#NO WORRIES MAN always take your time!
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finished (please reblog that one!)
don't know shit about this fandom but my friend showed me the youtube videos and i was like oooooo… i have no idea what kinger looks like.
anywho; sketches. will probably clean these up & color properly at some point bc jax got so stretched that he is approximately 3 pixels now. but until then i figured i'd just put it out here bc i have to do college instead of drawing now!
#lychee's trash art#tadc#the amazing digital circus#tadc gangle#tadc zooble#tadc ragatha#tadc pomni#tadc jax#tadc fanart#probably won't make any more but who knows; you never know#have not really posted as of late but oh god the world is burning and i'm going to fail so yay#side tangent but in my head pomni is soooo filipino and i can't explain why;;;;#if there's elements of other people's designs sorry i just kinda scroll and absorb sometimes#if anyone sees this yell at me if you want credit and i'll take your word for it#i'm queuing this at three am as per usual... if this wasnt scuffed id be worried to miss something#y'know the Critical Detail. always happens man.#(3am = the only time left to draw if i'm lucky)#tadc human
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In the days since being placed under his charge, the Apprentice had never seen Lord van Zieks react quite like that.
Not that the two men were ever comfortable around each other, but the flicker of hesitation, of uncertainty, on his mentor's face after his question was unexpected. And yet, something about it was almost...comforting: it made the man seem like less of a brick wall veiled in a title of nobility, and more like a real, genuine person. Oddly, it gave the Apprentice a fleeting glimmer of hope.
All he'd managed to glean from observing his mentor was that the title of "Reaper" was well-known and unfavorable to all who uttered it. But if, even in the smallest moments, he showed that he could be more than just "the Reaper"...
Could the Apprentice also become more than just his shadow?
Two shakes of his head answered both of Lord van Zieks' questions. On the contrary, Lord Stronghart had been far from forthcoming with information about himself or his mentor—despite volunteering the both of them to be his caretakers. The Apprentice knew as little about the two of them as he knew about himself.
He watched the other man attentively, expectantly, hawk-like eyes shrouded by his mask.
It's the first time Barok has heard Kazuma speak.
And it's difficult not to recoil at the question. Hearing such a raw, raspy voice from his apprentice's lips... it's not unsettling, but the faint hint of an accent that's awfully familiar is, and there's something even underneath all that that has Barok feeling on edge.
It's not a feeling he can make sense of... but it's thoroughly unpleasant, and for a moment, it feels as if his sins have come back to haunt him. Which is a ridiculous thought. There may indeed come a time when Barok must receive punishment, for all that he has done and all that he has failed to do, but... why would it be at the hands of this man? No, he can't accept that his fate would come from the hands of a loathsome Nipponese.
...But there's also the question his apprentice asked, that strangely, he doesn't know how to respond to immediately. Because... in Barok's experience, everyone has always known what it means for him to be the Reaper. The people of London look at him with fear and scorn in equal balance, and Barok can't deny that it's a painful, lonely existence - but never one he's had to explain to another before. The Reaper is a shadow he can't escape. He's used to accusations, both spoken and unspoken, but a question like this... why does it feel different?
"Did Stronghart not tell you?" he asks, first. He feels no need to scold his apprentice for speaking and breaking Stronghart's orders - as much as he's sure that Stronghart must have his reasons, Barok's sure that he must've also known that this particular command of his could ever last.
"The Reaper is... a title. One given to me a long time ago." Unconsciously, his hand drifts to his badge, and he clutches it gently. "Are you familiar with the history of the defendants whose trials I prosecuted? Particularly, those who escaped justice through their own conniving schemes."
@howthesleeplesswander ( continued from here! )
#aletheialed#《⭒✩⭒ || interaction: sword of justice (kazuma) 》#《⭒✩⭒ || verse: masked apprentice (kazuma) 》#NO WORRIES MAN always take your time!#I also apologize for taking so long on this! alsjdfdk#I'M SO STOKED FOR THIS THO THESE TWO ARE SO GOOD 🙌#thank you for allowing barok to be terrorized by this low-key unhinged menace X'D#ALSO I apologize for how NOT TALKATIVE kazuma is in this verse 8')#odds are he won't answer verbally most of the time bc he's too busy trying to remember how to be a person asldjf#just lmk if he ever doesn't give you enough to work off of and I can adjust! <3
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im like the lorax when it comes to women's body hair. we should let it grow.
#eliot posts#the other day my roommate was talking abt how she hates shaving#but does it anyway bc she doesn't want people to be mean to her about her body hair#and i was like yeah i mean i used to#also worry about that bc my mother was always so fucking cruel to me when i didn't shave#but as an adult i find that it's extremely rare that anyone even mentions it (tho my body hair is pretty light so that could be a factor)#but even when people are shitty i find that i no longer give a shit about what what those idiots have to say about my body#but i understand that that can be a hard step to take so if you need to keep shaving for your own comfort then i won't judge#but on the inside i was just like#*ibuprofen hand meme* ''let's get called disgusting hairy d*kes together <3''#i had a great time showing off my pit hair at the pool today!#(i get read as a woman when im swimwear cuz i can't hide my body as much. so i get read as a hairy masculine woman.)#i show off my leg hair every time i wear shorts but like. my leg hair is Pathetic#i look practically prepubescent vis a vis my leg hair (my mother still calls it disgusting lmao)#but my pit hair is pretty good#i occupy a weird gendered place in society where i am more of a man in identify but society genders me as a woman#the only time i feel remotely okay being seen as a woman is when i am seen as a BAD woman. a woman who cannot/will not be A Proper Lady#it's not an entirely ACCURATE view of me but there's Something in it
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Could you explain your position on Shallura? Since Allura was established as a teenager when she started dating Lance and Shiro was very clearly an adult. I can understand the bi shiro headcannon but the shallura thing worries me
i am going to remind yall that i have been in this fandom since 2016. and in the early seasons, allura was not established as a teenager. in fact she was coded as older, as closer to shiro's age -- there was a specific divide between her and the younger paladins that she did not have with shiro. they made her younger (both explicitly and in mannerisms) as the show went on. and i do not give a fuck about voltron like...post s4 and i didn't even watch s7-8. so like. especially with older fics, im going to enjoy shallura.
