable on your bed.
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dovesdreaming · 3 days
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Deadpools guide to keeping you alive
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Summary: You have a habit of reminding everyone to take care of themselves, even though you often forget to do it for yourself. Wade, being Wade, notices, and in his own ridiculous yet sweet way, steps in to help you remember the little things.
Request
Masterlist
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You sat on the couch, curled up with your phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media while Wade, in full Deadpool attire, was standing on the coffee table, striking ridiculous superhero poses for no apparent reason. He’d started doing it about ten minutes ago, just because he could. One hand on his hip, the other flexed, he looked like a cross between a professional wrestler and an action figure from the 90s. "Looking good, Wade” you said absently, not even glancing up from your screen. "Have you had any water today?". “Hydration is for the weak!" he declared, though he immediately reached for the water bottle you’d left on the coffee table and took a big gulp, mask and all. You weren’t entirely sure how it worked, but you’d stopped asking those kinds of questions a long time ago. You smiled at his antics and shifted, feeling a little light-headed, but brushed it off. It happened sometimes. Not a big deal. Wade, however, noticed the slight wobble in your movement. He paused mid-pose, tilting his head toward you. "Hey, babe, you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out faster than I can regenerate a new spleen”.
You waved him off, though your stomach growled quietly. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just haven’t eaten yet, I guess. No big deal”. Wade’s eyes widened beneath his mask, and he jumped off the coffee table with a surprisingly graceful landing. "Uh, what? You guess? You haven’t eaten yet?" He checked the clock on the wall. "It’s 4 PM. That's not 'yet,' that’s 'barely survived on air alone!”. You frowned, genuinely surprised by the time. You’d gotten up early that morning, thrown yourself into work, and totally lost track of everything else. Again. “Oh…” You blinked. “Right. Oops?”.
Wade crossed his arms and gave you a look you knew well, the ‘I’m about to be ridiculous but also right’ look. “Let me get this straight: you’ve reminded me, multiple times, to drink water today-thank you for that, by the way-but you forgot to eat?” You shrugged, trying to play it off, though the light-headedness was starting to catch up to you. “I get distracted, okay? I’ve got a lot going on in my head sometimes”. Wade didn’t argue with that. Instead, he sighed and sat down next to you, pulling you into his side. “Alright, here's the deal. You’re gonna sit right here, not move a muscle- except to blink, breathe, and keep that heart pumping I guess, and I’m gonna make you some food”.
You started to protest. “Wade, you don’t have to-“ But he was already up, bounding toward the kitchen with surprising energy for a guy who’d been play posing on a coffee table moments before. “I do have to! Because apparently, you’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached, and I can’t have that, babe. You’d look weird without it”. You chuckled as you watched him dig through the fridge, though there was a part of you that felt a little guilty. This wasn’t the first time you’d forgotten something important. Wade had found you passed out on the couch before because you’d stayed up working for nearly two days straight. And then there was the time you forgot to drink for an entire day while binge watching a new show. Wade had quickly gotten you a glass of whatever was closest whilst gently scolding you.
Still, despite your forgetfulness, you always made sure to look out for your friends. You’d tell Wade, and anyone else, to “drink more water!” or “take breaks!” but when it came to yourself, you… just forgot. It wasn’t on purpose. It was like your brain got too full, and the little things just slipped through the cracks. You were pulled out of your thoughts by the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. Wade was muttering to himself, something about "smoking chimichangas" and “how do normal people make sandwiches without a sword?” But a few minutes later, he returned with a plate in hand, two sandwiches that looked like they’d survived a battle, but were clearly made with love. “Behold!” Wade declared, placing the plate on your lap with a flourish. “A culinary masterpiece. You won’t find this in any Michelin-star restaurant, because they can’t handle the truth”.
You couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Wade. You didn’t have to, really”. “Of course I did” he said, sitting back down beside you, much more gently this time. “Somebody’s gotta make sure you remember to do basic human things, like eating and sleeping and not turning into a raisin from dehydration”. You took a bite of the sandwich, feeling instantly better. “It’s good” you said through a mouthful of food. “Of course it is. I’m Deadpool. I don’t make bad sandwiches” he replied, leaning in to nudge you with his elbow. “But seriously, you gotta start taking care of yourself. I mean, I can regenerate my liver if it gives out, but you? You get one shot at this whole ‘being alive’ thing”.
You swallowed and nodded, feeling a little sheepish. “I know, I just… I get so caught up in things, I forget”. Wade looked at you, and even through the mask, you could feel the softness in his gaze. He reached over, pulling you into a side hug. “You know what, babe? That’s what I’m here for. To remind you to do all that boring, vital stuff. You remind me to drink water, I remind you to, you know, live. We balance each other out”.
You rested your head on his shoulder, sandwich still in hand. “Yeah, I guess we do”. “And from now on” Wade said, his voice full of determination, “I’m going to make sure you never forget again. I’ll be your personal reminder system. Forget to eat? I’ll hand-feed you if I have to. Forget to sleep? I’ll tuck you in with my very own beddy-bye song. And forget to shower? Well, I’ll.. okay, I’ll just throw you in the shower with a loofah grenade”.
You laughed, the sound muffled by another bite of your sandwich. “I don’t know if I should be scared or touched by that”. “Touched” Wade said, pulling you closer. “Definitely touched. In the heart, not the weird way. Unless you want it to be the weird way. I’m flexible”. You smiled, warmth filling your chest. “Thanks, Wade”. “Don’t mention it, babe” he said softly. Then he looked down at you, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Now, finish that sandwich and then we’re going to bed. Not for the fun stuff, mind you, unless you’re into that, but because you need to sleep. Doctor Deadpool’s orders”. You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the yawn that followed. “Fine, but only because Doctor Deadpool said so”. “That’s the spirit!” Wade cheered, and with a surprisingly gentle tug, he pulled you up off the couch and toward the bedroom, all while mumbling something about setting hydration alarms and taping snack bars to the walls as reminders.
And as you curled up in bed that night, Wade snuggled up next to you, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. Because even when you forgot to take care of yourself, Wade was always there to remind you, whether it was about drinking water, getting enough sleep, or just eating a simple sandwich.
And really, that was all you needed.
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Thank you for reading!!
129 notes · View notes
twinksrepository · 3 days
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Who knew Librarians could be so mean? Or hot?
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Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Pairing: Satan X F!Reader
CW: NSFW, angst and smut, Penis in Vagina sex, making out, embarrassment, being yelled at, safe sex, condom use, semi public sex, listen you bang in a library, modern AU
Word count: Roughly 6K
A/N: It's your first year of University. So far your lifeline has been the library on campus. You might also have a thing for a certain blond haired librarian.
Well. I did say I was having thoughts because of the new Satan and Asmodeus cards. So here's the first fic. The Asmo one is also done but I need to edit it so it might be up soon.
Images belong to Solmare.
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You knew university would be hard, difficult even. You just hadn’t expected it to be this hard. From the hours upon hours sitting in lecture halls and taking notes, to the lack of sleep as you never seemed to have enough time in the day to get everything you needed to done. 
In fact, at this point, you’re certain the only reason you’re still alive is because of the library on campus. 
Or. 
More specifically the blond haired librarian with verdant eyes who wore sweater vests. 
Your first interaction with the man had been late at night sometime during your first month of classes with minutes before the library was due to close. You were moments from tearing your hair out as you looked at the note you had as you hurried along the stacks looking for the reference books you needed. Out of your list of five that you needed for your first paper you had found zero. 
Sure you were from a small town. Sure this library was the largest collection of books you had ever seen. But you weren’t an idiot. You knew the dewey decimal system and understood it! Plus the catalogue showed there were several copies and not all of them were checked out. 
So why in the universe couldn’t you find a single one?
“Miss, we’re closing in less than five minutes.” Turning towards the voice you must have looked like such a mess with the way his stern expression softened. It might have been pity, it would have made sense for it to be pity since he did work at the library and was probably used to the first month of each semester to see new students looking like lambs being led to the slaughter. 
Either way, he approached you and looked at the wrinkled note in your hand. “Do you need some assistance finding these books?” 
“Yes.” You sounded pathetic even to your own ears. You had been ready to cry in that moment of defeat. There might have been water on your lashes as you looked at him.
“Ah.” With the paper in his hand he let out a chuckle as his eyes roamed over the page. “You must be taking one of Professor Willow’s classes.” At your nod, the smallest of smiles broke out across his face. “You’re in luck, follow me.” Feeling every bit like a lost little duckling you followed behind him towards one of the tables that another of the workers was cleaning up. “Your Professor gives the same first assignment every year, I noticed a group of what I assume are other students in his classes studying earlier. Ah, here we are.” 
It was like a gift from the academic gods as he handed you three of the books on your list with a smile that made you want to cry again but this time in relief. “Thank you!” You didn’t even need to head to the checkout counter, as he pulled you towards one of the terminals and checked out the books once he had your ID in hand. 
“I’ve made a note on your file to pull the other two you were looking for, is this the right number? We can send you a text when they’re ready for pick up.” This one man was a godsend as you nodded telling him it was the right number and you didn’t realize they offered that service.
“Maybe if you had a little more sleep you might have noticed.” Chuckling with a shake of his head. “I’m certain you feel overwhelmed, just know the staff are here to help. It’s important to find a rhythm that doesn’t burn you out and you look like you’re ready to fall over in a light breeze.” 
Nodding again and starting to feel like a bit of bobblehead. “Thank you Sir! Um I mean…” Trailing off and letting your eyes fall to his nameplate and the few still aware brain cells in your head were still enough to tell you not to blurt out what you wanted to ask. 
“Yes. My name’s Satan. Don’t ask.” And you didn’t. Not when he just saved your proverbial bacon. 
Suffice to say however that interaction had been enough to make you smarten up a little bit. He made a good point, if you kept burning the midnight oil you might not have the energy to finish your degree and that would have been a waste of the scholarship you were there on. Or being burnt out and letting the grades you needed to maintain slip could cost you the scholarship as well. 
You took his advice to heart and started asking the staff for help instead of wandering the stacks and assuming they’d think it a waste of their time. You couldn’t do it alone, at least not this part and the staff were always friendly. 
Yet after that first interaction, you noticed that whenever you ran into Satan he always seemed to have that little smirk on his face as he helped you find what you were looking for. Several weeks later he even shook his head a little as he handed you a tome that looked like it could double as a murder weapon. “At least you don’t have the bags under your eyes anymore, just remember you need to eat too.” 
“Thanks, Mom.” Throwing back at him as you walked away with a playful wink. Trying to ignore the tingling along your fingers that had brushed his green painted nails. 
The more you interacted with him the more you learned about him and he in turn you. It was easier for him to start the conversations based on the books you were looking for he had been able to piece together what you were studying for your degree. 
It wasn’t long before you found you both had a shared interest in reading and not just for school. “Knowledge is power. People respect someone who’s well informed.” He’d stated during one of your conversations with his hand on his chin. It made sense, and also made sense why he was a librarian. You also learned he was only a few years older than you, having finished his degrees in a time span that made your eyes widen in surprise. Knowledge is power indeed. 
The downside you saw as you got to know him better was a simple one. 
You had a crush on him. 
Something you very much kept to yourself and didn’t tell and of the few friends you had made, certain you’d be made fun of for finding the blond attractive. It might have been more being worried it was because he was a librarian because you believed with the way some of the female students fawned over him he was attractive to more than just you. It wasn’t just his looks though, he seemed so earnest in his statements, and in the brief time you’d known him it seemed like he always knew the outcome of events before they happened. He explained it away as being the logical outcome after shrugging his shoulders and going back to work. Add in his tall lean frame, blond hair that fell just over the rim on his glasses with the way he parted it. Those soft little smiles and that slightly arrogant chuckle when he was right. 
Well. 
You were smitten. At least you were also smart enough to know nothing could ever come of it. Besides you didn’t want to risk your friendship with one of the few people that loved books as much as you did. They had been your escape as a child in your small rural town and you’d never stop being grateful for the worlds they allowed you to see in those printed pages. 
At least. That was before the incident. 
You’d been walking along in a corner of the library under an overhang when you felt it. 
A single drop of water hitting the back of your neck as you perused the shelve. Lifting your fingers to the hair along the nap of your neck and feeling the wet spot. Tilting your head a little confused you looked up and felt your stomach drop. The tiles along the ceiling clearly had water stains and they looked new. 
Fearful your eyes fell to the wooden shelves that held so many of the precious printed works you swallowed. Tentatively reaching out to press a finger to one of the spines, wincing at the spongy resistance that should have been solid. “Shit.” Grabbing one of the smaller books that was drenched you hurried back towards the main area of the library to find one of the staff to let them know what you found. 
Grinning at a familiar sweater vest clad figure that had their back to you. 
“Satan!” Calling out to him and glad you’d run into him, he’d understand the problem right away. “There’s a problem under the non-fic-” The smile on his face fading at your appearance.
“Why.” Cutting you off as his eyes landed on the sodden mess in your hand, his voice frigid and his eyes seemed almost dark compared to the usual mirth they shone with. “Is that book wet?” 
You stopped for a moment looking at him in surprise. “Because there’s an entire stack that’s soake-” 
“You ruined an entire stack of books!” You flinch at the way his normally even voice seemed to boom out across the space. There’s a fury on his face that has your stomach dropping down to the floor. 
“What. No. I think there’s been a-” In a span of moments he’s right in front of you and you could have sworn it was the devil who’s name he shared instead of the sweet librarian you had a crush on.
“A mistake? There is. Letting someone like you into these hallowed halls.” His eyes seething as he stares at you while your heart hammers inside your chest and sweat starts to drip down your neck. 
“I didn’t.” You whimper the words before he cuts you off again. 
“Didn’t what?” You can’t take this sudden change in his demeanor, your vision blurry with the fluid forming along your lashes. Your stomach is nothing but knots as you shake your head, feeling your cheeks warm as you're mentally torn between being embarrassed and terrified. As well as something you refuse to name in that moment. 
“Hey, Satan!” Another worker comes to your rescue. “It looks like we’ve got a water pipe burst down in the non-fiction five hundred to six hundred. We need someone to call maintenance and shut it off before more of the books get wet.” 
It’s like watching the wraith that overtook his face wash away as he turned to you with a whisper of your name. His outburst has a crowd watching the two of you and the entire altercation. You can’t take that look on his face, not with the way you feel and the fact there’s been an audience to see and hear him treating you like dirt. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.” Slapping the ruined book against his chest as the tears finally start to fall. “Asshole.” Hissing the last word just loud enough for him to hear before you take off running out of the library. 
You’ve had enough drama today. And the worst part? When he was yelling at you your body had responded, feeling your muscles tighten and your core throb. You did not have it in you to face that you might have a kink for being yelled at. Or degraded like that. 
Back in your dorm, you curl in a ball and pass out. You just don’t have the energy to deal with what the hell just happened and the way your heart beats in your chest like it’s been broken. 
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When you come to the next morning you find an email from the student board, apparently, someone, or a few someones based on the detailed account, reported the incident. 
Great. 