#also this is less relevant and i was going to put it in the main post but i cant find the words for it#but i found your last sentence kind of condescending. “the shallura thing worries me” as if i am your little project and things arent going#to plan. as if you are the Knower Of All Things and i am straying from my path lol. twas odd#and this is a controversial thing to say i know it but like#we take fandom way too seriously. if someone decides in fic to make two characters the same age to ship them or whatever. do we really need#to get the torches and pitchforks. like i can understand discomfort when people ship like shiro and pidge or something but. also. i feel#like you can just block and move on?? like i dont ship sheith bc they are brothers. to me. but also i dont think sheithers should be#harassed or any dumb shit like that. i think its so so whatever like theyre Lines man theyre moving lines#at the same time i understand that peoples headcanons can be reflective of their worldviews (like when racism/transphobia/sexism shine#through someone's headcanons/characterization) but how much scrutiny is too much? when do we get to remember that fandom is a place to#work with the FICTIONAL? where you can change details without consequence? i saw a fic where keith was the older sibling and shiro was the#younger once. it was a good fic. how come we can play with ages but only when the Fandom Council approves?#i guess this is a really long and clumsy way to say like. you do not own the fandom nor do you get to dictate my work. and while there#is always room for necessary criticism please also think critically before you post your criticism#anyways#rant#ask
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Lol
#theres nothing quite like your mother saying Well maybe you shouldve been more careful because now your boss might think youve been flirting#with this male coworker (whom i like splendidly as a friend) and now maybe she thinks youre not trustworthy#and maybe she regrets hiring you because you said you feel like youre making a lot of mistakes this week and she might assume thats because#your head is filled with this boy.#so dont make her regret hiring you.#MA'AM I TOLD YOU I WAS ALREADY ANXIOUS BECAUSE I MADE SO MANY MISTAKES TODAY WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME ASHAMED#OF SOMETHING THAT I HONESTLY HAD NO CLUE I OUGHT TO BE ANXIOUS ABOUT AT MY FIRST NEW JOB AFTER IVE GRADUATED????#anyway going to bed i cant take this anymore LOL she said it so lightly and im like. well i never even considered#being afraid of making my boss regret hiring me somehow because of some kind of behaviour that i had no idea was sending some kind of signal#anywaysssss 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#and then she was like why are you crying?? 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀#not to be like this is partly why i didnt want to move home but confound it all why are things like this#can i not simply confide in my mother my anxieties and worriws#worries#and not also have to worry about her potentially being like Well have you considered you ARE right and it IS your fault?#idk man something something firstborn child eldest daughter can i have some room to breathe. please#also not to whine but Not my father walking in on me eating dinner at 10pm because i was holed up#in my room in a semi depressive state after so many gong shows in a work day and straight up having no appetite#but deciding my body needs the food anyway its better late than never.....walking in and then saying#you know if you eat this late you'll gain weight. SIR??????????????????#sorry to complain and rant again i simply cannot in this house and whats more am doing my best to honour my parents#but why is it so hard out here and how can they say stuff like that with a smile!!!!!!!#also i DO have an inner critic who is always like Its your fault you are the worst you should be ashamed always........why do my parents#not understand after knowing me for so long and watching me grow up#that i can make myself so ashamed of the smallest thing so easily and that what they say drives me to shame almost as easily?#ANYWAY LOL WHAT A DAY#you guys!!! i am working so hard i promise i PROMISE I am!!! it is my first full time job ever and i am working so so hard#i am doing my absolute best and no one sees it and that is FINE i just wish my parents would see that i AM trying!!#i come back home so dead every single day because i put in 120%! this is literally my first job after graduation#and my parents KNOW this has been the most exhausting taxing and soul crushing year ive had in my very short life so far
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Is this fanfic friendly? I feel like an outlier.
I guess this is my sign it's time to throw together a FAQ post to link to lol.
Yes, every event for this blog is fanfic friendly :D
Though as I mentioned on my Ominous October post, for events that include multiple short stories, I encourage everyone to flex their creativity and take one of their planned short story fanfics, and at least *attempt* to turn one of them into something entirely original; rebuilding a character and story from the ground up to stand on its own two legs is no easy feat, and that is what makes it so fun!
It really gets your creative gears turning, to make an "au of an existing material" to be something entirely original, and you can be pleasantly surprised about the things you come up with!
As a few people say, its not just a matter of "filing the serial numbers off" -- you have to add in just as much *or more* as what you take out when you are turning a fanfiction into something that is original and completely divorced from its original source material / inspiration, and that is a hard, but very rewarding challenge!
Obviously, this is not a requirement (there's no hard requirements for any of the challenges, other than no cheating, including no using AI),
but if you would like an extra challenge for the short story events and you're planning on doing entirely fan-fiction, I highly recommend trying it out at least once, and seeing where it leads you--
you may find yourself pleasantly surprised by what you find down that rabbit hole!
#replies#novella november#long rambly tags to follow lol#including anti royalist / anti billionaire shit#ominous october#this is what my novella november is going to be#something that WAS a huge earth-shattering fanfic AU#but before I even got past a WIP Oneshot I'd already realized that what I was planning was going to turn canon so far on its head it would#be unrecognizable and it would be much better off and more coherent if I made it entirely original#so now it is!#not only does this involve changing every single characters name#everyone is now a completely different species other than human because thats always fun#and of course we're also tackling all the issues that had annoyed me in omega verse fics since I was like 14 and liked the#creature aspects but hated the biological essentialism and misogny / caste systems#if your fantasy people have an enforced caste system you gotta actually treat that like the horror and systemic oppression it is#not just say 'biological = right' like dude what do you think people have been saying about real women this whole time????#people literally insist women are biologically inferior to men do you really think supporting that idea is going to make you sound#progressive just because your main character is a tomboy independant woman?#also like she lost all her independence as soon as she found a man to marry so uhhhhh#what happened to being ready and willing to hit the bricks if people kept talking down to you and condescending you for being a woman????#why did you go from independant badass tomboy to fainting damsel who spends all her time worrying about failing to produce an heir#so her husband can take power#instead of just straight up telling your husband#'hey I don't want to deal with the bullshit from your father how about we do the-#- socially acceptable thing and just go off to make our own independant settlement with some of the villagers who are on your side'#like your husband would literally be escstatic about this idea of finally getting out from under his dad's tyrannical thumb#and its more like way more than half the villagers would go with you not just a handful#theyve been sick of the kings shit for years and only your husband's potential rise to rule kept them in check#cus he actually cares about the villagers and goes among them#while still clearly having some biases to work through when it comes to class and gender equality
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i think having TF2 as a special interest really early in my childhood influenced so many things about myself and my identity.... my gender is big men my sexuality is big men and my sense of humour is big men. i even named myself after the "very tiny and scrawny but still big" big man and i think about all the big men in TF2 on a semi daily basis,,,,,, anyway yeah i like the men in TF2 :)
#tf2#this post is nigh incomprehensible#this is the true effects of autism...... having such a big special interest that it literally influences half of your entire sense of self#i think this is why i feel gender euphoria playing crusty old source games#like i literally feel so connected to TF2 it's crazy#i'm currently listening to a TF2 YTPMV and have it in the corner of my screen and my brain is just going ''ahh... the song of my people''#i look at scout tf2 and i go ''he is just like me!!!''#man's got adhd and likes being an asshole to the other team on the battlefield and if that isn't relatable i don't know what is#i also occasionally play as engineer and i always put my sentries in the most bitchy spots ever#like you're taking a stroll over to the point and you're like ''oop. level 3 sentry that i can't get rid of because the fucker behind it-#-won't stop helicopter parenting it. welp.'' that's my gendar#scout main to engineer main redemption arc to scout main villain arc because my sentries kept exploding pipeline#that made absolutely zero sense.#i usually play on training mode because i'm too shy to play on casual again yet and let me tell you#the amount of times i've yelled at the engineer bots because they just won't build a damn dispenser next to their sentries is insane#like maintaining a sentry would be SO MUCH EASIER if you just built a dispenser nearby. like.#when you play engie you start to not even worry about your health anymore because you're too concerned with your metallic kids to care#it's like ''oh i'm at 2 hp. wow. OH SHIT MY SENTRY GOT HIT ONCE AND LOST A SINGLE BAR OF HP I NEED TO HEAL HIM!!!!! MY SON!!!'#and you never end up dead somehow because dispenser#and when you do die it's like torture looking at the spectating cam and seeing your sentry get shot at and not being there to help it#it's like ''nooo... my son.... please i need to heal my son..... i can't bare to watch''#i should invest in a wrangler.... hmmmm......#anyway this post is... so autism! it's great we love to see it!#autism#i'm very tired yet feel very energised.... i'm having a neurodivergent moment hang on#spy sappin my executive functioning#my brain is literally just 3 scouts and 2 engineers doing do si do with 'erectin a river' blasting really loud at the moment#YIPPEEKIYAHIYAAAAAHYKIYO - my brain when special interest
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sometimes I wish I was a more interesting + charismatic person just so I could keep conversations going bc I like sharing space with other ppl but they routinely lose all interest and leave once I run out of things to say/start talking abt things that don't concern them :-(
#and boy do I run out of things to say so fast when I'm talking to friends who ik dont give a fuck abt any of my interests...#theres only so much i can make small talk or ask them questions abt their own interests/lives yknow. man#it just makes me feel like im constantly competing with smth else for other ppls attention all the time + constantly losing#eg. when i say smth + my flatmate reaches for her headphones a little dark souls banner appears across my vision like INTERACTION FAILED#and i can feel my rsd + insecurities praying on it like the more i feel this way the more it prophetically fulfils itself#by making me less willing to try and take up space so i become a smaller and smaller person around others#it frustrates me a lot sometimes and i dont rly have the will rn to undo that and force myself to take up more space regardless#ik this sounds like a water is wet complaint like oh nooo woe is me people get bored of me when i talk abt boring things (!!)#but when im spending time w ppl i like i enjoy listening to them talk even if im not interested in the subject bc its Them talking#and if they care abt smth then its worth hearing abt!! to me anyway. but it rly feels like no one reciprocates that idk#oh well not that it matters. at least i like the shit im into so i can talk to myself abt it in my head or on this site lmao#and i like myself as a person even if other people dont so theres always that. ur no 1 should always be urself <3#voicing this makes me feel so stupid + embarrassed urgh. i hate being anxious abt dumb shit i hate being the sort of person who worries#that their friends privately dislike/just tolerate them or whatever bc id never want a friend to worry abt whether i thought that abt them#and im not naturally a very insecure person!! i think im just feeling particularly vulnerable atm bc of the season + jobhunting so long#+ the fact im dissatisfied with my current social life + still feel very wobbly from not having other ppl i can trust or rely on etcetcetc#and thats just bleeding into other areas. and it sucks a lot. but theres nothing to be done abt it rn bc im not going to communicate it#to other ppl bc im not pathetic enough to make my anxieties someone elses problem + beg for pity attention im too proud for that 👍#anyway. gonna play some noita + then i rly need to work out today bc thats probs part of why im feeling so shite#if ur reading this ignore me im just venting itll pass. i hope youre having a nice day :^)#.vent#.diaries
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i miss how they used to model teeth
#snap chats#GREAT posts to take out of context#anyway no let me speak cause i really am not a fan of how everyone has the same set of teeth now. its really uncanny#remember they took kiryu's buck teeth from us....... remember what we lost....#also im p sure im just seein it and its a trick of the light or angle or whatever but sometimes chara's might have crooked teeth#like for some reason my brain keeps telling me one of mine's bottom front teeth is crooked#idk i think its just cause im looking at it while he talks and so it doesnt look straigh#BUT I CAN SAY i really miss how the teeth actually used to be different sized instead of just. The Same Size#anyway unrelated. but slightly related cause this the cutscene that always makes me think of teeth.#the way mine looks at katase really makes me go insane like ouuuugggghh he's so happy she's worried about him.....#his words say not to worry but i see the smile in his eyes. and on his face.#its a very VERY small smile and it might not exist to a lot of people but he's definitely smiling#it makes me insane he looked so gentle... im love him your honor I Repeat why did rgg have to make such a gorjus man#anyway. finished the thing i was sketchin to finish at another point in time so ima go work now BYE
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remember when matpat was like "BY THE AMOUNT OF MINIMUM WAGE MIKE IS MAKING WE CAN DEDUCE THIS GAME TAKES PLACE IN 1987" youre fucking INSANE dude. THE CHECK LITERALLY SAID "20XX" ON IT
#ooc#it makes me so. ggh.AAAHHHHHH#I CANT ARTICULATE WHY IT MAKES ME SO MAD#BUT IM GOING TO TRY#FNAF THEORIES ARE ALWAYS FOCUSED ON THE LOGISTICS OF THE SERIES AND WHAT 'MAKES SENSE' FOR THE TIME PERIOD AND WHAT MAKES SENSE AS PER NUMB#NUMBERS** AND I THINK THIS IS PROBABLY BECAUSE MATPAT HIMSELF DOES NOT THEORIZE IN A FICTIONAL META FANTASY WAY#MATPAT TAKES FANTASY FICTIONAL STORIES AND TRIES TO APPLY REAL LIFE LOGIC AND MATH TO IT TO MAKE SENSE OF IT#WHICH IS OKAY. GO RIGHT AHEAD. DO THAT#BUT THAT IS NOT WHAT *FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDYS* IS ABOUT AND I DOUBT IT WAS A COMPONENT SCOTT CAWTHON WAS FUCKING WORRIED ABOUT WHEN WRITING#THE STORY CONSIDERING 99% OF SCOTTS INTIIAL WORK WAS FANTASTICAL RIDICULOUS COMEDY FANTASY SHIT ABOUT TALKING COFFEE POTS#AND JESUS!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE. BONAFIDE JESUS!!!!!!!!! I DONT THINK THIS GUYS DOING THE FUCKING MATH FOR HIS FICTIONAL STORIES#I THINK SCOTT CAWTHON LIKE *MOST OTHER ARTISTS WHO TELL STORIES ABOUT SHIT LIKE THIS* CARED MORE ABOUT THE EMOTIONAL REACTIONS THEN THE#LITERAL FUCKING MATH OF THE YEARS OR THE DATES OR THE PAYCHECKS OR THE FUCKING ANIMATRONICS PISTONS#okay yelling moment over im not actually that mad im just really impassioned#i love art. i love fictional stories. i love emotionally driven stories. i love abstraction. i love symbolism. the game is full of it!#but i feel like when you sit there and argue with the story *itself* about what its about youre missing the point of the story at all#and youre missing the forest for the trees my man
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found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?
#i didnt really get to process it bc i found out when i was hanging w a friend but. im processing it now#sigh.. i dont know. i dont know.#at the end of the day he is and has always been someone else's cat. i can't control what she does with him#no matter what i think of it. she can always take him away. but every time it happens im just. im tired yknow?#it's worth it to me to have him around. i love him dearly and i want him to be in a home where he's actually cared for (which i have done my#best to provide) but he's just. not mine. and every time it happens i back up and think man. im such a sucker.#i don't think people manipulate me often. not in an ongoing way i mean. i don't think ppl see me as valuable enough to most of the time.#but damn. she really found my weak spots didn't she. free petcare courtesy of one chump who can't live without animals around. sigh#he deserves stability but he deserves love more. this weird shared custody thing is better for him i think. and frankly i also love him.#im not the priority here but my feelings are like. there. him being taken away without even telling me first hurts. i'd like to be able to#say goodbye to him. im not saying he has to stay or this has to go on but couldn't they just.. consider my feelings a bit more?#just bc you're fine with dropping your cat off somewhere for weeks not knowing when you'll see him again and not visiting doesn't mean i am#and i kind of feel like my roommate is part of this. after all it's not like his owner can just break into our room and take him#and if im always out when they do it there's a chance roomie's just shipping him off whenever she gets sick of him.#she's done it before. even after she agreed so vehemently with me about never wanting him to go back to such treatment and stuff early on.#she's been spraying him for little reason lately too. and i mean i get being a little more cautious with some things bc her neck's broken#but she's really fixated on how much he smells and bites and stuff and talks about how if i wasn't around she'd consider eating him#and then other times she's like that's my pookie. i don't get it. like yeah i tell rascal to fuck off sometimes bc he hurts me but it's not#like a hateful thing. i dont resent him for it i'm just annoyed sometimes bc he's maiming me a little. he's my baby. how could i loathe him?#so it makes me think that roomie might be blaming his transfers on his owner bc she doesn't want me to judge her#and like. this is her room too. it's not her fault she's more bothered by the smell than me. if she doesn't want to be bitten and clawed all#the time i can sympathize. i don't wanna force her to house him. but i wish she'd just be honest with me i guess#like. what if his owner decides to give him away without telling me? i'd take him in in a heartbeat. even though i know it's a bad idea.#but i'm worried he'll fall out of my reach completely. and at the very least I'd like to be able to say goodbye first. that's all.