You just wanted to put yesterday behind you and avoid the library for the rest of the year. So much for that. With the wording of the email you have no choice but to answer as they want to know how you want to deal with the incident and wondering if you wanted to have the employee face any potential job repercussions. That leaves a weight in your gut that makes you want to throw up at the way it’s worded.
Are you upset because of it? Yes. 
Do you want Satan to lose his job because of it? No. 
Dragging a hand down your face as you draft a response of how while you are upset at the situation and thankful that other students and faculty members reported the issue, you don’t want to take any more action than an apology. 
In truth, you want more than that because his reaction made you wonder if Satan had some anger issues he needed to sort out. Something like that in the email could still end up with him facing job loss. 
Finally checking your phone you see a message from an unknown contact. Clicking it you want to bang your head against the table. 
I had no right to say that to you. 
I understand if you never wish to speak to me again but I owe you an apology. 
I won’t make excuses for my behavior. 
However I made you feel in that moment I am deeply apologetic it wasn’t right to treat you that way. 
The date timestamp show the messages were sent a few hours after the incident, and you have one more from this morning. 
I’ve been placed on suspension. You don’t have to worry about running into me at the library for a few weeks. 
 Sighing you roll your shoulders as you start to type out a response. 
Satan
Did you seriously take my number from the student system to text me after what happened yesterday? 
That’s a bit unprofessional 
Sighing again you look at the device in your hand. You’re still upset but you don’t want to leave things hanging with neither of you knowing where you stand and possibly losing what might be a friend. 
I’m not going to say I accept your apology
You didn’t even let me answer yesterday and made me feel so small like I didn’t matter. It felt so different compared to the person that helped me out so often and reminded me when I needed to take breaks. You did a lot for me without even realizing it. 
So this time let me say it. 
I think you need a break.
Maybe once you’re back I’ll have my thoughts more in order on how I want to proceed with our friendship. 
Rubbing your face as you dropped your phone beside you before flopping back in bed, glad you had a few hours before you needed to be in class anywhere. 
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As the weeks went by you found a difference in the library when you were there. It wasn’t that anyone treated you differently compared to any other student. It was more that you realized Satan did a lot of things for you that the staff didn’t do for students. 
When you couldn’t find a book or a certain reference the staff just pointed you in the right direction or check in the system to see the status of it. Compared to Satan who wouldn’t just tell you, he’d lead you to the right stack and help you find it. All the while asking you about the reason you wanted the resource. Or more that he was making comments in that eerie way of his that he knew exactly what you were up to. It made you realize just how much Satan seemed to know about you and how much you missed his presence. 
Stupid crush. 
You really did miss him though, and the way your heart hurt inside your chest at his absence was a sign you were in a lot deeper than you should have been. 
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It was almost like a repeat of the first time you met him, minus the mad scramble on your part to try and find books. Well. 
The time was anyway. 
You’d stayed late to finish a paper, listening to your headphones while you typed away tucked in a cubical along a wall that wasn’t used very often with several books spread out across the space. Working on your closing statement to recap your thoughts when you jumped feeling a hand land on your shoulder. 
Flailing and making the worker flinch just as much, pulling one of your earbuds out to hear what the person had to say. “Sorry! It’s almost clos-ing” A hitch in a familiar voice as you turn. 
“Satan.” It tumbles from your lips and before you know it your arms are around his middle. Burying your face in one of his sweater vests. “I missed you.” 
“I um.” Feeling his hand pat your shoulder awkwardly. “I think you might be the one being unprofessional at the moment.” Realizing what you did you jumped back, missing the slightest flush on his face. 
“Sorry!” The tips of your ears feel like they’re on fire as you start to grab your things. At least until you pause remembering the series of texts after the incident. “Satan?” 
“Yes?” He’d been standing there like he was still in shock at the sudden contact. 
“I’m still not ready to forgive you for what happened.” Watching him you see him swallow and his face pale a little. Holding up your hand as his lips spread as if to interrupt you. “That doesn’t mean I’m mad, and well. I guess it’s my turn to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you an asshole.” Sending him a sheepish smile as you go back to gathering your things. 
“You should have done worse, I was an asshole.” There’s a hint of dejection in his voice, but instead of still standing there he helps you grab your things since the library is closing. 
“I guess as long as we’re clear on that.” Laughing as you slip your laptop into your bag. Except when you straighten and find the two of you essentially sharing the space, this close you see the flecks of yellow in his eyes. “I um.” Stammering as you notice the slight split in his bottom lip. 
There’s a waiver in those pretty emerald eyes before he seems to make up his mind. “In for a penny.” Feeling confused by his words and your confusion only grows as his lips connect with yours for a brief kiss that has you feeling weak in the knees. It doesn’t last long before he steps back, creating distance between the two of you. “I guess I’m being unprofessional again.” Slowly blinking you notice the pink hue across his cheeks as he tries to look down at the floor.
“Maybe a little bit.” It’s hushed like you don’t want the words to carry any farther. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t like it though.” There’s a strange little flutter in your chest when his head snaps upwards. The way his eyes widen in what you can only hope is surprise is adorable. Squeezing the strap of your bag a little tighter in your hand as you swallow, hoping the material can wick away the sweat forming on your palms.  “You are a pretty nice guy, well, when you aren’t yelling at me.” Giving a small chuckle as you step closer, certain he has to be able to hear your heart pounding inside your chest like a drum. Lifting your hand and placing it in the center of his chest with a soft caress, parting your lips about to say something more when a voice calls out. 
“Satan!” Whatever courage you had mustered up after he kissed you shrivels up and fades in an instant. 
“Yea?” With reflexes you hadn’t expected he tugs you towards the edge of the wall and places a finger to his lips before turning and taking a few steps before dissappering from your sight into the short hallway that leads to the area you’re in.
“Almost done over here? We’ve got all the tables cleaned up and the books back on their shelves.” What? Glancing at your watch you realize the two of you must have spent a lot longer than you thought just staring at one another. It’s almost half an hour after the library was supposed to close. 
“Yea, just a few more books left to put away.” Satan’s voice is back to that steady tone you’re more used to hearing from him. 
“Oh need a hand then?” 
“No.” You can just picture him shaking his head at the offer of assistance. “I can finish up here myself.” 
“Alright. Why do I get the feeling you plan on sticking around to read after we’re all gone again?” The new voice laughs as if it’s something the blond does on a regular basis.
“Books are more interesting than people.” You can just picture him shrugging in that nonchalant way of his that has his shoulders rising just enough to show that he’s a little bit broader than his figure would let you to believe. 
“Well, have a good night then, and see ya in the morning.” Listening as the other person’s footsteps start to fade away until all you can hear is your breathing and the steady thump of your heart. Only to feel it miss a beat when Satan’s head pops back around. 
“Good. I thought you might have darted down the hallway to make sure you weren’t seen.” Leaning against the wall you’re still tucked against he raises a hand to reach out towards you, only to stop with his fingertips no more than a hairs breath away from the skin of your arm. “Um… I guess maybe the moments over?” That adorable hint of blush is back on his cheeks again. 
Feeling your face warm you shake your head. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be. Just… maybe this isn’t the best place?” Rubbing your thighs together nervously, while looking away from his face and biting your lip as your nerves come back. The idea of being caught making out with Satan in his place work where a few weeks ago he’d yelled at you for something that wasn’t your fault has you thinking this isn’t the right place. Another part of you, finds the thought of it tantalizing. 
“There’s only a few other workers left.” He says it so bluntly you jolt a little as you turn back towards him, finding his face inches from yours. The longer you gaze into his eyes the faster your heart starts to pound inside your chest, banging against your ribs as if wanting to escape from the confines of your bones. Your palms grow damp again as your stomach starts to clench. 
This close you can see the pulse in his neck, the shifting of his pale skin as he swallows and his adams apple moves. As steady as his voice might be, his body is reacting as if he’s as nervous as you are. The glasses on the bridge of his nose sliding down just enough that you make out the slight perspiration on his skin. 
You snap at the same time he does, your mouths connecting in a clash of teeth. Leaning into him with your hand tangling into his hair along the side of his head while he turns. His arms frame your sides as his chest presses you more against the wall, wedged between the bland painted surface and his body. The kiss is hurried and messy, but you don’t care, all you do care about is the way your heart pounds in your eardrums as you move your lips against his. Letting your bag slip from your fingers so you can run your hand along his chest, dragging the thick material of his sweater upwards as your fingers seek out the skin of his neck. 
Panting as you part your lips, wanting to deepen the kiss. It’s almost funny that he makes a similar move as your tongues slide across each other and you can taste what you think is coffee with milk. A bitter blend that's tempered by the tiniest hint of sweetness. Moaning as his body moves impossibly closer, as if trying to occupy the same space as you forcing you more against the wall. 
This close, your core throbs with need. He’s a bit taller than you, and there’s more than just his belt buckle pressing against your stomach. The thought of it has your head swimming with the idea of him being inside your body. 
Eventually, the two of you need to break for air. He’s flushed and his pupils are blown wide, almost hiding those striking irises of his as his shoulders shake in time to his deep breathing. You doubt you look much better. Neither of you moves too far away, sweeping your nose along the underside of his chin as you try to get your heart to slow down. 
“You have” His voice is strained as he speaks, laced with desperation you don’t understand. “No idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Surprised at his admission you let out the smallest laugh that sounds more like a wheeze from your still screaming lungs. 
“Maybe. But I doubt it was before the start of the semester.” Teasing him has him letting out a chuckle as he ghosts his lips along the ridge of your cheekbone, following it to your ear before whispering lowly. 
“I’ll give you that, but it doesn’t change just how much I want you. Or how much I’ve had to control myself when talking to you instead of shoving you against the stacks and leaving you breathless.” Well, shit. If that low rasp in your ear doesn’t have your underwear starting to stick to your folds from the amount of fluid dripping from you his next words do. “Kissing you until your lungs burn while I pound my cock into you so when you cum my name is nothing but a mumbled moan that no one but me can hear. Then.” Dragging out the word with a strained breath. “I’d take you again. And Again. Until you’re a boneless incoherent mess.” 
“Damn. And here I just thought you were cute.” Trying to take away the building tension between the two of you out before your body screams to let him just do that. “Do you think that about a lot of new students?” A bad joke that doesn’t do anything to stop the thundering in your ears and the clenching of your core.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I just think those thoughts about you.” Watching his cheeks take on that cute little shade of pink that you’re starting to suspect is also partly his embarrassment makes your stomach do a strange little flip flop. 
“This is not a conversation I thought I’d be having right now.” Tilting your neck so your lips can brush along the point of his chin. “But I like it.” If how wet you feel is an indication it’s a lot more than just liking it. 
“Shit.” Hissing through his teeth you find yourself blinking in confusion. “I didn’t think you’d want me, that it was just fantasies in my head. I want you right now but I don’t have anything on me.” Letting his hands fall to his slide as he steps back, looking like he’s annoyed with himself. 
“Oh, Satan.” Chuckling you reach down to grab your bag and fish around inside one of the inner pockets. “You mean something like this?” Holding up the foil packet with a shit eating grin. 
“Do you always carry one of those around?” He has a look on his face like he isn't sure what you’re doing with a condom in your bag. 
“They say luck favors the prepared.” Teasing him a little as you lean back against the wall. “Plus, I’d rather have a condom on me and not need it, than need it and not have it. Seems like a good idea right now.” Watching that smile return to his face as he steps back into your space, kissing you again with a moan of his own as his fingers pluck the packet from your grasp. 
“Does that mean you feel like getting lucky?” Amusement in his tone as he skims his hand along your side, nipping at your lips while he waits for your answer. 
“You mean right here?” You definitely want this man, but the idea of it being against a wall doesn’t exactly keep you in the mood. 
“No. At one of those little desks, you were at earlier. No one would be able to see the middle one.” Nodding you place your weight against his body and away from the wall, trailing your hand down to the bulge in his pants and rubbing him through the material. Groaning he lets you keep palming at his cock as his hands land on your shoulders to guide you to the space, sitting down on one of the chairs and patting his lap for you to crawl on top of him. “Next time I’ll do you in the stacks, but for now I’d rather we both enjoy it sitting.” If it’s possible he seems nervous, not that you aren’t as you lick your lips before letting your weight settle. 
An experimental roll of your hips has both of you making some choked noises. The fire in your core is starting to make you sweat, and you just wanna feel him inside of you. “Satan?” Whispering against the shell of his ear with your hands resting on his shoulders, liking the feel of his lean form under your palms. 
“Yes?” A catch in his voice as he says your name with a longing you hadn’t expected. 
“I don’t want a build up, I just wanna feel you inside me. Please.” Whining low in your throat as you admit exactly what you want. 
“Asking like that just makes me wanna give into you.” Agreeing as he uses his hands to lift your hips upwards. “We’ll save that for next time.” Next time. It makes your core clench tighter as you step back and work the button on your jeans open and slide the zipper down before shimming the material of your bottoms and underwear down to your ankles. 
Glancing back to Satan and swallowing. His belt is undone along with his pants, pushed down to his knees with his cock in his hand as he strokes himself slowly from base to tip. It’s not the first dick you’ve seen, you’re not a virgin but you’ve only been with two other people as you tried things. Curious about how sex felt. But looking at him and the curve of his shaft already wrapped in the condom and how long he is you feel your walls clench and a dribble of liquid along the skin of your pussy. 
“We can stop if you want.” He must have taken you not moving as hesitation. Shaking your head before you shuffle closer and sit on his lap with your legs straddling his. 
“No. I want this.” Licking your lips as you place your hand over his chest and above his heart. “I want you.” Leaning in with a gentle kiss that’s more feeling than movement. Sliding your hands upwards to his shoulders you lift your hips up just enough so he can guide the head of his cock to your slick core. “Do you wanna stop?” 
“No.” That edge of certainly is back and once you feel the tip breach your sex you start to lower your body down, letting more of his length disappear inside your walls. 
“Sa-tan” Gasping as you tilt your head back, the burn from the slight stretch adding to your pleasure as his shaft reaches into the deepest part of you. Your butt cheeks clenching as you try to tighten even more around him, like your pussy wants to drag out that sensation of your walls being pushed to the point of pain as long as possible. 
“Fuck you feel good.” Hissing through his teeth as his hands settle on your hips to help you ease more of your weight down on him. A single drop of sweat trails down the side of his face as he watches you, savoring your expressions and storing them away in his memory for when he needs release and he only has his hand to work with. “Such a tight cunt.” Clenching around him like a vice while lightning races along your spine. Making a small noise of discomfort when his tip hits what you think is your cervix. “Easy, don’t hurt yourself.” His voice is soft through his clenched teeth as one of his hands sweeps across the skin of your hip before climbing a little higher under your shirt.
Nodding as you try to breathe through your nose, shit, you’re almost ready to cum just from having his cock in your pussy. Throbbing inside of you to the time of his heartbeat, the stretch making you pant as sweat has your shirt clinging to your back. “Kiss me.” It’s more like a command than a request, but Satan complies none the less. Lifting the hand that had been tracing patterns into the skin of your stomach to the back of your head to pull you closer. Letting him have control of your mouth and distracting you so your body relaxes, because you want to ride him instead of just coming undone from him being in your cunt. 