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i wear a lot of skirts and pink and whatnot as my style has developed with me & my personality but when one of those age regression girlies latch onto me....i do not like that
#like oh....you think im one of them...bestie no im freshly 23 and im happy i made it this far i dont wanna go back#sometimes i hate being 5'2 with a small frame you have to be very careful and kinda vet everyone you interact with#idk there's a complex discussion to be had. i am someone who has went through what they fetishize and i know a lot of girls in that#community have too. so i worry a lot if if my behaviors and preferences accidentally align with that community in ways i don't realize#bc trauma will always reveal itself. idfk. when i was 20 i got in a relationship with a man who was 30 because i misheard him and thought#he was 24. i thought he was okay until we were at this giftshop and he wanted to get me something but as giftshops are super expensive#i mentioned i could fit in childrens clothes and it saves me a lot of money ($60 shoes are $30 for kids) and tbh fit my frame better#so he was “prove it” so i did and mf said “THATS HOT” ??????????? BITCH#my style wasn't even feminine in the slightest at the time 😑 it feels like a curse to have this kind of trauma then never outgrow this body#believe me ik how trauma changes your brain but how#as a woman#can you ever be apart of that community? why do you allow this to continue and not persecute these men for existing?#you're inherently enabling it and saying its okay this happened to you and its okay that other adults can hurt other kids#when my rapist got put in prison i screamed i yelled i sang i danced my friends set off FIREWORKS for me#when he got out i cried more than i ever have. i moved STATES (not the sole rzn but nonetheless) not that i was in the one he was in prison#in anyways but i was so fucking petrified he'd find me again. its embarrassing but i started sleeping with a chastity belt again.#i made more phone calls i ever have in my life to people who have and will get their hands dirty#i understand the self hatred those girls have. i understand the girls who sleep with everyone to take some of their power back.#i even understand the girls who want to get raped if they got assaulted but it never felt like enough for the pain they're experiencing#but please stay the fuck away from me. as someone who has tried to heal and wants every man like that erased from earth.#do not give them an ounce of attention. ostracize them like they're meant to be. leave it to god for their karma they will be dealt with#reckon with your pain and make sure it never happens to anyone else. only the harmed can make the greatest teachers#tbh bro i am disgusted with myself at all that those are the kinda vibes i put out.#what are you supposed to do as a woman when feminity is equalized with infantilism? i think its tone deaf and misguided whem girls are like#i dress this way to contradict societies views!!! babes its a whole cultural issue that requires reviewing and reforming#you are not doing anything revolutionary by wearing frilly skirts and saying im not like them bc they see you and ur automatically boxed in#i dress how i want and say what i want but i know as a individual im not the beacon of a groundbreaking movement#singularily flipping society on its head. dress how you want but be aware of the connotations. you're living in this society here and now#there's consequences that may not be in your favor and youll be assumed to have values that dont align with you and it may break your heart
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amelia suffers from "fandom designated Nice Girl"
#hfjone#said this in a server but i actually think i finally worded it well#this isnt me getting mad at anyone in particular!!! but. i have a lot of thiughts on this#look. shes really nice and kind. she is VERY sweet a lot. but that is not all she is :(#and the only times ppl even WRITE that is when they want to make her. 'Snap?' i guess? or be 'worried about the boys' or smth?#it makes me a little sad :(#because she can and would kick your ass if you deserved it without hesitation#but shes always framed with the others and i. man#idk. wears shirt that says ask me about amelia euler#cus liam is my favorite character. but amelia is VERY important to me and high up there#shes an incredibly written person but people often . mute her character so bad and im like :(#(if they DO make her nice but capable of kicking ass they often . exaggerate that too anyway#like early 2000s cartoon girl whos 'nice but doesnt take bullshit!!! and looks out for her boys >:(' if that makes any sense#idk idk if this is coherent! i just have so many thoughts on her#(also yes this was prompted cus my amelia bloodshed post is getting more notes qnd that makes me VERY happy!!!)#ADDITIONAL note: this wasnt prompted by any recent posts in the tag i promise. just a general thing!!!
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Animals - G.S.
Synopsis. Yes, your best friend is secretly an alpha. Yes, he acts like a fúcking anímal when he rúts. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alíve.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Gojo, rúts, best-friends-to-lóvers, creampíes, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, knots, MARATHON SÉX, overstím, knots, MATÍNG BÍTES, cúmplay, OMÉGAVERSE AU, pússy-spánking, héats tríggered, semi-public, matíng press, oraI (fem), slight bondagé, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 7.0k (uh-oh)
A/N. Nanami always gets the short end of the stick LMAO, anyway hope y’all have the loveliest week <3
“Satoru, you’re being strange.”
Granted, Gojo Satoru acting weird wasn’t anything new.
Especially not when he’s two hours deep into the most droning meeting you’d bribed him into attending as of late - knee bouncing, fingers tapping, head turned towards that firmly shut door like he just wanted to escape. Needed to.
Then again, even you found your attention waning. Finding whispering with your best friend much more interesting than whatever latest mission statistic Yaga had to present.
“M’doing just peachy, sweetheart.” Gojo smiles - but it looks stilted, pained. And even through his blindfold, you already knew his snowy brows were furrowed. “Who’s the one not listening to ol’ man Yaga now?”
You scoff, narrowing your eyes down at his figure beside you - draped over the cool mahogany table as if he owned the place. “Well- you better not be faking sick to get out of this meeting. Again.”
He only hums, “Don’t worry your pretty lil’ h-head about it, m’kay?”
With a final, tired rub at your temples, you’re turning back to Nanami to ask for all the world where Yaga was on his fifty-page report now-
And then, it hits you.
Suddenly.
Something smells sweet.
Like candy - particularly that sugary, strawberry-flavored kind you’ve had to tell Gojo off on more than one occasion for eating too many of. Tilting your head just a bit, you think you could also catch hints of honey and pine, such a strange, hypnotic combination.
“S-Satoru…” your words come out in a syrupy gush, feeling your head whirl.
“Hm?”
And despite yourself, you’re taking in deep, heavy inhales of the air surrounding you. Hungry. Mouth salivating as that heady, perfumed whiff clouds up all your senses. “Do you- hah- what is- do you smell-”
“Ngh- no?” he’s cutting you off with a barely-audible groan, one you probably wouldn’t have even caught if your abilities weren’t so sharpened right now. Gojo’s movements seem sluggish, languid as if he was moving through molasses when he raises up one hand to massage the back of his neck.
You can only watch as his head droops down onto the long table with a wince.
Strange. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have almost thought-
No, there was no time to be entertaining wild conspiracies. Because at this very moment you’re too caught up flitting through the dates of all your previous heats in your mind. Urgently.
Three weeks.
Your next heat wasn’t due for another three weeks. So, sure, you didn’t take your suppressants just yet but, that really didn’t matter, did it?
It wasn’t normal for jujutsu sorcerers to be anything other than a beta - and as an omega, you knew firsthand just how difficult it was to fight tooth and nail just to be able to sit at this table.
Historically, any other faction of society would rather be caught dead than outed, and have their second gender be taken advantage of by the very curses you were supposed to exorcize. Forced to face the stigma of alphas and omegas being too “unstable” or “vulnerable” to be trusted with missions.
This was the very thing you’d been trying to avoid ever since you argued your way into studying at Jujutsu Tech - losing control.
Especially now.
But god, you were burning up. It smelled so sexy.
And, taking a sweeping glance around the table of betas - at your fellow sorcerers, those grim elders, and your disheveled best friend - that left only you to explain the scent.
You were only thankful that their noses weren’t as powerful as yours. Clinging onto this as a saving grace, with a shaky gulp, you gently nudge Nanami on his side. “Hey- Ken?”
“Yes?” And maybe it was the heat - whatever this was - but Nanami’s deep baritone sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself leaning in traitorously closer to his heated body. His jaw ticks, “Is something wrong? You look…”
“Satoru’s also-”
“So what?”