It’s like he can sense it, sliding his tongue around the inside of your mouth as is mapping it for memory. Keeping his fingers tangled in your hair and doing his best not to cum himself. As much as Satan might have fantasized about this moment, he never thought it would happen, having you here right now stuff to the brim with him was making him want to throw you on top of the desk and buck into you like a wild animal trying to breed. No. He needs you to feel safe around him again before snapping his hips into you like he wants to break you, so make it so your body craves his the way he craves you. Humming when he feels that tight channel wrapped around his shaft loosen. 
As the burning in your core starts to subside you lean back to break the kiss, placing your hands more firmly on his shoulders to steady yourself. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to cuming just from being penetrated.” Whispering the words as if sharing a secret before you start to gently ride him, focusing on the way his cock slides in and out of your walls. The way some of the veins along the underside brush against bundles of nerves that has you breathing deeper and freezing from the sensation. 
“If it helps” his voice is strained and the blush on his cheeks has spread to his neck and ears. “The last time I was this close so quickly was my first time.” Its so earnest you can’t help but slide your fingers along the nap of his neck as you close the distance for another kiss, starting to ride him a little faster now. 
Sliding your tongues together and breathing through your nose as you keep increasing the pace, moaning as his both of his hands are back on your hips. Helping guide you and keep you in place as you slide up and down his shaft from tip to base, feeling that coil in your belly growing tighter and tighter. All you can hear is the sound of wet slapping, moaning more into his mouth as he starts to buck up into you from the chair. 
Mewling against his face when you break the kiss, barely any space between your lips as you pant and whine hovering at that edge. “Satan.” It’s a breathless call of his name as you let out another whine, you’re so close. 
“I’ve got you.” Whispered against your face you feel his rapid exhales wash against your sweat slicked skin before you let out a strangled cry as you cum. All thanks to his fingers pinching your clit when his cock was balls deep inside you, moments later a grunt that might have been your name before Satan slams his mouth against yours. 
Slumping into his body as your core keeps spasms around him, his balls pumping more and more of his seed into the thin barrier of the condom that serves as a divider between your sexes. 
When you come down from your high you let out a soft little laugh as you lean your forehead against his. “That was fun.” 
“It was. I’d like to do it again.” Licking his lips as he gives one of your asscheeks a squeeze, liking the way it feels in his hand. “But I’d rather us both fully naked and on a bed.” 
“I live in the dorms.” Lifting your head with a smirk. “And didn’t you say next time would be in the stacks?” 
“I don’t consider this time over yet.” Catching your mouth in another quick kiss. “My place it is then.” Helping you off him before his cock softens too much as you swallow at the amount of cum inside the condom. Shit. You can already feel your body warming at the thought of another round. “Oh, and I’ve got condoms at my apartment.” 
“Then lead the way, Mr. Librarian.” Pulling your pants on and discreetly licking your lips. You like the idea of sucking him off and swallowing a massive load like that down your throat. “Does that mean I’m better than your books?” 
The answer is a laugh that makes you grin from ear to ear. It’s the start of an interesting relationship with the man that’s for sure. 
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Obey me Masterlist
132 notes · View notes
ewyuzu · 1 day
Text
cold distance
toji fushiguro x reader
warning: contains emotional conflict and themes of abandonment.
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you sit at the edge of the bed, your fingers nervously tracing the hem of your shirt as you wait for toji to come back. the apartment feels colder when he’s not around, the silence heavy and unsettling. you hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. but instead of relief, all you feel is a knot tightening in your chest. he’s been gone for days—no call, no text, no sign of life.
he strolls in, as casual as ever, tossing his jacket onto the couch without so much as a glance in your direction. his hair is slightly dishevelled, and there’s a faint bruise on his jaw, but he acts like nothing’s wrong, like this is normal.
“you’re late again,” you say quietly, not wanting your voice to shake, but the frustration is hard to hide.
toji barely spares you a glance, his tone dismissive. “got caught up. not a big deal.”
you swallow hard, feeling the familiar anger rise up inside you. it’s always like this—he comes back late, no explanation, and expects you to just accept it. for once, you can’t. “it is a big deal,” you snap, standing up, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. “you disappear for days, and i have no idea if you’re even alive. and when you finally show up, you act like nothing happened.”
he arches a brow, his expression indifferent. “i told you before, this is how it is. if you can’t handle it, maybe you’re not cut out for this.”
his words sting more than you want to admit, but you can’t let him brush you off like that. “it’s not just about handling it, toji. you make everything else your priority—your jobs, your survival, even your past. but what about us? what about me?” your voice is trembling now, but you push through, needing him to understand.
he lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark hair. “i’ve told you from the start, i’m not the kind of guy who sits around and plays house. this is what i do. it’s how i survive.”
“and what about your son?” the words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and you immediately see his expression change. his eyes darken, and his posture stiffens. you know you’ve hit a nerve, but you can’t stop now. “you don’t just push me aside, you push everyone away. including him. don’t you even care about him?”
toji’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. the tension between you both thickens, the air heavy with unspoken words. when he finally speaks, his voice is low and controlled, but there’s an edge to it. “that’s none of your business.”
“it is my business,” you insist, taking a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “he’s your son, toji. and you act like he doesn’t even exist. how can you just ignore that?”
his eyes flash with something—anger, maybe, or guilt—but he doesn’t let it show. instead, he scoffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “you don’t know anything about it. about me, or him. so stop acting like you do.”
“then tell me,” you plead, your voice softer now, more desperate. “tell me why you’re so distant, why you shut everyone out. why you act like you don’t care.”
toji’s gaze hardens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to walk away, like he always does when things get too real. but instead, he steps closer, his presence looming over you. “i care about what i need to survive. that’s it. if you’re expecting more than that, you’re wasting your time.”
his words hit you like a punch to the gut. you can feel your chest tighten, your breath catching in your throat. you’ve known from the start that toji isn’t the type to open up easily, but hearing him say it so bluntly, so coldly, feels like a slap in the face.
“so that’s it?” you ask quietly, blinking back the sting of tears. “everything else comes second, including me?”
toji doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you, really looks at you for the first time since he walked in. there’s something in his eyes—something raw, something he’s trying to bury deep. but it’s fleeting, gone in an instant as he shrugs. “i’ve never promised you anything different.”
your heart sinks, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy stone. you don’t know what you expected—maybe some kind of reassurance, some sign that he does care, that you mean something to him. but all you’re left with is this cold, hard truth.
“i can’t keep doing this,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “i can’t keep waiting around, hoping you’ll change. i deserve more than that.”
toji’s jaw clenches, and for a split second, you think you see a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or hesitation. but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. he doesn’t try to stop you as you turn away, walking towards the door, your chest heavy with the weight of your decision.
just as your hand reaches the doorknob, his voice breaks the silence. “you don’t need me. you’ll be fine.”
you pause, your heart aching at the sound of his voice, at the emptiness in his words. you want to turn around, to see if he’s really as detached as he sounds. but you don’t. instead, you nod, even though he can’t see it, and open the door.
“maybe it’s you who needs to realise that,” you whisper, stepping out into the cold night, leaving him behind.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 days
Text
just a man
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Synopsis: on the night of Shibuya, Kusakabe wrestles with his obligation to aid his fellow sorcerers and risk his life. Normally the pretty bartender that he and Kento both like to share after hours, he decides to visit you alone before he does. Spinoff of a drabble I made.
Words: 6.1k 🖤
CW: MINORS DNI, XFEM!READER, SMUT(P IN V, SEMI PUBLIC PDA (ELEVATOR) FINGERING, CUM EATING, DOGGY STYLE, BREAST & NIPPLE PLAY, SPANK, ROUGH SEX, ORAL F RECEIVING) DANGER, LITTLE ANGST, CANON DIVERGENCE, MIGHT BE SPOILERS
A/n: yes, this is a repost. Since the original failed to show in the tags. Trying to see if this will get more interaction. Thank you for reading if this is your first time 🫶🏽 and my deepest most gracious thank you to those who did already read and reblog and comment.
@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer
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The dampened streets of Shinjuku are far from asleep despite the nighttime wandering into the darkened hours past midnight.
A chill laced with something ominous in the late petrichor-ridden air of October delivered a rush of restlessness throughout Atsuya Kusakabe's body as he stared into the night, the illuminating residual of neon signs painting a a rosy halo around his form.
His darkened eyes solemnly scan the crowds of young passerbys donning their eclectic outfits in light of the Halloween holiday, joyfully ignorant to the heavy knowledge he possessed of a greater storm that was brewing in the district of Tokyo just south of where he stood.
He got the call, he just didn't want to go. Truthfully, why was he needed when other first grade sorcerers such as the likes of Kento Nanami were already there?
There was something different about tonight's mission. He could feel it. He spent his whole life running from things that seemed so big and insurmountable. Yet he chose a life that regularly brushed elbows with danger.
The modern pressures of life can cause one to make choices uncharacteristic of them in the name of survival.
He was being selfish, but was wanting to stay alive really a selfish thing to want? Or was it a wise and sensible thing to hope for?
Jujutsu Sorcery didn't need to be this big dramatic display of self-sacrifice all the time. Chasing nobility in hopes of carrying the outward label of martyr while you wouldn't even be alive to see it was a fool's errand in his eyes. But it clashed with the institution he committed to whose sole mission was to produce sorcerers capable of such selfless acts to serve the non-sorcerer sphere of humankind.
What kind of hypocrite would he be if he failed to show up for the battle he'd beaten every last lesson in the book of preparedness into the mind of his students?
Before he joins them, he figures he'll make one more stop.
It might be the last time after all, experiencing that divine warmth your eyes exuded that made moments feel like a lifetime. Temporary solace he sought somewhere at the bottom of a glass and between the smoky haze and sensual opulence of an upscale bar past midnight.
Pretty eyes and a mouth that dripped salvation onto his throbbing cock in between sheets that smelled like you and him, delivering him to a heaven on Earth even better than the one in the clouds, one where jujutsu didn't exist.
He just wanted to feel like a man one more time. He would walk the formidable road of danger that was expected of him, but he'd do it on his own terms and at his own leisure.
It was his life, after all. Who could blame him?
He turned and made his way down the alley of Shinjuku suited for self pleasure and indulgence, ironically in the opposite direction of the selfless weight of the noble duty that called him.
------
Kusakabe stepped inside to be greeted with the familiar atmosphere of the lavish art deco styled speakeasy where you worked. It was one of many spots in the district where upper classes came to unwind, the motivation of tonight propelled by the autumnal festivities after dark.
The air hung heavy with allure and old money swank that was brought out by worldly imbibement and blackened clouds of burning tobacco from expensive cigars, smooth jazz, clinks of glass and murmured speech, occasionally interrupted with hearty belly laughter coming from certain patrons.
Dim booths that felt mobby with men in fine linen suits, running their gold adorned fingers over the suggestive hosiery of their female companionship. Intimate secrets whispered in ears and lustful gazes over lipstick stained glass rims.
"Hey, darlin...aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"
You hear his deep, rough voice behind you. You turn gracefully, flashing the handsome acquaintance that disarming smile of yours, noticing his usual, equally handsome companion was not with him.
"Hiya, Kusa! Just you tonight?"
"Just me tonight, doll..." Rugged charm oozes out of his expression, sitting on one of the bar stools directly across from you, a masculine spice gently wafting from him as he opens his coat, stripping it off and handing it to a passing butler who bows and promptly walks away. "Hope that's alright."
"It's more than alright, handsome." You touch his arm and his heart flutters. "Be right back, okay?"
He feels a swell of pride to his ego and he smirks. "Take your time, angel, but don't keep me waiting long, ya hear?"
"I won't, Kusa." You flirtatiously pout your lips.
He looks at you fondly and sits back in his chair as he raises the fresh glass of bourbon to his lips, those oaky eyes lingering on your form as you float away into the haze of smoke and the low enchanting light of the ritzy air of tonight as he loosens his tie.
----
Hours later, he beckons you closer when it appears you have a minute to spare and the initial buzz of the night has started to burn out, having graduated to a darker corner of the bar accented by the elegant polished mahogany.
He's clearly in the mood to flirt which you can place immediately with the way he's leaning towards you and how his eyes possess a gleam of playfulness.
But, he wasn't going to be a dick about it. He turns his considerate attention towards you to inquire about your current state,
"How's your week been, sweetheart?" He asks, honey dripping from his voice.
Your lips curl upwards and he all but fails to remove his hungry gaze from the inviting way your gloss makes them look so plump.
"My week has been alright, thank you for asking, Kusa. But a little tiring if I'm honest."
"Mm? Tell me about it."
He can't help but notice you seem a little guarded, as though you were carrying it in your shoulders, keeping him at arms length. He knew from the stiff curve of your smile that you weren't letting him all the way in.
He studies you, tilting his head. "I don't bite, y'know doll..."
You shake your head, scrunching your nose in false coy as you wipe down the bar, "I know you don't, handsome...." Your eyes sharpen briefly as you focus on a stubborn spot.
"....just not used to seeing you here without Kento."
Ah, of course, Kento.
"Heh...you do have a special liking for Kento, don't ya, sweetheart?" He inquiries light-heartedly, raising his glass to his lips.
You shrug, although the shy expression and the warmth you feel in your cheeks gives you away.
"Maybe, I mean, he's very sweet. And handsome..."
Kusakabe smirks while clapping a hand against his chest in feigned offense,
"What 'bout me, doll? I'm not?"
You unseriously roll your eyes as you crack your bar rag against the polished wood before tossing it into the soiled bucket underneath.
"No! Of course you are, Kusa..." You lean in with a sunny smile, your fingers dance along his forearm before you give it a squeeze.
He feels his heart patter in his chest but he disguises it with another smirk,
"M'just giving ya a hard time, doll. I apologize..."
He takes another long sip of his drink, ice cubes leaving his thin lips wet with bourbon as he sighs.
It was no secret that women loved Kento, and you were no exception. Truth was, he was used to being compared to him, but he gave up long ago trying to fill the shoes of Kento Nanami, both in their pursuits as sorcerers and in courting women.
But, despite the sinful arrangement of sharing a pretty woman like you after hours with Kento (that he considered all good in fair fun), sometimes after the heat died down and the throes of passion became more crystal clear as you laid sandwiched between him and his comrade, he found himself falling asleep wondering what it would be like if he had you all to himself.
He eyes you pensively before he looks down, fishing out a fresh lollipop from his pocket and unwrapping it.
"I am a little rough with ya, aren't I?" He sticks the pink lemonade flavored sucker in his mouth.
You grin again, looking down as though the motion could keep the internal fluster at bay.
"I mean, I don't mind that, it's just that he's..."
"More gentle?" He asks, leaning in a little closer to you, moving the stick of the lollipop to the other side of his mouth with smooth intrigue. The soft manner of his question throws you for a loop as you gaze back at him.
There's something curious in his eyes that you haven't seen from him before.
He places his hand on top of yours.
It somehow felt more intimate despite the fact he's explored the deepest parts of you, and seen your face as he and his friend delivered you to heaven countless times before.
"I can be gentle, too, doll..."