Without warning, one of his hands comes to splay out across your forehead. Just a mere touch has him sucking in a sharp gasp, “You feel warm, I think you have a fever. You can’t continue the meeting like this.”
You shake your bleary head in protest.
“I won’t let you.” Nanami’s voice hardens with a tone of finality, and yet, you still find yourself trying to whirl around to look at Gojo. Maybe for help, maybe for a distraction to escape when your colleague speaks again - this time directed at Yaga. “Principal Yaga, it seems my dear friend here is sick.” Circling an arm around your shoulders to pull you up from your seat and onto weak legs. “If you’ll please excuse us, I will escort-”
Nanami stills - everything stills.
Everyone stills when his voice tapers off with a ragged grunt, and you feel his chest heave in unsteady breaths. So close now that you can mark the exact moment Nanami’s eyes widen, “Are you…”
Shit.
Shit shit shit-
“Wait.” Yaga’s voice bellows reproachfully. “Is this- That smell-” But even he can’t find the words, slumping back down into his seat.
Truly, the scent was so saturated now, so primal that even the most stubborn of unmated betas were sneaking peeks at you. You bite your lips raw at another glossy gush from your already-heated cunt. It was so embarrassing - your heats have never acted like this before, let alone come three weeks early.
Sure, perhaps that one time on your very first day at Jujutsu Tech itself - which was embarrassing by itself. And, yet, your mind had never been clearer than it was right now.
Eyes sliding over to a familiar, trembling mop of white hair - never been needier.
Fuck, what was your delirious self thinking-
As if drawn by an invisible string, Nanami’s inching impossibly into your hot proximity, hazel eyes falling half-lidded when he takes in a deep whiff. Grumbling, “My love-” Another. And another. Nose almost grazing your pulse now, “-you’re in-”
Slam!
“Out.”
It’s a threat.
That was the first thought that slammed into you, and then the voice continues, slow, snarling like a predator on the edge of ripping something to shreds. “I won’t repeat myself.”
Before you finally understand, it’s a command.
There’s one strong hand around your front, pinning you against a sculpted chest. Something about it has your pulse booming in your ears, fingers clawing at that pale wrist at your shoulder. Yet, he doesn’t even flinch.
Nanami, however, reluctantly detaches his hands from your body, and you finally have enough strength to look towards the origin of the words. Only for your glassy gaze to meet with a towering Gojo Satoru standing at his full height - when did he even get up?
Jaw clench, sharp canines bared, blindfold dangling haphazardly around his neck - ah, he looked like a man that crawled from hell and back simply to take you all along with him.
With you at lucky number one.
First in his line of sight. Close enough that you can finally smell him.
Oh.
Oh.
And you swear you saw his eyes tint with the faintest blue lightning when your own scent perks up. Boring into you for just a millisecond before narrowing his gaze down at a stupefied Nanami, cracking the kinks in his neck. “Unless ya wanna watch.” He bares the rest of the room with his flooring glare, “Unless all of you want to watch.”
It’s chaos.
They understood - perhaps long before even you did.
Chairs clatter, the desk trembles, and that safe haven of the door is swung open. That weezing council of elders are first to stumble over one another into the hallway, Yaga following shortly with a wordless sigh.
Until the only ones left are you and him - and Nanami.
Blond brows raising, his eyes flit frantically between you and a possessive Gojo. Sputtering out, each word jagged, and dry as if they’re being wrenched from his chest. “What is the meaning of this- We- I thought you were a- a beta.”
Everyone did, and Nanami was speaking what your mind couldn’t right now.
Gojo Satoru always presented himself as a beta - never affected by your heats, never disappearing once every few months for his ruts as you remember Suguru did. He always seemed so normal - perhaps the one thing about him that was. Unaffected by the stupid little trials and tribulations of alphas and omegas in sorcery.
But it was undeniable, he was an alpha.
And taking a deep inhale of his saccharine sweet perfume - so overpowering - he might just be the strongest you’ve ever encountered. How fitting.
“You thought.” Gojo’s voice was clipped, rumbling with a low growl that sent electrifying shivers down to your very cunt. And his tone just makes Nanami jolt. “And I can’t right now so I- fuck-”
Gojo’s body wracks with a violent shudder, making him hunch over - with you in tow. His hot breath puffs out in feverish pants near your ear, abs clenching as another velvety wave of pheromones emit from him.
You mewl when your body is jostled in his toned arms, nudging the very curve of your ass - tight uniform skirt hiking up just enough - so that you push in a slow drag against something rock-hard. Massive. Weeping out in a sticky damp spot that seeps into your skin.
“Hah-” you’re gasping, face swirling to nose up the crook of his neck - where the candied scent was most prominent. “Toru–”
There’s a gasp - and it’s not from you this time.
Both you and Gojo are snapping your dazed heads upwards at a frozen Nanami, his hand shooting to cover his nose. Eyes wild- “I-”
Before thinking better of it, it seems like Nanami opted to keep some part of his sanity as he abruptly turns on his heels without a second glance backwards. Marching robotically, the only moment he stops is once he’s at the doorway. One hand tugging on his suddenly too-tight pants, the other on the doorknob. Eyes still trained forwards when he calls out gruffly, “Don’t break the table, insurance doesn’t cover it.”
SLAM!
Finally alone.
Your vision swims - is the door even locked? Is this- God, you feel hot. So hot - too hot.
And Gojo’s burning up, arms wrapping around you so tight that you could feel the way his skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. He breathes out into your ear, “My pretty girl…”
“Oh sh-shit–” you’re whimpering, big fat tears welling up behind your eyes. And without wasting a second, as soon as it splatters hotly on your best friend’s skin, he licks a long, lazy stripe to lap at the hazy saltiness. Babbling away, “Feel so dizzy hngh- and you- you’re an alpha?”
Honestly, part of you still didn’t want to believe it.
But as soon as he husks out a gravelly moan, as soon as his tongue dips down a wet pathway to the scent gland on your neck - you already know you won’t be making it out of this alive. “Why did you hide it from me?”
“Mhm- fuck! m’sorry.” he grunts into your skin, slightly muffled. Nipping ever-so-slightly, “M’sorry m’sorry- had to- my sudden rut made my- hah, made my pretty omega go into heat, didn’t it?”
His soft palms glide down your trembly body, greedily kneading every dip and curve that comes his way. He’s lost. So, so lost.
Plastering his lips down every inch of skin he could reach, that sweet scent sticking to you like a sloppy second skin. And you can barely even think when you feel his swollen dick just twitch behind you, a fresh wave of swelteringly hot precum sloshing right through your silken skirt.
You whimper when you’re rutting messily back and forth, and he drags a thick thumb to pry your spit-glossed lips open. “Aww, poor baby. Tell me- fuck tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
And all you can really give him right now is a circular swivel of your hips, which evidently wasn’t enough.
Because Gojo’s furious tip only hardens, and he hisses with a slight tug up your skirt. Cold fingers dancing ravenously up the edge of your drenched panties, gliding the very rounded tip of his index slowly across your sopping slit.
“Tha’s not enough.” he snickers, and suddenly you’re hit with another wave of emanating pheromones. Enough to make you just slobber a glistening coating all down his long digits. “Use your ah- w-words like a big girl now. Because when I start…” His teeth find your earlobe, and his fingers find themselves planting a dripping wet slap! across your puffed-up clit. Unwavering. Unapologetic. “I won’t be able to stop.”
“Please, Toru.” That cute little nickname makes him jump, makes him throw his head back with a low moan. Brows scrunching together as if pained. “Don’t want you to stop-”
Maybe you were going to say more - maybe you would’ve called him that nickname and driven him even crazier.
But Gojo doesn’t wait to find out.