He whispers. He notices goosebumps raise on your arm above where he's tracing broad shapes with his thumb on the back of your hand.
Your pretty lips gently part, your bottom lip catching on the tempting shine of your lip gloss.
Kusakabe groans, the heat traveling swiftly in his body and down to his pants.
He has you right where he wants you and he prays you'll stay with him tonight.
"I could show you..." He smiles. "How 'bout I take you somewhere after this, beautiful?"
He notes your slight hesitation. Somehow it felt a little more intimidating knowing it was just him this time. Keeping in mind the rough sex he preferred made you feel slightly weary, since you were used to Kento's gentle and more giving touch to balance it out.
But, here he was promising to show you a good time with just him, and if sweet and slow was what you wanted, he'd give it to you.
"Promise I'll take good care of ya, doll..." He reassures. "You'll be safe with me. We'll go at your pace and if you wanna stop, we'll stop."
You smile and can't help but feel the warmth trickling through your shoulders, the soft way he's looking at you, a man with a gruff shell gazing at you like you're an ethereal goddess sprawled from the sea whom he's cajoling from the cerulean curtains of ocean foam to meet land for the first time.
Asking you like he's only barely allowed to breathe in your presence despite bedding you several times before, and the dark, enchanting brown of his eyes only adds to the flame.
You can't say no to him.
You smile with silent confirmation, and he grins, bringing the back of your hand against his mouth,
"You're an angel, sweetheart, thank you... I'll be waiting out front for ya."
"Okay Kusa, I just need to cash out my drawer but I'll be right there!"
"Course, baby. Take your time. I'll be right outside." He gives you one more charming smile before he retrieves his coat, leaving your mind reeling above the clouds.
----
The hotel lobby is equally stuffy but it's heavy and sensual, mirroring the opulence of the speakeasy you just came from, maintaining this area of Shinjuku's reputation for catering to those donning white collars in the upper ranks of wealth.
A couple patrons sit at the bar, cigarette smoke in casual clouds dusting the high embossed gold of the marble ceilings, dull candlelight and vintage luxury on jade velvet couches, tall palm leaves in obsidian pots and dry martinis swirling against the translucent glass as they spoke in low voices.
Kusakabe has you tucked under his arm, his fingers barely ghosting the curve of your ass as his hand sits low on the soft flesh of your hip.
"You wearin that new set Kento and I bought ya, angel...?" His fingers tease along your collarbone.
Your skin prickles with goosebumps and your stomach twists with the promise of what's to come. "Yes, Kusa..."
"Good girl...gonna have to keep it on when I'm going down on ya, sweetheart..."
His husky murmurings in intimate volume only you can hear emulsifies your insides into honey as he slowly stokes the flame, getting you nice and warmed up.
"So pretty, doll. You're always so stunning."
His lips brush the shell of your ear as soon the elevator doors close. You turn to him with heavy lidded eyes and your lips crash together in a frenzy of pent up lust.
He groans into the kiss, his tongue exploring the glossy seam of your lips before you open them and he prods inside with steady, building intention and want. He explores carefully while clutching both sides of your neck tenderly, the whiskey lending itself to his movements, slightly sloppy but somehow it made things even more steamy between you as you drowned in the spicy taste of bourbon with undertones of the sweet pink lemonade sucker weaved in his mouth.
You feel his palms slide under the hem of your shirt, gently replacing it with the subtle chill from his skin sliding up your stomach until both hands come to reside on the soft mounds of your breasts, greeting them with deliberate, teasing swipes of his thumbs over your responsive nipples, leaving a column of goosebumps shooting up your spine as it arched.
Your eyes roll back at the sensual feeling of his growing cock through his pants as he softly ruts his hips against you.
You two stay locked like that for several steamy moments accentuated by the exaggerated pants into each other's mouths as you hump one another in the quiet elevator, his forehead rests against yours, jaw slack as he watches you melt underneath his hands, the epicenter of pleasure radiating from how he's groping your breasts and rubbing his hips against your ass in just the right way that it carries such irresistible preview of the fervor and passion he promised to fuck you with for real as soon as the door to your suite closed behind you.
Without warning, his hand wanders to your sex, his molten gaze remains locked on you. You whine loudly and suck in air between your teeth.
"Fuck..." He hisses as he feels his cock elongate all at once, strained under the confines of his pants. You wiggle for a moment in his grasp, trying to align the pressure of his hand with your throbbing clit. The delicious discovery of which you announce with another trembling moan.
"Kusa..." You feebly whisper, the publicity of the sexy act, dwindling time of the elevator's ascent before it reaches your floor, and the union of friction between Kusakabe's skilled hand and your clit place you in serious danger of cumming for him in your pants.
"Hold on f'me, angel..." The corner of his mouth twitches with satisfaction.
"Kusa, please..."
"I know doll...." He kisses your throat. "Just teasin ya for a bit..."
"Kusa, slow..."
"I know, doll, I remember..."
You jaw falls open as a low purr escapes your throat, the ending accentuated by a whine as his finger moves at a coaxing tempo.
"Nice...n' slow..." He whispers, his words rolling off his tongue in devastating synchronization of his movements over your clit, before two of his fingers slip beautifully inside you with a deep moan.
Just as you thought you were beginning to bloom, he withdraws his hand swiftly and stuffs it in his pocket, the movement and quick emptiness making you wobble on your feet.
He catches you with his other arm, pulling you against him as the doors slide open with a ding. An older couple nods politely as they step in, seemingly unfazed by your clearly disheveled clothes and wild eyed expression.
Kusakabe merely smirks as he guides you out of the elevator and down the hall to your awaiting room.
-----
You can't help but sigh deeply as your lips connect with Kusakabe's again.
This felt divine after a long day. He could feel his worries dissipate and dissolve into the air that began to hang heavily around you, not allowing his lips to disconnect from yours even for a second as he removed his coat, stripping yours off you with careful precision, the sensual sound of the fabric hitting the floor.
You were plunging headfirst into a sea that swallowed you whole completely, lost to the tides of lust.
As your head hits the pillow of the king sized bed, you weave your fingers in the loops of his belt to occupy your hands while he quicky moved to unbutton your shirt. You shivered as you felt the fleeting graze of his fingers against your breasts that were slowly becoming revealed to him. Your sudden movement interrupts his trance, briefly, only to remember the promise he made you earlier.
"Sorry, doll..." He murmurs, his wet lips move to the corner of your mouth as he gently circulates his hands that contain your soft breasts in them in wordless appreciation. "...this still okay?"
"Mhmm...." You weakly mewl out, all sense of your surroundings trickle down the drain when he begins fondling your tits, struggling to maintain control over the volume of your moans, "Tha-that'so good, Kusa...hard to be quiet when it feels so good..."
"Fuck em..." He groans as you arch your back. "Keep moanin for me like that, angel..."
Kusakabe closes his eyes, both your foreheads resting against one another as though he could absorb your warmth. Your little pants and whimpers egg him on as he plays with your breasts but he remains chained to his word to take things slow.
"Kusaaa...."
But that particular breathy utterance of his name that fell from your lips causes him to dip his head down, his hands guiding your bra straps down to easily move the lacey cups as he took your left breast in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing and your head gently rolling back as his tongue slowly lapped at your nipple.
Your hand flies to his bulge, massaging and feeling him up through his slacks. Another groan rumbles in his chest, the deep pitch prompting you quickly to clench your thighs. You sigh when his mouth departs your left breast, leaving the nipple perky with a wet pucker and sloppy kiss, moving to the right.
His eyes flicker up and remain trained on you every so often. Watching you slowly be reduced to putty little by little with every warm, wet brush of his tongue, bathing your breasts in worship with his wanton mouth.
You begin to grow impatient, your weeping cunt desperately begging to be full of him, the heated foreplay giving you more than enough preparation to take him, but he continues loving on you like this without pause for several heavenly minutes.
"Kusa, baby...can't take it...need your cock, Kusa..."
"Mhhnnn.....hold on, doll...I've still gotta taste ya..."
Kusakabe's fingers trail to your black skirt, greeting the plush of your stomach with a kiss. "This okay?" He checks in gently again. You nod and he slides off your skirt and pantyhose, leaving the deep emerald lace of the panties he bought for you exposed to his hungry eyes.
"God, you're something..." He whispers.
"So are you, Kusa..."
"Oh yeah?" He purrs, running a finger along the sheer fabric that only scantily hid your wetting sex away from him as he wet his lips. He unbuttons his shirt, dipping his head down before slowly inhaling your scent.
"What am I, angel?"
You feel the pad of his thumb hook underneath the gusset.
"You're...."
A moan is ripped out of your throat the minute his tongue teases the outer delicate flesh of your pussy. "Kusa..."
"Go on, baby..." He teases a kiss to the soft mound.
"You're...so good..." Your toes curl as his tongue glides between your arousal dripped folds. "Ohhhh you're so fucking sexy, Atsuya..."
"Ffffuck me doll..." He turns you on your stomach. "You can say my name like that all night long."
He removes his shirt completely, pulls your panties to the right and leans in, kissing and kneading the tender fat. One of his hands frees his aching cock.
"Atsuya....mmm, Atsuya..."
"Such a gorgeous ass..." He groans, moving the panties slightly as he frees and slides his cock between your asscheeks, loving how the globes envelope around it, the second best thing he loved seeing wrapped around his cock, besides the warm silky walls of your cunt.
"Gotta be my favorite part of you, angel..." He leans over, swirling his tongue against your shoulder blade before punctuating it with a tender kiss, blazing a long trail down your spine, provoking you to arch for him again.
Kusakabe groans at your responsiveness and bestowing him the beautiful sight of your ass in the air again. When he reaches the bottom, he gives he gives your asscheek another tender squeeze in preparation.
"Relax for me, doll..."
The hinge in your jaw slowly unravels, going slack completely as Kusakabe begins eating your pussy from the back. You feel his nose push against the slit, completely and shamelessly coating his face with your arousal. His tongue wettens the seam of your folds, exploring them like a paintbrush against a canvas. You let yourself grind on his tongue, the languid laps of him stroking your sensitive flesh making you ache for the sweet stretch of his cock, settling for the sensation of his nose brushing the sides of your clit instead. He groans and you feel the low purr reverberate against your pussy and you respond to the delectable sensation by sticking your ass even more into his face.
Somehow the fact that he was tongue fucking you while just pulling your panties to the side made it even sexier.
"Christ, babydoll..." He chuckles huskily. "You're soakin f'me..."
"Atsuya, baby..."
"Ohh...angel. M'right here..." He senses your body moving closer to the edge, as he has several times. He moves his tongue quicker, moving his hand to start pressing on your clit. The pad of his index finger was doused immediately in the slick, producing a breathy cry from your lungs, your legs twitching as he hangs you on the edge of sweet release, massaging the tender nub as it grew puffier from the stimulation.
"Atsuya! "You whine. "F-fuck me please, oh please!"
"Mmmm...gotta cum f'me first..." He leans over you, licking the shell of your ear while his finger gently toys with your clit. "That's it, thaat's it. Lemme have it, doll..."
He kisses your shoulder. "Cum on my fingers, babygirl..."
Your fingers dig into the pillow as you gush on his hand. He chuckles softly, bringing his hand to his mouth, the lewd sound of his fingers popping from his cheeks as he tastes your love.
"Here, lookit me, angel..." He gently turns your chin with his other hand, barely prodding his fingers against the seam of your soft lips. "Taste yourself..."
You groan, drunk off the haze of post orgasm bliss as you taste his fingers, letting your tongue lick all over them and saliva dribble out of the corners of your mouth like a cock hungry slut.
"Mmm..." you purr with heavy eyelids. "So yummy, Kusa..."
His cock twitches, a generous bead of precum leaking from the tip. He kisses your temple.
"So gorgeous doll, such a perfect, naughty girl f'me..."
A whine halfway squeezes out, getting caught in your throat as you feel him discard your panties completely before he begins to swirl the broad tip of his cock at your weeping entrance and you hear the sound of his trousers falling completely on the floor behind you.
"Kusa..." You bite your lip. "Make love to me..."
"I will beautiful..." He purrs, leaning in and nuzzling his face against your ear. "Kiss me, angel..."
You lips meet and you groan when more of your lingering taste in his mouth melts onto your tongue. He kisses you deeply as his cock begins to delve into your warm cunt from behind. You pant slightly into the kiss as you feel him stretch you. Your velvet walls hugging his cock, slowly sucking him in.
"S'alright..." He breathes into your mouth. "S'alright doll..." He kisses you softly, sloppily, more deeply to distract you from his size.
"Doin so good....so good, pretty..." He coos roughly.
You feel yourself surrender little by little, the ridged, sinful feeling of the veins of his cock massaging your plush walls, delivering euphoria from the heavenly friction. You released a breathy moan in tandem with the husky grunt he makes in your ear when he eventually bottoms out inside of you.
He pauses and you feel the generous length twitch, making you bite your lip. He sits up a bit, reverently, admiring the sight of himself buried deeply into you from behind.
Your beautiful ass all spread out in front of him, pussy molded to his cock like it was meant for him. Like this was truly the first time he was giving himself to you. The other times before paling in comparison to this exclusive moment with you, all to himself.
He groans and runs his palms over the expanse of your ass, cementing the image in his psyche permanently before leaving a couple small kisses on your lower back.
"M'gonna start moving, doll..." He whispers, interlacing his fingers in between yours on the pillow.
You feel his chest press into your back as his hips retreat slightly. A quiet, filthy squelch from the buildup of arousal around the base, before he rapidly presses his cock back inside you in one deep fell swoop with a wet plop.
"Mmm...Kusa..." You moan as he feeds you stroke, after slow stroke. The prolonged time between thrusts, the increased drag of his cock carried promise that was quickly fulfilled so deliciously and deeply with each time he thrust inside you. The tempo was smooth, soft. It was erotically intimate, his lips brushing your ear, cradling your chin in his hand while he slowly fucked you.
"Fuck...fuck.....mnnnnhhh...baby, grippin' me so tight..."
You let his presence overpower you, nothing in this moment besides being under this man, this rugged, fine man showing a side of himself that surely had your mind and body falling for him, and letting him fuck you deeply with his cock.
"So damn beautiful....so pretty..." He gently grips your throat.
You feel yourself dripping, your pussy hungrier for more connection, more intensity as the pleasure began to flood you from the inside.
"H-Harder, Kusa..."
Kusakabe groans, tapering into a breathy chuckle as he scoffed.
"Wanted it nice n'slow all night, n'now you're wantin' me to go rough on ya, doll?"
He teases as he nibbles your ear, the slow pumps of his cock unrelenting, until he gives one abrupt, sharp thrust that sets every nerve on fire and brain fogged with euphoria.
"Ohhhhh.....God yes...yes Kusa... harder....faster...please!"
He moans deeply, his hips picking up the pace. When you begged so sweetly for him, he couldn't do anything but say no.
"Shit, baby...." His fingers press into your cheek, bringing your face closer to his, his hoarse pants in your ear as he drilled his cock into you from behind.
"Gonna be real hard to last much longer if you keep beggin..."