In one, fluid motion he’s picking up your body into the easiest princess carry you two would’ve laughed at if this was one of those romcoms you watched together. Just splaying you out on your back across the cool table, he situates himself in the perfect position between your legs.
Oh, how he loved this view. How he’s spent so many ruts just like this imagining this view.
“F-fuck- You have no idea how- how crazy it drove me.” rasping groans drag out from his throat, strained with every slow drag of his cock down the front of your now-see-through panties. “How wild-” You’re nearly screaming when his canines dig in to that soft spot underneath your ear. “-to pretend I didn’t know you smelled so hah- so fucking delicious.”
And then you feel him still - alert, ready.
Chest heaving, an almost chilling tone dipping into his words when he spits, “Except when you smell like him.”
Your jaw falls slack when the temperature in the room heats up another few heady degrees, and the sheer power of your two scents mixing together is almost maddening.
“He- he? Toru, what do you-” you’re gasping out in tiny huffs, while he busies himself with biting and licking down your exposed neck. Enough to leave you smeared all over with marks. “Who- Kento?”
“Oh, sayin’ another man’s name when you’re with- fuck- me?” Gojo’s bucking powerfully into you, his body was pinning you down. Scorching, now. “Such a naughty omega- I should kill him for how he touched you.”
Truly, his alpha was fucking clawing at him to trek out of this room right now and finish off the job - but, no, you were too hypnotic. And Gojo Satoru, the strongest, was no match for you.
The wet thwack of his fingers once more kisses in a rude smack against your clit, making you squeal. Ringing across your thundering ears, he swears at that broken, blissful noise from you. “Fuckin’ oh, would ya let him see you like this, too? Let him touch you like th-this?”
And Gojo looked so starved, velvety blindfold tickling your chin when he leans in close. Lips ghosting your own - but not quite. You’re suddenly brought back to the very first thought you had - that this is about to be a bloodbath.
“I wouldn’t–” you bite back in your honeyed tone, and you can feel your omega just purr in satisfaction. “N’ it’s not my fault that someone-”
Smack! Harder, sprinkled with tiny bolts of electricity.
“Correct.”
It’s breathed out into your mouth - a quick, hedonistic peck. Gojo just taunting your sanity before he’s pulling away with a gruff string of profanity, like it hurt him just as much as it did to you.
You feel your slick dribble down into a saturated puddle below you. And the mere sight of it makes Gojo just reel his hips deliriously forwards, grinding his massive bulge across your dripping cunt until you could see it soil a fountainy dark patch on his pants.
“F-fuckin’-” his eyes roll to the back of his head at how hot you were. How pouring wet. Wrangling your quivering legs painfully stretched open, “-woman of my dreams.”
With two, thick fingers hooked over the hem of your skirt, it’s being torn off in an easy pull. Falling somewhere in a pile of impractical tatters onto the meeting room floor, along with your shirt.
And as soon as it’s off, Gojo’s only growing more feral. More hungry.
He’s drooling from one corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t even notice at this point. Honestly, barely even realizing the burning pain when he falls to the floor on his knees. Clattering haphazardly, insatiably nosing up your jittery inner thighs.
“Oh sweetheart- oh my pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl–” he’s breathing out, head lolling drunkenly against your legs. And Gojo gulps when he spreads your panties away with a wet glide of his thumb, just enough to see your messy hole winking up at him eagerly. All soaked and needy. “M’gonna have so much fun being yours.”
He kisses wetly through your panties - without warning, without even breathing. Just surging his pretty face into the heated crevice between your thighs, taste buds on his pinkish tongue grazing up the soaked fabric.
Like he was addicted.
“Oh- oh my god-” you’re mewling out, lower lip wobbly at every sultry swirl of Gojo’s tongue over your pussy lips, painting your messy hole in every mesh of slick and spit he could conjure up. “It feels too- hah–”
You were always so sensitive during your heats, every single one of your senses heightened to the max. So it made your mind all overwhelmingly melty inside to have his steaming hot mouth on your equally ravenous cunt. Hungry.
Yeah, he was addicted.
Dragging a few fingers in-between your glistening folds, scissoring them shamefully open to spit. Once. Twice.
Some of it splatters strayly onto the start of your thighs, which Gojo glady licks up all over again to stream out a thick wad back onto your silt. Until your cunt was drooling translucent dredges of everything he has to give, he smears his messy thumb in easy rotations around your clit. Filthy.
“So gorgeous- so good f’me.” Gojo titters, biting down teasingly on the very edge of your panties. And he can’t hide that fucked-out little groan when pulls it back, back, back to just snap! it meanly right on your cunt. “Fuck- you taste as s-sweet as you smell, mmm–”
You’re yelping when his long tongue draws a slow circle around the edge of that first ring of muscle, just barely pushing back against how your gummy walls are trying to hug him. To milk him for everything he has.
“S-such a tease-” you whine, fingers tangling into his cloudy white hair. Soft - the silken tresses smoothed over your palm, slotting between your digits when you pull his mouth roughly onto your pussy. “Jus’ want you on me- ngh!”
“Ohh ya can still t-talk easy, huh?” Gojo raises an amused brow from in-between your legs, that won’t be possible soon with how he’s going to have you. “Well then, don’t you dare beg me to go easy on you, girl.”
And he keeps the panties on - fuck, he keeps the panties on when mashing those ragged, rosy lips of his in a steamy make-out with your cunt. It’s as if he was breathing you in, so close that you could feel every clench of Gojo’s jaw, every grind of his chin into the very base of your pussy.
“Sh-shitttt-” he spits, stray wisps of white covering his eyesight. Dragging you on his tongue through pure instinct. “Shit wait- ah you’re so fuckin’ so-”
Unable to even finish his sentences with that usually-sharp tongue of his. No, that tongue right now was too occupied with the steady, repetitive drag along your snug channel. Bullying into your sodden sensitive spots, thrusting back and forth back and forth back and-
And his fingers, oh those infamous fingers were straying back onto the sensitive nub of your clit. Drawing tight, tempestuous circles that have you keening at the dual stimulation, thighs stuttering to an embarrassed close.
“Open.”
It’s just like before - and Gojo’s using that annoyingly baritone tone of his that hits you at your very core, that makes your omega snap open your legs for him.
Even you’re surprised at how pliant your body acts before your mind right now - and so is Gojo. though, his expression doesn’t show it, every bit of that feral animal that scared everyone out of this room not too long ago.
“That’s it- that’s it–” he can’t hold back, hands glued to the globes of your ass to pin you still against his mouth. “Ha- so fuckin’ different when ya listen to me, so fucking sweet.” Breathing in deeply, “Were ya giving off this scent so Nanami could do this, too?”
Thwack!
Another mocking slap against your clit - not enough to make you cry, but with just enough buzzing jujutsu to make your batting lashes teary - forces you to find your words.
And fuck, Gojo swears there’s no sweeter music than the sound of your voice - especially when you’re moaning like that.
Voice breaking into a whine, accompanied by a few raw clenches of your pussy around his furious tongue. “N-no fuck- don’t know-” your hips arch into the most perfect curve he’s ever seen. One that makes his mouth water, cock straining against his pants. “Toru- jus’ want you, wanna cum- wanna- want you so bad.”
Fuck - and who was he to not go along with each and every one of your pretty whims?
Pussydrunken already. He’d read about this - but he really had no clue how potent an omega in heat was, never having spent a rut with one. That little special occasion was always saved for you but, ah, that was a story for another time.
“M’gonna cum- hah- so- close-”
Right now, he couldn’t think of anything other than how gorgeous you would look when you cum. How delicious - your sweetened scent raising up by a few notches, taking over his sentences.
He feels his cock just throb at the mere thought.
Which is why Gojo’s pulling away with one final, sodden kiss on your pussy. You feel the curvaceous curl of his smirk against your cunt, and a deep, filthy inhale.