His thumb slips into your mouth and you moan graciously. The new pace felt heavenly but you needed more. More rough, more dirty. Moving past taking things slow and soft to just having him absolutely fuck all sense out of you.
"Harder, Kusa..."
And a switch goes off, taking the liberty of reverting back to his usual style of rough and fast, but with no shortage of passion and pleasure as he wound his fingers tightly into your hair, using his other hand to grip your hip and pull you into his feverish thrusts.
Your asscheeks clap together as he pounds your pussy into the mattress, moving from keeping his hands in your hair and his lips brushing your ear to sitting back on his heels, pressing your cheek into the mattress with a hand on the back of your neck and fucking you at a harsher angle.
You moan and pant loudly releasing an unending chant of his name, "Kusa....fuck Kusa....so good, so good..."
"Fuck..." He smacks your ass, his chest coated in a sheen of sweat as he sits back like a king, watching his slick covered cock slide rapidly in and out of your soaked pussy, the entire length disappearing and nearly completely pulling out before abruptly driving back into you.
"Keep taking my cock beautiful.... that's it, thaaat's it." He closes his eyes, tossing his head back momentarily as he senses his release right around the corner.
"Gonna paint this gorgeous ass all over with my cum..." He leans in. "You want that don't you, doll...? Tell me you want it..."
He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, his thrusts slowing down considerably but the length of each stroke remaining long and agonizingly deep, nearly reaching your cervix every time with every deep roll of his hips.
"Want it Kusa...want your cum..."
"Say you want me..." He whispers.
"I want you, Atsuya. Fuck me so good and cum just for me, please, baby..."
"Jesus... FUCK!"
He pulls out quickly, grunting as his hand grips his shaft, coaxing long generous ropes of milky white cum all over your ass and lower back, his voice hoarse as he pants with exhaustion.
You stay there, frozen, numbly, panting as well as you untangle from the throes of pleasure.
"Hold on, doll..." Kusakabe gets up, flashing a very pleasant view of his back and cute backside, a scar here and there imprinted in between the ridges of muscle.
He returns with a towel, wiping up his cum and then kissing your shoulder before he climbs into bed with you, running a hand through his hair as he pulls you into his chest.
"Here..." He gestures for you to sit up, unclasping your lacey bra that had remained on during the entire time, both of you sighing deeply as your bare skin met in sensual bliss underneath the sheets.
"Much better..." You say softly, closing your eyes.
Kusakabe smiles tenderly at you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "You're too good to me, sweetheart." He sighs again as his nails brush your upper arm in haphazard circles. "Thank you."
"Anytime, Kusa." You look up at him and smile sweetly, a playful look in your eye that says the late hour hasn't gotten to you just yet.
He hums, drinking in your features, a finger winding its way amidst a stray piece of hair framing your face. As his mind becomes less clouded, he remembers his obligations in Shibuya and his phone in his pocket that must have dozens of notifications by now, a subtle feeling of dread beginning to assemble in his lower belly.
He wished he could shatter time.
You look up at him, taking in his warm irises, his musk that remained subtly laced in his aftershave, his sharp jaw. You could sense a shift, a hidden disquieting energy simmering in his silence.
"You okay, Atsuya?"
He looks at you balancing your chin on his shoulder, a pleasant expression tugging at his mouth at the pretty sight of you staring up at him.
"Yeah..." He leans in kissing you. "Yeah, m’alright, doll, you? Ya tired?"
"Good..." You murmur, pausing with your eyes closed after his lips retreated a short distance from yours, gently shaking your head. "I'm okay. Do you have to go tonight, Kusa…?”
Kusakabe sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as you asked him a question he still did not have a concrete answer to.
"I might...but the room's booked for the night as always, you're welcome to stay..."
He looks down at you, a bit of concern in his eyes at the sight of your slight disappointment at his answer.
Not wanting you to feel used, he tries to reassure you.
"But I'm in no rush..." He gives you a warm smile, gently squeezing your inner thighs. "You're not ready to get some sleep yet?"
"No..." a playfulness marks your pupils which Kusakabe picks up the underlying implications immediately. "I could lose another hour, or two."
"Could you now?" Kusakabe's eyebrows crinkle with mischief, shoving thoughts of Shibuya aside once he had something much less grim, much more lovelier, much more intimate, enticing, and alluring beckoning for his attention once again.
"Mhmm.." a faint smirk begins to curl on your lips.
"That's good.." Kusakabe whispers.
You moan weakly as he lets your thighs fall open and he begins softly rubbing your clit once again, his lips brushing your ear.
"Cause right now, I have all the time in the world."
-----
Your eyes close and flicker open quickly, the disorient of sleep confusing you momentarily, realizing that at least a couple hours must have passed despite the seeming blink of an eye.
A little bit of disappointment creeps onto your face when you see Kusakabe silently dressing, pulling his white dress shirt over his broad bare shoulders that outlined against the faint glow of empire city lights behind the drawn silk curtains.
"Where are you going, Kusa?"
He is alerted to your awake state, sighs, and turns as he manages a smile.
"Gotta take care of some business in Shibuya, angel. You know how it is." He melts a little bit when you take his hand and pull him closer, pressing your cheek against it.
"Don't go, Kusa..."
He groans a little bit. Why'd you have to be so damn sweet?
All at once, he's aware of something odd. A feeling for you he didn't quite place before. Something that lasted beyond just the wrinkled sheets, the low light and seductive atmosphere of the bedroom. Something real that transcended the sensuality of the night and remained in the morning when you could wake up side by side together. And, as you look up at him now, he knows he's screwed.
"Believe me, I don't wanna go either, doll..." He sighs deeply as you start slowly kissing his palm.
Fuck, and you had the nerve to do it while looking dead at him with those lovely twinkling eyes of yours.
"Would much rather stay in this bed with you..."
His eyes nearly pop out of his skull when you press his palm against your breast. He's immediately unable to resist squeezing it as you pull him back on top of you, still fully dressed, the rough fleece of his brown coat on top of your soft, naked body.
"Fuck, don't look at me like that, doll. Y'know what that does to me..." He mumbles weakly as you kiss each other deeply, before he pulls away briefly for air.
For a moment suspended in the passion, all you see is warmth staring back at you and it simultaneously dawns on him.
Moments like these were worth staying alive for, worth not risking his life tonight for. An angel like you. Someone he could idle hours away with. Learning one another. Sharing space with someone he didn't mind tangling souls with for a bit. Softness and warmth and connection.
Could you be his?
"When will I see you again?" You whisper, brushing your nose against his.
Kusakabe kisses your hand. "Soon, angel. You'll see me real soon..."
"Kusa..."
He groans, a cloak of protectiveness over you that completely overwhelms him as he hugs you tightly one more time.
"Be safe, okay? You'll watch out for Kento too, right, Kusa?" You murmur against his chest, drinking in the oasis of his spiced cologne along with the smell of the city when rain mixes with smoke until you can imbibe in each other again.
Kusakabe looks at you, the round tips of his fingers combing the circle of your face.
"Course I will, doll." He smiles bittersweetly, knowing your confidence you had in him betrayed any he had in himself.
But he'd try. He'd try his very best, for you.
"Get some sleep, angel. I'll be back for you soon..."
He whispers as he leaves you tucked in the billowy white sheets that clung the scent of your reunion that slowly coaxes you to sleep.
-----
He sighs as he wearily steps onto the midnight saturated street with the weight of something finally greater than himself that he left buried in that warm master bed in that grand hotel.
He puts one foot in front of the other as he gloomily trudges in the direction of the Shibuya district, thoughts of your eyes guiding every step as he quietly ponders the foreboding unknown that lay ahead.
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fairytsuk1 · 16 hours
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four seasons | (s)
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apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!
prompt: meeting at a holiday resort, both with friends or family tagging along
pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader
words: 5.4k
warnings: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, spin the bottle, marijuana mentioned, alcohol, drunk sex, begging
It's everything you thought it'd be and more. The sun shines on you in a bright gleam that warms your skin. Your plans had finally made it out of the group chat! This was going to be the best vacation ever. Your sandals slap against the concrete as you trod to your friends with your luggage.
"Hey! Can you guys believe this? It's so beautiful!"
Ayami beams, her short hair bouncing as she nods eagerly, "I can already feel myself re-energizing! All this nature and ocean—oh, it's going to be wonderful!"
Ryoka's hand slips around her girlfriend's waist with a relaxed smile. "Hell yeah. We should go ahead and check-in."
"Already done! No need to thank me," Natsumi brags as she flings the dark oak door open, "had to do it since you guys were taking your sweet time getting out of the car!"
Your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling. You must've done something heroic in your past life, maybe saving a war-torn city, to have this warm feeling fluttering in your chest. The resort is made better with your friend's banter and complimentary slippers that sink into plush carpet. 
An attendant explains things in a blur, yet your eyes are locked onto the glittering ripples of water that peek through a window. The pool is on the first floor, she says. And don't forget to ____, you ignore. Soon enough, all four of you are dashing to claim a spot on white resin lounge chairs. It feels like a dream when your manicured toes glisten under the hot summer air. It becomes more like a fairy tale when your wandering eyes land on something interesting.
He's hot. Scratch that; he's more than hot! Lecherous eyes start at sopping blonde hair pushed back by muscled biceps and veiny forearms. The way the water rolls down his back is absolutely sinful. Even his abs flex as he cockily smirks, pushing back against his red-headed friend during their game of roughhousing.
Not only is he easy on the eyes, but he looks like he fucks, which is the perfect maraschino cherry on top. You could bite into him, and it'd be sugary sweet as the sticky juice runs red down your jugular. Yeah, you could eat him alive and he'd love it. Confidence thrums through you, and you know your time is now. At the same time, he stands casually in the water, merely observing and completely unaware.
You slip in effortlessly and unnoticed, lurking like a shark behind him as you plan your words before making yourself known.
"Hey," you chirp, hands wading in the water.
You expect him to turn to you with a sly smile; maybe he'd grow close and lean on the pool edge as he asked for your name and whether you were single. Only he didn't do any of that. His eyes scan you like you're a drab beige wall, and then he has the nerve to shrug you off.
"Hey."
It's awkward. It's tense. It's very unexpected.
"What's your–"
"I don't need a drink right now," he dismisses with a casual wave.
It actually stuns you into silence. Your mouth drops open and then closes, and then opens again, "I-I'm not a worker! Do workers wear bikinis where you're from?"
The man sneers at your reaction and finally turns to face you. He's taller, broader, and you wish he wasn't so fine because he was turning out to be such a dick. You stand up straighter, squaring your shoulders to stare frustratedly into his eyes.
"No, but I don't bother paying attention to extras when I'm trying to relax," and lewd eyes dip down to your cleavage, "but maybe I can spare you some time."
"An extra!? Oh, fuck you!"
It comes out harshly, and your bottom lip droops as you stare at him: "I just came by to introduce myself, but never mind. I'm leaving."
"Then introduce yourself, or did I scare ya' off?"
You've never met a man so bold. A man with the audacity to call you an extra and still so obviously commit your curves to memory. Introductions come out in a stutter from you with warm cheeks, "and what's your name, so I can report your behavior with the front desk."
"It's Bakugou," he grunts. "Be my guest."
"I will," you challenge.
"How about I report you for harassment, hah?"
"You insulted me first!"
Bakugou shrugs with a smirk. It irritates you beyond belief to see his smug little face. The sun burns too bright and hot on you two, firing you up and encouraging you to storm out of the pool. Bakugou takes the opportunity to leer at your ass as you crawl out the side, wet swim skirt sticking to your curves and making him tug his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Damn," he grunts as you prissily walk off.
Perhaps he judged you too harshly. But then he thought about it, and you just seemed like a spoiled brat. A pretty one but a brat nonetheless. He didn't take things like that. He reassures himself under his breath, but his thoughts know what he's really thinking about: sliding those wet bikini bottoms off you and spreading your legs. It would be all for him, too. You did approach him first.
You, however, collect your things in a huff. Your move to the other end of the pool may have been petty, but you don't care. Things had to be thought through. Was it worth actually pursuing this sexy asshole guy? As you type a pro-con list into your phone, Ryoka pats your shoulder, "Are you planning on missing the game for your phone?"
The exercise will do you some good. After squeezing your friend's hand and promising to return after you change, you opt to release your frustrations on a good game of volleyball.
After a bit, it's even hotter and you've only gotten sexier. It's important to note as Bakugou stares at you from the sidelines. Sure, you were prissy, but your body was killer, and the snarl escaping you every time you spiked the ball sent wrecking balls of fantasy into his mind. You were a spitfire, and Bakugou tries to swallow the flush when you look at him in an intense adrenaline haze.
A block. A quick run to the side for a spike. Light cheering. This was the sweet escape you needed, giving you just enough space to let out your blood thirst. If you had fangs, then you'd be chomping at everyone's face! You were in the groove. Your eyes pass over him easily. And then you meet again.
Parted, pink lips with beads of sweat on your upper lip. Your hair falls messily, framing your face with sticky strands as your dark eyes pierce Bakugou's. For a minute, neither of you seems to exist in this reality. You both stay in this limbo for a second longer than you should before your head snaps forward to bump an incoming ball. Bakugou’s frozen to the core with genuine butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't even think this has ever happened to him before, or even that it ever would.
A whistle is blown, and you’re cheering with your team. It always felt good to win. It was even better when you knew you had eyes on you.
"Good game, good game! Yeah, you did amazing, Ayami…" You towel off as you relish in the glow of your success. It wasn't all due to you, but you were being a bit of a try-hard.
You don't even notice how Bakugou makes his way through the crowd. How his lips curl into a frown as someone bumps into him, and how he taps your shoulder with a gruff, "Hey."
Your head turns with hair that cracks like a whip. Obviously, you recognize him immediately. You're not happy.
"Hey," you mutter, toweling off and ready to escape. "Nice seeing you."
"Wait a minute," Bakugou's hand curls around your wrist, and you're so irritated to feel heat rush through you at seeing the sinewy muscle move. "Lemme talk to you."
"I gotta get in the shower. So, no."
"You're being stubborn. I'm sorry for earlier," he huffs with eyes that lack the confidence to look straight at you. "Let me buy you a soda or somethin'."
"What makes you think I want a soda from you, an extra?"
He almost wants to shout in your face, but he knows there's no way around that. Bakugou mumbles about not meaning it while kicking at the ground, and your posture stays stiff. It happens so quickly you almost miss it, but you catch a glimpse of a smile on his lips.
"What's so funny?! You're a real jerk, laughing and everything when you insulted me and–"
"You're all defensive at being called an extra. It's cute." 
"I have a name," you nearly stomp your foot in exasperation despite the flush crawling up your skin.
"I forgot. You stuttered it out last time," he provokes calmly with a tilt of his head. Really, he just wants to hear that pretty name on your lips again.
You try to tell yourself that there's no time to think about the compliment that flies and waves in the air like a kite. You introduce yourself calmly, emphasizing the syllables and ensuring he gets it.
Bakugou repeats your name so slowly. So pointedly, velvety tongue and eyes narrowing. You could imagine him whispering it into your neck as strong hips hump to meet yours. Maybe in the morning, with a kiss on the cheek and the taste of coffee on your tongue. He puts so much care into repeating your name that you almost cave when he asks if you want to get smoothies together.
You're a strong, independent woman. That and, well, his pissed-off face was sexy. Your glossy lips smirk at him as you cock your hip, "Sorry, I'm getting drinks with friends. I'll catch you later, though, yeah?"
"...Alright, yeah."
The way you ditch him in the dust leaves him half-chubbed in his shorts. God, you were such a cock tease. If only he could kiss you and show you what you're missing out on by playing cat and mouse. Thick fingers adjust his shorts, and Bakugou pushes his hair back, opting to turn back to his friends indulging in flower necklaces and drunk karaoke.
If you wanted to be the mouse, he had no problem being the cat.
Everything's clear-headed and far too boring and bright. Within time and the coaxing with your friends; you're grinning ear to ear after too many puffs of a joint and sips of cocktails. Things tilt around you, and the music sounds irresistible as you feel the rhythm lend you dance moves. Everything feels like ecstasy as you twirl in circles with your crew. The alcohol was flowing, and you were starting to have that craving for closeness as things ramped up and up.
Natsumi practically topples you over as she blushes into your face. "Come with me. I made some friends."
“Friends? What kinda friends?”
 "Don’t ask, just go. Come on, you have to! They’re cool, you really gotta meet 'em," your friend pleads as you give her a reluctant look.
"Well, okay…"
Natsumi hiccups as she escorts you a few tables over. She giggles about someone being your type, and there's a real worry that the alcohol is clouding her mind, and you’re about to have to reject a loser.
"Hey, Natsumi! I was wondering where you went!"
A yellow-toned boy speaks up, face flushed as he waves a sloppy hand from where he rests on a beachy pull-out. Next to him, Bakugou nurses a rum and coke, eyes red and cast downward towards the ground. They lazily crawl a path up to your eyes, a bit woozy but flickering with recognition.
No fucking way. Of course, he's here, and of course, he looks fantastic! You know your dress looks immaculate. There was no denying that, but Bakugou left your mouth embarrassingly dry. His white button-up was nice, but it was more about what it revealed; tanned skin and the promise of more the further you looked. As you looked down at his body, Bakugou looked up at yours.
As you sit down, you can't help but open your mouth, "What are you doing here?"
"My friends dragged me out, I could be sleeping by now."
You find yourself letting out a small laugh and turning toward him with interest. He really wasn't so bad.
“You sleep early?”
“You don’t?”
Amid it all, Bakugou and you end up squished together as the budding love story of your two friends blossoms. Every time their heated make out spills into limbs crossing over into your bubble, you grunt in frustration, inevitably scooting closer to your frenemy with a slight sway.
"She is so ridiculous," you comment on Natsumi with a slight huff. "So is your friend, by the way."
"Maybe they're made for each other," he snorts.
A beat of silence passes by as you both observe each-other. It was really more like admiring, though.
 "Why're you so standoffish? I said I was sorry, called you pretty, ‘nd you don't wanna give me another chance?"
He grumbles when he says it but looks curious as his teeth sink into his lip for a split second. You almost get lost in the motion as you unconsciously lean closer like a moth to a flame.
"I didn't peg you as someone who begged."
"Sometimes you make mistakes, hm? And I'm not begging, babe, trust me."
The conversation dies, but the tension grows larger. The way his voice dropped made your thighs squeeze together. Blood flowed south as Bakugou traced over your red lips and briefly down to your cleavage–nice, he smirked.
"Well, whatever," you pray the sip of your lychee martini gives you a long enough reprieve to think of how to coyly flirt back. "What are you doing here anyway? Vacationing? Dying of an illness and this is your last hoorah?"
"Just relaxing. What're you doing besides bein' a brat. Spending daddy's money?"
"I paid for this trip myself, actually!"
"I like a smart woman," he says, moving to brush his thumb lightly against your cheek. He pulls away just as fast, and you can smell the breeze of his icy cologne. "I paid for myself, too. Can't rely on anyone or anything!"
You see the mask slip just a second. The calm persona dropped to reveal his boyish grin and messy hair.
"Yeah, you really can't."
It was so terrible that you knew deep down he was cute. You couldn't pretend at all. Now that you're starting to know him, you're falling head first into really liking him. You weren't sure if your girls' trip vacation could withstand a passionate, whirlwind romance.
"Oh my god, you know what would be totally fucking fun right now? What if we played a game? You guys know spin the bottle! C'mon," Natsumi beams excitedly.
"I haven't done that since I was still smoking cigarettes!" Ryoka shakes her head with a laugh.
"But, come on," she gives you all a pleading look. "If we haven't done it in forever, wouldn't it be fun to do it one last time?"
Natsumi's heartfelt yet drunken rambles strike a chord within all of you. You glance at Bakugou, who doesn't reply, only shrugging in acquiescence to the group. To hell with it, you call, raising your drink in the air.
"You know what, let's go for it! You're right, Natsumi."
Bakugou eyes you curiously as you stand to hug your friend with a slight wobble in your step. You had a point. To hell with it!
Moments later, you all were knee-rubbing, stumbling idiots sitting in a circle. The more you admire Bakugou as you sit across from him, the more you're hoping the stars align with the spin of the bottle. The kiss would be innocent. Fun and games. It meant nothing. That's what you told yourself to repent for your future sins.
A bead of sweat glides down the back of your neck as the glass goes round and round. You watch as Natsumi eagerly kisses a flushed Kaminari, who is all too eager to receive it. Ryoka and Ayami are familiar but sweet. Kirishima lands a peck on you, but it's nothing crazy.
You miss the way Bakugou's eyes glitter with disappointment every time the green bottle spun past him mockingly, taunting him deviously with the promise of vodka-tinged kisses. Only then do you both find a line drawn between point A, you, and point B, him.
"Finally," Ryoka slurs out.
Suddenly, you're nervous. You're nervous as you sit up a bit more and scoot closer over the bottle containing the will of fate. He looks calm and relaxed, his eyelids lowered just enough to make him look… wanting. Knees graze the carpet as you inch closer until you both can feel each other's breath.
The music is still bumping. The alcohol is still flowing, yet you're stuck in this standstill with nothing to break you out of your reverie. Other than the kiss that's planted on your lips, Bakugou tastes like rum and mint gum. You wonder if you taste like lychee, or maybe you'll mix into an entirely new flavor that leaves you both with incessant cravings.
You're unsure when or who pulls away first, but it happens. Your butt plops down right as the round of giggles surrounds you. Bakugou smirked as he sat back, crossing his legs and taking a smug swig of his drink. It was unfair that you were left dazed; he was the reason for it all.
You okay? He mouths over the talking that's come instead of the next bottle spin.
Are you? You ask with a smirk, flipping your hair in jest.
Bakugou rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a full-on grin. You feel something fond bloom in your chest. Something that makes the sound of ringing bells when you see that flash of teeth and a glimpse of a slick tongue. Someone suggests dancing, and pairs of legs come into view as they stumble out as a crew, a unit. There are two missing cogs. You both stay sitting and facing each other.
"I thought you said you were okay," he jokes as he scoots closer.
You realize you have a tendency to mimic him, "I am. You're the one who didn't even try to pretend to follow."
"I don't pretend anything, pretty. I do and say what I mean."
There's a beat of silence, and your clit throbs at the tone of his voice.
"You know what I mean?"
His voice is deep, almost mocking, as he croons at you. You're going to fuck. It might be now, on the last day of your resort, but it would happen. Set in stone, if you will.
"I think I do."
"Mhm. Let's go dance, gotta show you what a real dancer looks like."
Bakugou offers a firm hand and pulls you up like you weigh nothing. It makes you feel tiny, and you wonder if the same effect will happen as you sway your hips against his dick.
You find yourself dancing to Nelly, and hearing lulls about being a promiscuous girl. It makes satisfaction thrum in your chest at having success in your findings. Grinding did, indeed, produce the same effect. Bakugou was trying to dominate your form, and you let it happen.
Bit by bit, you find yourself caring less about the group and becoming more preoccupied with Bakugou. You let him buy you drinks, giggling as your hands jokingly interlace before you pull away coyly. He only smirks at you, chasing you wherever you go, as if he didn't want you to forget him in your intoxicated parade.
He tells you to call him Katsuki when you slur his last name out, gripping the white button as you pout tiredly, "I want to go back to my room."
"Since when am I your keeper, huh?"
Katsuki lays a steady hand on the curve of your waist and lets you fall into him.
"Don't be mean, we bonded sooo much. I thought you were this asshole guy, but you're actually kinda funny and sexy."
"I think I knew that last part. Remember when you tried this on me before?"
"Are you dumb enough to still reject me?"
"Nah, not this time," he says, making sure to drink in your gaze as he does.
Thankfully, you'd already had your first kiss. That made it easier for him to lean forward and press his lips against yours. The promise of something more, and you practically purred as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. Katsuki's hands skirt down your back, down to your hips, and pull you so close, "You're sexy, too."
A bartender squawks at your behavior, and his voice floats over the music and sticky kisses to yell for you to get a room! The man at your side noses your neck and then juts forward.
"Come to my room," and he's so gruff. Like he knows you want this, "Wanna get you alone and see how feisty you are then."
You tug your bottom lip between your teeth. Surely, your friends would be fine; your eyes flit between him and the crowd dancing behind him. Yeah, they'd be alright. Your hand slips into his, and he's quick to tug you next to him by your waist. He makes you unsteady and chuckles, "Let's get goin', then."
Neither of you is composed as you tumble through Katsuki's–clearly luxurious–room onto his plush bed. He's not afraid to lift you with his raw strength and place you right where he wants you. It makes you laugh, tinged with shyness, as his red predatory eyes sweep over you before settling on your face.
It's silent as both eyes hold this deep, wanting gaze. He crawls closer, and you lay back further; he's on top of you with a forearm dipping into the mattress and a veiny hand supporting his weight. Katsuki doesn't touch you as if he's waiting for something. You can't wait anymore, and you're ungracefully yanking him closer till his body weight rests on you, and you can feel his hardness poking at your thigh.
He must have been waiting on you–the bastard! But you can't deny that feeling the rippling strength resting on your body and pressing you into the mattress feels good. You and Katsuki exchange saccharine kisses as your bodies grind together like you're one. He grits his teeth and takes a sharp inhale when your wandering hand brushes against his bulge, "don't, fuck, don't do that."
"Why? Sensitive?"
Katsuki's vermilion eyes meet yours and narrow, "you're such a tease, you know?"
His voice is low and honeyed as he slowly peels your skirt from your thick thighs.
"All I did was ignore you the first time–"
"And then I did the second!"
Seemingly having had enough of your quips, a hush falls over you when his hand swats at your thigh, "Yeah, and you're still under me, begging for my cock. Ironic, right?"
He then snickers when sticky strings stretch from your slick pussy to the cotton underwear.
"She's beggin' too."
In a flash, he's lapping at your folds and groaning at how sweet you taste.
"Oh! Oh my god, w-wait!"
“Nuh-uh, no waiting.”
He's so messy with it. His chiseled nose bumps against your clit with every lap as he mixes spit with your leaking arousal; it's so debauched, and yet you're wailing for more as you try to push his face further between your thighs. Katsuki groans and your eyes meet right when he suckles your clit with his plush, rosy lips.
"Y-Your mouth's so good, ohfuck!"
Katsuki lets out a pleased hum before wrangling your squirming hips under a flexing forearm, "don' move too much. Wanna enjoy this, babe."
His right hand comes up to toy with your soaked hole. His teeth are sharp, and he's downright predatory in how he sinks two fingers into you. They're thicker than yours; a keening whimper escapes you.
"C'mon, tell me how it feels. Since you've been dyin' for it, I want a review, baby."
There's a wet clicking sound as fingers crook against that deliciously torturous spot, leaving stars bursting behind your eyelids.
“Gonna cum! Wanna cum, ‘mygod, ‘tsukiii!”
"Already? Such a needy girl," and he latches his tongue to your puffy clit, massaging it as your pleasure uncoils into a white-hot explosion.
Somewhere in the haze, you can hear Katsuki murmuring, "Good girl, good girl," and leaving sharp kisses on your inner thighs. He chuckles at how you jump, how cute, and sighs into your neck before biting your pulse point.
"Holy fuck," you mumble, hands wringing into his shirt as he peels off his shirt and makes his way up yours.
"You alright? Looked like things were good," and he has the nerve to snicker at you. "It's okay to admit it."
"You're such a cocky bastard. When are you gonna fuck me?"
Katsuki's hands are practically already in his pants as he unbuckles his belt. He shoves his jeans down, and your eyes widen at how big he looks, the fat head leaving a dark patch of pre-cum against his gray boxers. You're coming closer as he tugs off his underwear, leaving him exposed. His cock bobs, smearing on his navel, while a throaty groan escapes his lips once you wrap a soft hand around him. He's so hot and weighty in your hand that you can feel how he practically pulses in your hand; you can't help but want to go in for a little taste…
He's gentle as thick fingers press back on the crown of your head, a tut escaping his lips as he shakes his head, "No way. I'll cum way too fast, wanna give it to you good."
The scratchiness of his voice leaves your thighs pressing together. Katsuki kisses you before motioning for you to settle on your hands and knees.
"Like this?"
You're practically mewling at him! Your back arches so tauntingly, cute butt perked up in the air and swaying back and forth. Katsuki draws close, and your eyelids are fluttering when his fat head bumps against your soaked folds, "ohfuck, stop admiring me already."
"And here I thought you wanted it all nice and sweet," and you're whimpering as the head barely breaches past your pussy. "But, I'll give it to ya' how you like it."
With that, his hands are smoothing over the curve of your back as his heavy balls press against your pussy clit. You're already caving for him, with eyes threatening to roll towards the ceiling as his hips stick to yours. He's so full inside you that you can barely move, barely breathe, only able to leak around him as he grunts, "so fuckin' tight. 'S like you're a virgin."
"Katsukiii. Fuck, pleasepleaseplease move!"
He hums thoughtfully, hips rocking just the slightest inside your gummy walls.
"Ask me again," and he punctures it with a thrust that leaves you breathless.
"Please, wanna feel you fuck me. I-I've been waiting for your annoying ass, I wanna cum so bad…"
The man behind you doesn't seem convinced, though his hips move just a tad faster. " C'mon. I know you can do it. What is it you want again?"
He's pushing you to your breaking point. Katsuki's strong enough that he can press forward and bend you further into that delicious arch, nearly fucking you into the mattress if he would just move!
"Oh god, fuck me. Need to feel you take control, Katsuki, I-I can't! I need you, need you so bad, 'm gonna cry. I jus' wanna feel you breed me, please!?"
"Was that so hard?"
Within seconds, he's hunkering down and fucking you within an inch of your life. Your hands desperately cling to the duvet as if that'll ground you, but he's moving too hard and fast!
"S-So deep, ohshit!"
"Ngh, yeah? You're fucking grippin' me, I love how you sound, how you taste, how you feel–fuuuuck. Let me have it, baby."