“Nah.” he smiles a glistening smile up at you - grin glossed all over with a sheen of your sweet, sweet juices. And the rest of his face was almost-obscured with a curtain of his white bangs, but you still think you could peek the glow of his inhuman eyes through them. Powerful. “Don’ think you’re c-cumming anywhere other than on my knot first, pretty girl.”
And he’s so tall that Gojo’s blocking out the dim meeting room lights when he stands up - slow, smug, making you spend each passing second in such anticipation.
Face expressionless - almost hypnotized - when he shrugs his shirt off. Lips parted into a soft oh! eyes half-lidded, heaving he slides his belt off almost lazily.
It clatters! to the ground, and he’s sliding down his drenchingly wet boxers with it - leaving a gleaming trail of precum down the front of his toned pelvis. Letting his achy cock finally spring free, he hisses when it hits the too-cool air.
And you do, too - though, for much different reasons.
Because Gojo’s so unfairly big - fitting, for an alpha of his stature. Blushed the prettiest pink at his rotund head that matched his cheeks right now, gradiating down into creamy tufts of white at his thick base. Showing the starting of his knot swelling. It made you wonder whether he tasted as sweet as he smelled. So hard it looked painful, curving into a long, solid shaft that glides a wet smear across his washboard abs. It makes your omega just preen, rabid to have him inside you right now now now-
“Heh, impatient lil’ thing, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” Gojo huffs out in a heady bout of laughter. “Can practically feel yer omega ngh- calling out to me, is this what you want?”
You claw ferally at the milky display of his back, branding him in your own way. “Yes- please-”
A sudden rip! makes you realize you still had your panties on - up until a few seconds ago, at least. Jostling him ever-so-slightly closer, you mewl when the rounded tip of his angry cock nudges against your pussy lips. Melding into a slight kiss that already makes him stream steaming hot ropes of precum.
And if you were in any better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed the way the light above flicker, fizzing with electricity just as much as you were right now.
“Heheh- oh y-you made me like this, ya realize?” he chuckles out - but his voice didn’t show even a hint of humor. It’s like he was out of control, out of rationality with each languid drag in-between your folds. Babbling, “You threw me into- fuck fuck fuck this is all- your-”
Honestly, Gojo’s so utterly shocked he managed to grit even half that sentence out.
Because every sloppy second has him grinding upwards in the tiniest of ruts into your sung cunt, tiny, mindless grinds that make a low ah! ah! ah! rip from his throat.
“Open that mouth f’me, sweetness-”
As soon as you do, you’re feeling a thick, glossy stream of saliva slosh onto your lolling tongue. Mouth wrenched shut until you swallow - and you do. Happily. Filthily.
That’s enough to make Gojo lose it.
And he’s plunging headfirst into your toasty insides, shoving back that tiny bit of resistance before your elastic walls are milking him so well. Greedily swallowing up every one of his generous inches, and it only seemed like more was to come.
“Oh shit- ohhh sh-shit-” His eyes are rolling to the very back of his head, mouth hanging open, that tiny trickle of drool splatters onto your skin.
“T-Toruu—” your cunt was addictive, and so were those moans of yours. Craning your neck upwards, “Kiss me, please.”
For a second, he’s leaning in - making it seem like he was about to smear that firmly placed gloss all over his lips onto yours. But Gojo only sneaks a peck at the corner of your mouth, then the other - and then one on the tip of your nose.
“I will I will-” he’s musing, giggles bursting from his lips. “Once we’ve mated, can’t get too greedy at once now? Can I?”
But oh how his actions spoke otherwise, because Gojo’s powerful hips absolutely refused to stop until he was well and fully buried into the hot depths of your cunt. Sheathing himself in all your soppingly wet walls, the sheer tightness was enough for him to throw his head back, heavy balls squeezing. In and out in and out.
“Ohhh fuck-” Two hands of his roughly attach themselves to your hips, pitching up your needy whines when he drools down your pussy even more thoroughly. “You sure do make it f-fuckin’ hard though-”
You whine when your ass hits against something bulging and hot, whirling those dazed eyes of yours down at the intrusion.
“Shit-” you’re gasping, eyes widening. And the sheer awe in your eyes is enough to make him grow, blood pumping to every thick inch of his cock until he was expanding even girthier, molding your pliant walls to his size. “That’s your knot- I-I-”
“I-I-I-” Gojo mocks, in a voice octaves higher than usual. Fucking the rest of that sentence with a harsh roll of his hips, knocking bruisingly at your cervix. “C’mon now ah- tell me- you can t-tell me anything.” Kissing softly at your ear lobe, zaps of jujutsu making you jump. “M’your best friend, right?”
How ironic.
All you can gift him in response is a few soft whimpers that only make him wilder.
“Fuck!” you’re keening when another one of his slams leave you gasping for air, feeling like he was clashing into your very womb. Glissading a deep, wet glide of his fat, curved tip across your spongy cervix, his breath hitches at the slight recoil. “I want it-”
Your words make him almost falter with his ruthless pace, and you take it upon yourself to just drag him down by his muscled shoulders. Until he was hunching over you, abs flexing against your front, “I want your hah- knot in m-”
And you can’t even finish the sentence - you don’t know if you want to.
Because just that syrupy jumble of words is enough to make Gojo Satoru snap.
To cut you off with a rough growl, teeth bared at you, in a split-second he has you limp legs thrown over his shoulder. Biceps flexing in such a mouth-watering way when he makes them lock at the ankle, bending down, down, down into the meanest little mating press your joints would allow.
The change in angle has you scrambling - has him scrambling to crash his leaky head into your swollen g-spot. Hitting that bulging bullseye with no regrets - over. And over. And over and over and-
“Oh, marry me sweetheart.” he’s panting into your mouth. His pulsing girth rummaging your insides so good, dragging every ridge and thumping vein on his shaft against your sweet spots. He was so big that you felt like your syrupy cunt had already forgotten what it felt like without him pounding into you. Suckling wetly at the corner of your lips, “Marry me marry me- oh, fuck- gonna give you m-my knot. Don’ think I could go on hah- l-living without ya, pretty.”
He was feral - eyes glowing a blazing blue, sparks of lightning bolting down his milky skin. And you swear with each speeding cadence of his, the lights flickered on and off.
Every slippery smack of his tight, cum-filled balls has you seeing stars, yearning for the additional burning stretch of being plugged by his knot.
You’re throwing your arms over his neck, reeling him in like he was your prey, though his hips were devouring you. “W-we’re not even dating and you want me t-to be your hngh-”
“-wife!” He kisses every inch of your face, down your neck, over that soft scent gland of yours - now so overstimulating his senses with your sweet scent that he’s almost forgotten what his own smelled like. Buzzes of electricity skimming down your skin with each touch. He’s groaning, “Be my wife- please- fuck, I need you to be my wife.” Planting an almost-french kiss on that one sweet spot. Once. twice. “M-my mate- sh-shit-”
And you already knew Gojo was close with the way his pretty eyes are almost fluttering shut, the way his hefty balls clamp. Twitching in desperation, his thickened base pumps in even deeper - harder. As if he was trying to rut every single inch into your clingy depths.
Every single inch.
“Mhm–” you moan, feeling the staggering stretch of his even hotter cock shape your walls. “I wanna- wanna be your-”
You don’t even bother finishing your sentence - and neither does Gojo let you.
Because it only takes a few more sloppy jackhammers before he’s finally sinking his taut knot into you. The stretch is so insane you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, being plugged so suddenly full.
And then you’re hurtling headfirst into your high - toes curling, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes, your spine bowing so sluttily into his. And Gojo-
Oh, Gojo had his mouth sagging open the moment he felt his massive knot intrude against your silken sweet walls, stretching that snug channel around all of him. And he wishes he had the willpower to look down at the heavenly sight, he wishes he could do anything but sink his teeth down hard into your precious scent gland as he cums and cums and cums.