You're wailing as you gush around him. The smell of sex is overpowering, and your panting breaths mingle with Katsuki's. You can't help but push back just a bit, the two of you joined together so intimately. His muscles ripple with every rock into your cunt. You wish you could see how debauched he looks–though your ears are privy to the hot groans and curses flying out of him as he slides home over and over and over again.
Katsuki loses himself in your pussy, head tipping back to expose the expanse of his throat as his balls tighten with his orgasm. God, fuck, did you say to breed you? He tries to recover as he watches your sneaky hand desperately rub you till you're trying to run from his thrusts (to which he only tuts and brings you back full force towards him). The slick, papping sounds echo, and you're not even sure what you're saying as you wail for him.
"Oh, 'm gonna cum all over you. Ohfuckfuckfuck, wait! I-I'm gonna, Katsuki!"
"Yeah? Cum all over this dick, let me feel it. Fuck, 'm gonna cum too, gonna fill you up."
Your wrist twists another tight circle, and you're falling apart. Your thighs shake and tight walls squeeze Katsuki, trying to draw him as deep as possible as he hits your g-spot dead on. A cry escapes you, and you know his base is creamy from your orgasm. In the haze, you can tell he's close by how his fingers twitch around your hips; you start mewling weakly for him, "cum inside me. Ohmygod!!”
He's sure he's leaving bruises, and yet he doesn't even care as he shoots rope after rope inside you. God, your pussy sucks him in like it wants every drop; despite the sensitivity, Katsuki can't help but keep moving till you're whining from overstimulation. Pulling out slowly and giving your thigh a playful swat, the two of you practically collapse into the soft sheets.
Katsuki's hand quickly grabs your chin and pulls you to face him. " Are you good?"
With your hair mussed and bruises littering your body, you were more than good. A soft nod, and then you're scooting closer for warmth. Katsuki lets it happen to your joy, a strong arm wrapping around your waist as he hoists you close.
"Good, you gonna run off of me, now?"
"No. Are you?"
"It's my room, you stalker," he teases with a toothy grin. His features are relaxed, and his red eyes are a bit glazed.
He looks wonderful. Beautiful, even.
You review your mental checklist one last time as you pace about your room, door open. How could it have all ended so soon? You'd spent the rest of your days happily fucking, drinking, and soaking in the luxuries of the resort.
Katsuki lingers by the doorway. A flicker of fondness grows into a fire when you turn to see him and smile. When did he get so soft?
"Hey! What's up?"
"What's up? It's your last day, and you're what's upping me."
"Katsukiii," you drag out the syllables and catch the faintest smirk on his lips. "Don't get too sad while I'm gone."
"Please," he scoffs and rolls his eyes, the two of you making eye contact that holds longer than it should.
The two of you shouldn't be so dramatic; you should try to steel yourself. It's not like you've known each other for that long, Katsuki thinks before reaching out and pulling you into a loose hug.
"See ya," he grumbles.
"Hehe, text me! Call me whenever," you mumble into the muscle of his chest.
He smells like the start of a campfire, mixed with a cool cologne that wafts like the breeze of a nearby ocean. You pull away and look into the tides of his eyes, the Red Sea staring back at you, before he gently kisses your lips.
"I'll think about it. For now, I'll walk you out," and he wraps a possessive arm around your waist.
There was no other option; he was walking you out. You squawk at his comment, "That is not an 'I'll think about it' statement!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, lemme think on it."
"Stop it!"
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terukotime · 2 days
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allow me to be super delulu for a second
if either Eden or Ace are the actual killer, that would mean one of them would be saying their secret quotes in the next coming episodes. but...do we really feel like the situation warrants them saying what their quotes are?
Ace's is: "I don't know what to do with myself anymore."
Eden's is: "You can't go back, no matter how hard you try."
Ace's feels a little strange to say in the trial. we're very close to unearthing the real culprit, and if Ace really is the killer, when would he say that? immediately upon being found out? the quote itself has their air of melancholy and defeatism, and even at his lowest, we know Ace isn't someone to concede or go down without a fight. and if he knows he's about to die, what's the point in saying "I don't know what to do with myself anymore" when he's not even going go be alive in the next few moments? He WON'T be doing anything with himself anymore, he'll be dead.
Eden's, while not as strange of a thing to say as Ace, is also kind of peculiar. when would she say it? while she's admitting to the murder? if Eden did it, sure, it's believable that she'd feel some regret, but the setup to her being the killer feels very odd now that we've gone through this big emotional moment between her and Teruko. honestly, after all that, if Eden really is the killer, i'd be more inclined to believe she WOULDN'T regret killing Arei. it'd seem like her crying and pleading was all just emotional manipulation. it also seems strange to me that Eden would have already had it in mind to kill Arei when she and Teruko found Ace, and took the opportunity to steal the tape to carry it out. i could definitely be wrong, and please correct me if i am, but i think the attempted murder was the same day as what happened with Eden and Arturo? honestly, even if it wasn't, it just feels weird to me that Eden would find some way to disguise her handwriting, set up a murder method even more elaborate than Nico's original version, and then do the whole trial pleading and sobbing for people to believe she didn't kill her and actually have regretted her actions. that shit is so premeditated that everything Eden has done thus far feels like immense emotional manipulation. while that could still be possible...it's not really that satisfying, i'd say. who knows, maybe i'm in severe denial, but i just think this characterization of Eden would be really weird. it would feel less like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked turned out to be awful", and more like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked has made a 180° in their personality without any foreshadowing of having a darker side to them".
and i'm just still really hung up on Hu. her secret quote, "I want to pay for what I've done. But even then, I still want to live." makes total sense in the context of this trial, especially after her secret reveal. and while it's pretty unlikely she took the tape from the gym, there's no guarantee that the person who took the tape at the time HAS to be the murderer. i'm just still hung up on the fact that it feels like there needs to be one last, big twist before the true killer is revealed. a moment where Teruko comes to her realization and the culprit is selected before she makes any actual accusation against them. we already knew Eden and Ace would be the ones Teruko was going to interrogate in the selection because of her explanation. just given how drdt has been written thus far, i feel like they wouldn't hand the potential answer to us like that so easily. like we wouldn't get to the point of selecting the culprit with the story already telling us it can only be one of two suspects.
it's entirely possible that i'm just coping and am refusing to accept that one of my favorite characters is actually the culprit. or that drdt could have a trial that isn't greatly written. it's totally fine if i'm wrong and Eden or Ace really is the killer, i definitely won't enjoy it much but it's not my story, nor would it completely make me drop drdt.
i honestly just needed to rant LMAO. this episode left me with a LOT of feelings.
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lxmelle · 2 days
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Just some thoughts on 270
Yes the end is near.
Yes I almost threw up when I saw that unmistakable hairstyle...
Yes I was a bit disappointed that there were no visible satosugu crumbs - or are there? More on this later... and the it overall just felt a little bit 😔 empty 😪
Nevertheless, I want to just blab about a few things.
First, is it Geto/Kenjaku?
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If we think about how Yuta’s copy CT works, Rika would need to consume a viable part of the sorcerer. The only part of Kenny left was his whole brain. He was the brain. The rest is Geto. We have not seen any evidence of Yuta having CSM, so it can be assumed that Yuta did not have Rika eat any part of Geto. Otherwise, it’s be Geto’s CT and not Kenjaku’s body-hopping technique.
Imho: The person with Takaba is not likely to be either Kenny or Geto. Geto cannot function without a brain, there was none “spare” either, so the theory of a spirit entering the body is going to make it alive again - no, it doesn’t. There is no other living sorcerer who can do that - Ui Ui maxed it out with the number of times and there is no other person to swap with. Just. Not. Possible.
And Kenny was seen to have told Mimiko and Nanako that he took Geto’s brains out to inhabit it.
So. My conclusion is that Gege is baiting. Just as he did with the “we have to help Yuta!” And the rude yelling that got so many of us wondering just who would speak to roughly to Yuta and what warranted it. We were all asking: who calls Yuta “Yuta” and not “Okkutsu-senpai” etc. I even thought it was Shoko, assuming that Maki was in the same hallway as the others, but the main culprit was of course the most obvious, Maki herself.
And that baiting thing with the clock theory about 2:21 pm linking with chapter 221 of Gojo’s unsealing - I theorised it’s about having presence (like how spiritualists, and in Shinto, believe that spirit is all around us) despite being dead and his soul with Geto.
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And goodness know what other theories there are out there about time and Gojo revival. I’ve said before that I don’t buy into it, but it is interesting.
So is it Geto? Kenjaku? I 80% think not but... yeah, I am worried. To be completely transparent, I’m so scared that it is.
Because I’m in the camp of: please please Gege, please please please let Gojo and Geto be at peace in their eternal afterlife until they’re ready to be reborn and let them find each other over and over and over again.
So rationally, I doubt it is. But I’m worried. I’m worried for reasons like: why aren’t the bodies and resting places of Gojo & Geto still not mentioned?
Next thing to I have some thoughts on are about Itafushi. They’re really good friends and I think it’s also just one of those things Gege is doing because it’s JUMP and he doesn’t want to just pretend the Hana -> Megumi thing is forgotten. It also shows some character growth.
So overall, I’m rather neutral about the Megumi + Hana thing. They’re still kids, and Yuji + Megumi are compatible but they’re also not quite Satosugu, so their relationship will be undeniably different. Friends or otherwise.
It’s nice to see the Megumi is taking initiative and finding novel ways to make new meaning & connections. I wouldn’t read too deeply into it, especially since Hana obviously read too deeply into it and got it all wrong.
I will say that it feels cliche maybe. Again it’s maybe a JUMP serialisation thing shonen mangakas do, since a big portion of the fanbase are young boys too. Gege can’t be doing too much for lgbtq+ too obviously after all.
So it leaves me feeling it is a little reminiscent of the Sasuke and Sakura pairing in Naruto - as if it could become something seemingly out of convenience/settling/making do, but what do I know? Sometimes relationships in life are like that. I’d rather marry my best friend, but you know... different strokes for different folks. As they say.
Now it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t find a way to make it about satosugu. I’m imagining collective groans from people who may be reading this... so please skip if you’re bored of me now, lol. Or read on if you like to be in satosugu delulu brainrot like me.
One of the satosugu-related takeaways from this recent chapter is that it seems to reduce the possibility of interpreting Gojo not allowing Shoko to process Geto’s body as being out of consideration for her.
Her saying that the idiot should have let her process Geto’s body pretty much says Gojo took matters into his own hands. Not only was it protocol… but she also personally thought it would be a privilege. But Gojo did not let her.
We ofc don’t know the details.
So it leaves us with: He did it for his own reasons, or reasons at least relating to Geto. Kenjaku thought it was out of consideration. And Kenjaku is not a reliable narrator, nor was Geto... who tended to think he didn’t matter.
You know, as a person who can quietly just swallow vomit and shit rags without complaint. As a person who could practically transform the filth, negativity, evil, and darkness of the world into power that he could use for good - he was vessel of sacrifice.
Anyway, I digress.
It seems to indicate that Gojo kept his body to himself ... for his own reasons, breaking protocol.
And referring back to 270 again, for Shoko to talk about the afterlife right after preparing the body -> cremation is strange. Does preparing the body and cremating it have anything to do with the afterlife? 🤔 so somehow, prepare body -> cremate -> mourn/afterlife?
Interesting in that Gege is giving us yet another example of how everyone has a different reality / belief. If we believe what we saw in Gojo’s death, then there is one and Shoko will be proven wrong when her time comes like how Gojo was wrong about dying alone.
And it is also interesting in the sense that it’s familiar…
Something about how she said prior to Gojo’s unsealing, about “I couldn’t love either of you like you loved each other, but I was there too.” - am I reading too deeply? Probably. But it’s there for me to read.
Shoko prepared Tsumiki for cremation. She was made her beautiful for the afterlife - even if she was to be cremated, there was something about giving her something (dignity?) before she turned to ash. And those left behind can send them off into the afterlife feeling they did their best.
I think you’d need a certain level of trust for someone to hand your beloved over. Or at least feel like they would mourn the departed like you would. Or faith that your beloved would be happy with entrusting you with that decision. In some cultures, the family wash and swathe their dead in cloth with their own hands where possible.
So Shoko. Shoko could do it for Geto, for Gojo. She was there. She was willing. But. It was almost as if saying that Gojo 1. could not allow someone else to prepare Geto’s body, and neither did he seem to have mourned because 2. Geto was not cremated to be sent into the afterlife. As if he didn’t trust anyone. As if he could not let go.
Again, Rika kept Yuta’s body “alive” too. Parallels are paralleling.
I don’t know how Geto regenerated or if Kenny was responsible for it. Or if Gojo somehow did. But those are just unnecessary details at this point.
And again, Shoko was there but she could not be like what Gojo was to Geto and what Geto was to Gojo.
How complicated.
I’m reminded of that scene where he says to ichiji and Shoko: “There are just 3 of us remaining huh.”
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In agreement to Shoko acknowledging that Geto’s body needed retrieving from Kenjaku, it was quite a pregnant pause from Gojo before he goes, “………yeah.”
He seemed surprised Shoko brought it up and decided to just gloss over it.
To me, it collectively implies that Gojo doesn’t let Geto be anyone else’s but his.
His friendship was his one and only. His loneliness was his. His dreams were his. His love was his. His life was his. His body was... his. And his soul was his too. As was his satisfaction.
I think Gege wants us to understand something here. By what he is showing and not showing us.
If I think about the exclusivity that they shared... the whole, “we are the strongest (together)” and “it wouldn’t be bad to be killed by you” or even “I’m jealous but if you were satisfied I’m glad for you.” and then “if you were there to pat me on the back I’d be satisfied.”
It’s a lot like... only YOU can be the one. And therefore I think Gojo kept Geto all to himself. Maybe thinking Geto would only want HIM to touch his body.
It was his exclusive right. And that was mutually shared... because Geto wasn’t really pleased with Gojo getting satisfaction from elsewhere (lol, you know, the “jealous” 妬けるね that got the fandom in a frenzy).
I’ve mentioned it in another post... link: https://www.tumblr.com/lxmelle/758015943938113536/i-love-the-idea-of-mutuality-that-is-deeply-rooted I really do like the idea of Gojo and Geto just teaching each other things. Like selfishness and love. Binding each other to the other. Selfishness and selflessness as part of being human.
Was this an act out of the side of Gojo that was “a little selfish, a little inhuman but a little too human”, and he wanted to keep Geto all to himself? Despite not giving his best friend a proper burial?
When I think about how he normally did what Geto approved of (you can dispute this if you wish) and I think back to how he might’ve really given Geto’s body back to his family- but what we saw in the manga seemed like they didn’t have much involvement either. Surely they’d have wanted Geto cremated?
So it leaves me with the idea that it was Gojo acting out his secret feelings.
Just Gege and how he shields Gojo’s privacy. Secret words. Secret thoughts. You know. Gege being Gege letting Gojo do Gojo things.
I think we might need to accept that Gojo and Geto just have this exclusive thing we aren’t privy to.
That’s all for now. Abrupt ending 🫡
Thanks for reading my rambling if you made it this far 🫶
Feel free to share your thoughts/comments/criticisms 😄
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sarawritestories · 3 days
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Tell Me A Story, Nes
Nessian Fic
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NESSIAN WEEK DAY 5: BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
Summary: Cassian offers to braid Nesta's hair and she begins to talk about her Book. Which leads the General to make an unusual request.
A/N: I Adored this prompt because I know these two are so soft behind closed doors!
If you see mistakes, no, you didn't!
@nessianweek
Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears
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Cassian smiled as the door to his and Nesta's room opened. The later walking in eyes bright but tired. "A good book club with Em, and Gwyn?" He began to rise from his seat by the fire when his mate held up a hand.
"Let me change and I'll tell you all about it." She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, "When I come out, would you be willing to braid my hair?"
Cassian's grinn widened, "As if you have to ask, Nes." He motioned for her to come toward him, and she complied. With his thumb, he softly pulled her bottom lip from her gnawing. Placing a chaste kiss on her mouth, he whispered, "I love you."
Nesta, face warmed with a flush, never tiring of the Illyrian saying those words to her, her silver eyes twinkling against the light of the flame. A flame she no longer feared, no longer pictured her father's neck snapping at the sound of a crack. The male in front of her was to thank for taking the time to work with her through that trauma from the war.
She kissed him once more, and she could hear Cassian's wings rustling in response. "And I love you, Cas." She watched as his Honey colored eyes warmed at the sentiment as if he too had waited for someone to utter those words to him. She lightly patted his cheek as she headed to the bathing chambers.
When she returned her favorite silk nightgown in her favorite shade of red hugging her body, Cassian patted the spot between his legs comb in hand, "Feel better." Nesta smiled and watched as the General took in her whole body. She shifted under his soft scrutiny. She wasn't sure if she would ever be used to someone who not only looked at her with such fierce passion as Cassian's eyes always did. Not sure she would ever be used to being seen as someone worth cherishing worth protecting and asking for nothing in return.
"Nes?" His low voice pulled her from her thoughts to find his dark brows furrowed with concern, "You alright?"
The eldest Archeron grinned widely, showing teeth, a smile reserved for him, Her Valkyries, and Azriel: her inner circle. "I'm wonderful."
Cassian chuckled, "Then come here, I'm wanting to hear about this book."
Nesta grabbed the book from the table and rushed over to where he had motioned her to sit, when she adjusted to a comfortable position on the floor between his legs, he began to separate her hair and began to braid. Nesta hummed and leaned into his touch, reminded that the calloused hands of the Lord of Bloodshed held a gentleness to them. Cassian loved doing these things for her, and when she once asked him about why he loved braiding and brushing her hair he had said:
"It reminds me that my hands are capable of being gentle and loving, not just a weapon of war."
So became their nightly routine. Nesta would tell him about the book her book club was reading as he brushed and plaited her hair.
This particular night, she was telling him a story told in a series of books that Gwyn found in a dark corner of the library, it had Assassins, hidden princesses, witches and fearsome warriors and an epic battle they were about to embark on in the final book.
Once Nesta had finished explaining, silence fell between them in the room. She knew he was awake as his fingers were gently tugging her hair to manipulate it into going where he wanted it. Another moment went by before she took a glance at the mirror beside the fireplace to find Cassian smiling at her reflection. "What?" She whispered.
"You always look so free when you talk about your stories? Just like when music plays out by the rainbow, your body comes alive, as does your facial expressions." He pauses his work on her hair to rub his tanned hands against her bare arms, causing a shiver down her spine. "You are breathtaking every day. But I could spend centuries watching you talk about the things you love." He pressed his lips softly to her temple before moving to pinning her braids into a crown, just the way she likes it.
"Cassian, you're too sweet, I fear."
Cassian's chest rumbled with laughter, "You deserve the world, Nes, you deserve someone being sweet to you." Cassian tapped her arm, indicating he was done, and she quickly rose to move toward his lap. Cassian quick to wrap an arm around her waist and hand wrapping over her bare thigh. "You don't want to check my work."
Nesta scoffed, "I trust you." She kissed his cheek, "Thank you, My Love."
"Anything for you, Sweetheart." His wings curved to provide an extra warmth to the room. They fell into silence once more.
"Tell Me a Story, Nes." Cassian whispered.
Nesta faced him, his eyes meeting her silver once with sincerity, "What?"
"Read to me." There was no question to the statement. He continued, "I want to know how the Princess reclaims her throne."
Nesta pressed her hand to her cheek, making sure the warmth of them were not due to a fever. "No one i have courted before has ever been interested in my books," her voice barely above a whisper.
Cassian's hand moved from her thigh to cup her face, "I am not, 'no one'. I would crawl to the ends of the earth for you. There is nothing about you that I don't want to know. I want to experience storytelling with you the way I have with music. You have given music meaning for me, Nes. Let us have that with reading to."
Nesta eyes began to glisten with tears, "Okay."
Cassian reached and handed her the book. "Okay."
Nesta opened to the first chapter and her voice a sweet Symphony to the Lord of Bloodshed's ears, "Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom..."
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General Tag: @milswrites @lady-of-tearshed @tsunami-of-tears @readychilledwine @ceoofyearning
@velariscalling @daycourtofficial @prythianpages @writingcroissant @itsswritten
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winchesterwild78 · 19 hours
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A Birthday Worth Celebrating
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Characters: Jensen x reader
Warnings: drinking, SMUT!, fluff
A/N: Just a quick story inspired by a request from @lmg14. I hope I do your request justice. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. No disrespect to Jensen or his family. In this he is single and does not have children. All work is my own, please don’t take it or pass it off as yours. Reblogs and feedback are welcome.
Minors DNI 18+
The strobe lights pulsed, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the dance floor. Laughter and music filled the air, creating a vibrant atmosphere that matched the electric energy coursing through your veins. You were celebrating your birthday with your closest friends, and tonight, you were feeling alive.
As you twirled and danced, your gaze occasionally drifted towards a group of men seated at a nearby table. One man, in particular, caught your attention. His eyes, a piercing shade of green, held a captivating intensity that drew you in. Each time you looked up, you found him watching you, a soft smile playing on his lips.
The night wore on, and you found myself dancing less for your friends and more for him. Moving with a newfound sensuality, your body swayed to the rhythm of the music as you caught glimpses of his admiring gaze. The men at his table seemed to notice your attention, their expressions encouraging him to make a move.
A surge of confidence, fueled by the whiskey he had been drinking, propelled him towards you. As he approached, you realized who he was. Jensen Ackles, a man you had admired for years, was standing before you. He introduced himself with a charming smile and asked you to dance.
Your bodies moved in perfect harmony as you danced together. The initial awkwardness quickly dissipated, replaced by a palpable chemistry that ignited between you. As the song "Into the Night" by Santana began to play, Jensen pulled you closer, his breath fanning against your ear.
The heat and desire between you grew with each passing moment. Jensen leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. You moaned into his mouth, melting into his embrace. He whispered in your ear, "Let's get out of here, darlin'."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded in agreement. Jensen took your hand and led you out of the bar, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As the two of you reached his car, his hands roamed over your body, igniting a fire within you.
The need between the two of you was palatable. Opening the car door you climbed in as Jensen walked around to the driver’s seat. His car’s engine roared to life as he put the car in drive.
Heading towards his house your heart was pounding with anticipation. You had been a fan of his for years and you couldn't believe you were in his car, heading to his house. He took your hand in his and kissed the back of it.
“Almost there sweetheart.” He smiled over at you. You nodded and swallowed hard. This is really happening. You’re about to go to Jensen’s house, on your birthday no less.
He pulled into his driveway and this beautiful home stood before you. Your breath hitched. Jensen put the car in park and walked around, opening your door. “Welcome to my home.” He took your hand and helped you out of the car. “Jensen, it’s beautiful.”
Jensen walked you up the steps and opened the door. As you stepped in Jensen closed and locked the door. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your body filled with anticipation.
“Shall we sit?” Jensen motioned to his sofa. You nodded. “Want something to drink? Beer, whiskey, water?” “I’ll take a whiskey.” “Sure thing sweetheart.” He grabbed two small glasses and poured some whiskey. He handed you one and he took the other.
Taking the glass to your lips, you parted your mouth allowing the amber liquid to pour into your mouth. Jensen swallowed hard as he saw your tongue sweep over your lip, licking the alcohol off. He placed his glass to his lips and you saw how his bottom lip clung to the rim of the glass. A shiver went through your body.
You downed your drink, and Jensen did too. The sexual tension was intense. You set your glass down and stood over Jensen. He leaned over, sitting his glass on the table, and pulled you onto his lap.
You placed your legs on either side of his and leaned up to kiss his lips. Jensen’s hands ran up your sides and into your shirt. You moaned. Jensen’s lips ghosted yours, “So beautiful”.
As Jensen’s hands went up your shirt he lifted it off and over your head. Revealing your red lace bra. Your fingertips played with the hem of his shirt and he leaned forward helping you remove it.
His chest was toned and dusted with freckles that matched the ones on his face. You moved your hips down onto him, feeling his hardness in his pants. Leaning forward you kissed his lips.
As you pulled back, inches from his lips you whispered, “I need you Jensen, please.” Jensen stood and lifted you like you weighed nothing, “Come on sweetheart, let’s go upstairs.”
He sat you down and the two of you bounded up the stairs towards his room. Giggles and laughter filling the house as the two of you made it to his room.
He pulled you in and closed the door with his foot. Jensen guided you back to the bed and you sat down. He leaned you back and put his fingers in your waistband. You nodded and he removed your pants.
Leaving you in your red lace bra and matching panties. Jensen let out a growl. You bit your lip. “You are so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” Your cheeks filled with a blush as deep as crimson.
Jensen removed his pants, leaving him in his boxers. You could see his hardened member through the material. The anticipation started to build.
You leaned up and kissed Jensen as he unhooked your bra, letting your breasts spring free. His lips trailed down your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
The scruff from his beard rubbed against your delicate skin. Your breath quickened as he kissed and sucked your nipples.
Throwing your head back, you moaned loudly. You felt his thick cock on your thigh and you moved so you could tease him.
“Mmm yes baby. You like that?” You nodded enthusiastically. Jensen’s fingers played with the waistband of your panties. You nodded and he pulled them off quickly. Almost ripping the delicate material.
You gasped and he grinned. His fingers found your folds. “Already dripping wet for me? You just can’t wait to have this cock can you darlin’?”
You bucked your hips into his hand. “Jensen please” you whined. “Mm such a needy birthday girl, aren’t you.” You shook your head yes.
Jensen inserted two fingers into your pussy and you gasped. His fingers were thick. He hooked them up and had you wiggling under him. His thumb rubbed circles on your engorged clit.
“Mmm yes, Jensen. Just like that baby. Please make me cum.” You begged. Jensen smirked watching you coming undone under him and just by him using his fingers.
He pulled his fingers out, you were so wet his fingertips were wrinkled. You whined at the loss of feeling, “Mm Jensen why’d you stop.”
“Cause I want to taste this pretty little pussy.” Jensen started kissing up your thighs. His beard rubbing on the skin up to your pussy. It felt deliciously rough. He dived into your pussy like a man starved. Lapping at your juices while he sucked and nibbled your clit.
You moaned and wiggled under him. He gripped your thighs, holding you in place as you screamed out his name. “Oh Fuck, Jensen! Right there!” Your hands went into his hair and pulled him further into your pussy.
Jensen smirked and kept working towards your release. “Yes baby! Oh god! I’m gonna cum!” You screamed as your released hit. Jensen started licking and sucking harder. You tried to close your legs but his strong arms kept them open.
He licked you until you had three orgasms and your legs were jello. As he lifted his head he saw you completely exhausted from cumming. His face was soaked with a mixture of sweat and your release.
Jensen leaned up and kissed you. You were tasting your juices on his lips. Jensen got off the bed and removed his boxers, “you ready sweetheart?”
You looked up at him and nodded. “Yes, Jensen. Please take me.” He grabbed a condom from the side table and pumped himself a few times before putting it on.
When he was ready he got in between your legs and started to push in. He was stretching you in the most intense way. It was a mixture of pure pleasure and pain.
Jensen saw your discomfort and leaned down kissing your lips. “You’ve got to relax a little bit baby. I promise it won’t hurt for long.”
You relaxed a bit and Jensen pushed in all the way. When he bottomed out you gasped and Jensen did too. His head went into the crook of your neck. “Sorry baby. You’re so tight I need a minute.”
You giggled a little. You bucked your hips into him and he started to move. His thrusts were perfectly timed and smooth. Your hands gripped his shoulders as he would pull out and push back in.
“Oh Jensen. You feel so good. Oh god, keep going baby.” You moaned.
Jensen sped up and little then pulled out completely. “Get on top of me baby. I want to see you ride my cock.”
Jensen laid on his back and helped you straddle him. Once you lined him up you sat down. Taking him all at once.
Your hands landed on his chest and your head dipped forward. This new angle was so intense.
You started to ride him. Rocking your hips back and forth. Jensen’s eyes were locked on you. His hands on your breasts as you bounced up and down.
“Yes baby! So fucking beautiful. Taking my cock so good. You look incredible bouncing on me.” Jensen leaned up and kissed you.
He was close to his release, so Jensen bent his knees and gave you some extra support. He thrust up into you as you continued bouncing.
“Yes, just like that baby. Oh Y/N I’m gonna cum.” “Mm cum for me Jensen.” Jensen’s hips bucked one more time and you felt his cock twitching inside you as he emptied his seed in the condom.
When he was done you climbed off and laid beside him. The sounds of panting filled the air.
“Damn that was incredible, Y/N.” You smiled and kissed him softly.
He got up and walked to the bathroom to remove the used condom. When he was finished Jensen returned to you in the bed.
Grabbing a sheet he covered the two of you up. “Happy Birthday, darlin’. I hope you had a wonderful day.” You kissed his lips again, “I did Jens, thank you. I love you baby.” “I love you too.”
Jensen pulled you into his arms and kissed your head. “Oh, I haven’t given you your birthday present yet.”
“Jens you didn’t have to get me anything. You already give me so much.”
Jensen smiled, “it’s not much. I just had to get it for you. Close your eyes.”
You closed your eyes and smiled, holding out your hand.
You heard Jensen chuckle as you felt him climb out of bed.
“Okay, open your eyes” he said softly.
You opened your eyes and saw Jensen kneeling by the side of the bed with a box in his hand.
“Y/N, I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you two years ago. You make me smile, you're one of my best friends, you make me feel safe and so incredibly loved. You keep me on my toes and always laughing. You’re one of my biggest supporters and I know you’ve always got my back. Would you please do me the distinct honor of becoming my wife?”
A tear slipped out from your eye, your hands were trembling and your heart was hammering in your chest. You looked at Jensen’s green eyes, so full of love. You smiled, pulled him into a deep kiss and said “yes” against his lips.
You pulled back and he slipped the diamond on your finger. “I love you, Jensen. I can’t wait to marry you.”
“I love you too, baby and I can’t either. Happy Birthday, my love.”
He kissed you again and climbed back into the bed with you. Jensen pulled you into his arms and the two of you drifted off to sleep.
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