The lights burst, shards deflecting off the limitless he’d coated over the both of you.
Teeth breaking skin, metal tasting on his tongue, scents tangling together into one now.
You do your best to bite him back on his heady neck, breaking through Gojo’s milky skin to reveal a set of pretty pink indents.
Finally yours. Finally his.
“O-oh, pretty girl–” he hiccups, voice cracking. Hips not moving even the tiniest second of momentum while he stuffs your tight pussy full of his potent seed. “My wife- my mate.”
And Gojo almost bawls when the tight lock of his knot prevents him from plunging into you as deeply and thoroughly as he wanted to right now. Sobbing down big fat tears that splatter! against your lips while he kisses your mind dizzy.
You could feel the syrupy slosh of his cum inside you with each one of his dragged-out grinds, milking your orgasm for as long as possible. Unmoving. Unapologetic in how he was spitting out such voluminous loads of milky white seed that overfilled you.
“Shit- so much-” you’re whining, still clinging to him. And you don’t think he even hears you right now, mind blanking. “I feel so full, Toru-”
But you didn’t have to babble out those words for him to know, somehow, he just knew. Knew every single thing about you, but couldn’t dredge up the words to respond.
Too pussydrunken to do anything but bite you on your scent gland all over, he kisses a wet trail up to your lips, “Now you- really hafta m-marry me heh.”
Bang!
Gojo’s fist comes crashing down on the rickety table - it’s too much for him.
Those ringing squelches and the way you were sucking out every single drop of his cum makes his sensitive shaft twitch. Tears blimping up into his eyes again, more and more velvety ribbons ooze out. “My wife- my wife my wife my wife- my mate-”
It’s just about all he can say - like a mantra. Over and over against your lips, until the peaks of your pleasure turn into mere tingles, until Gojo’s own knot is softening down. Slightly.
Just enough that he can pull out-
“Toru, what-”
“Shhh, pretty girl-” He’s kissing your puffed-up clit with another spank from his trembly fingers, and then an actual kiss. Mouth slotting over the mess he’s made below. Grazing all over like a creamy gloss. Filthy. “Rut’s just started.”
His ravenous tongue drags out your overstimulated high, and you’re clinging onto a lock of his snowy hair for dear life.
“Please-” you beg, voice shot. You don’t even know what you were begging for, but god was Gojo Satoru happy to let himself be used. “Please please please, Toru-”
Oh, his fingers tighten on your thighs - imprinting neat patterns of crescents. Animalistic, in how Gojo just drags your twitchy body forwards.
His eyes were drooping shut, gaze crazed - frantic where he looked you right in the eyes from down below. Head craning to ram his stretchy tongue even deeper, quirking up deftly like he’s wanting to bruise his taste buds along your walls.
Slurping at and collecting the creamy mess on his tongue - only to spit it back into your sloppy hole. Messy.
Even with the dark, lightless room - with only those stray sparks of power to accompany you two - such loud squelches echo across his own ears. And just by the noise Gojo could tell how wet you were - as if you weren’t drooling over the lower half of his face, up to his cheekbones, already.
Sticking to your inner thighs in an obscene drip! drip! drip!
It’s so shameful and you love it.
And you love that you’re so cockdrunken that you aren’t even sure when you’re cumming - if you’re cumming. Whether those sudden crashes of pleasure were because of your nth orgasm tonight, or because of the way Gojo kisses you with another thwack!
Adrenaline and electricity coursing through your veins, ears thundering with your rapid pulse. Oh god, you never knew a heat could feel this good - this maddening.
You moan, and he’s eagerly lapping up every sweet bead of slick you have to offer, like a man that hasn’t had an ounce of water in weeks. Brows furrowed, jaw sagging open-
“Shit shit shit-” he’s rasping out, and the very slide of his fingers across your skin sends waves of powerful jujutsu - somehow bunching at your clit just right. “M’cumming- m- m’still cumming fuck- won’t- stop-”
Just as soon as your orgasm is ending, Gojo’s is just starting. Like he’d been holding back on this from the moment he’d started eating out your overspilling pussy - happily.
And exactly on time, too, because you barely even have the time to catch your breath before Gojo’s standing on his two unsteady feet. Just splitting you open on all of his red, raw inches - uncaring for your little mewls and those tears.
Because you were sucking him up madly.
Spearheading his swollen cock into you like he was trying to fuck another orgasm out of you. His strokes are long, harsh, showing off all the years of strength he built up boasting the title of the strongest.
And this hastily put-together mating press has his cum just overspilling out of you by now, dribbling down in wet globs that made you wonder how much more he could fill you up. It seeps in a white circle underneath your ass, slicking you back and forth along the wood at each harsh ram.
Again. And again. And again and again and-
“Made me this- hngh- this way, y’know?” he spits into your mouth - followed by a slurred string of swears. Every time his heftily smacking balls clench, you could feel the table creak under pressure. “Sat next to me with that fucking skirt- smelling so fucking- ngh- good- do you even know how delicious ya are?”
You can’t answer - because he’s back to squeezing in his staggering knot into you. Sparks exploding out from the corner of his scrunched-up eyes, forehead knocking into yours.
Gojo kisses you like he couldn’t get enough, letting you taste all the sin from just before.
“Three weeks away, huh?” That accusatory little inflection in his words isn’t lost on you, only growing stronger and stronger as his staccato grows sloppier. “Have your- hah- heat in three weeks and fuck- I could just- smell it on you-”
It’s incredible. Sliding your frenzied bodies across on another, stinging with skin-on-skin and how your gooey walls constricted around him.
“Showing off in that scent and that skirt-” His eyes are almost bulging out of his head now, hips stuttering like just the very thought of that pile of fabric at the corner of the room drove him mad. “-fuck that skirt- always fuckin’ hated it. Hated how Nanami loves hngh- it. Made me lose fucking control a-and you know what?”
One of his hands curls around your throat now, the other taking hold of your left - kissing your ring finger pointedly. “I’ll do it all over again if it means I’d get to have ya like this, my mate.”
And just then he’s coating your melty insides in a creamy sheen, that overworked divot right at the end of his dick was firmly pressed up against your g-spot. Plugging you with his knot, and you swear you could see a little inflation forming where he was filling you to your limits.
Cumming and cumming so hard it’s like he couldn’t stop - didn’t want to stop until his body practically forced him.
Gojo’s biting down hard exactly over those deep indents on your scent glands when his gushing spurts of seed turn into almost-painful blanks.
Over and over, he’s cumming nothing.
“L-love you, Toru-” you’re babbling out, reeling him in to peck the corners of his smirking mouth.
Utterly fucked out of your mind enough that you don’t even register the loud boom! from somewhere in the distant grounds of Jujutsu Tech. Barely even care that the overpriced meeting table is now sagging on one side, just about in splinters.
“Aww, m-my c-cockdrunk baby–” he titters shakily into your glossed-pout. “Love you, too, always have always- will-” Patting the bulge on your stomach, before kissing you gently, “Ever since I th-threw ya into heat the ngh- first time ya met me.”
Oh.
And later, you’ll learn that that almost-deafening boom was the generator for Jujutsu Tech, mysteriously bursting after a sudden spike in atomic pressure in the surrounding area. You’ll find out that every piece of furniture in the surrounding buildings had moved about six inches in your direction, and that the now-ruined table was an irreplaceable heirloom.
But for now, all you register is soft.
Warm.
With a gasp you realize you’re in a bedroom - Gojo’s bedroom.
“Did- did you teleport-”
“Mhm-” he pants, and in the dim lighting you could spot his leering grin. Satisfied. Pussydrunken. And you could feel his knot swell up hotly, halfway through to its previous size.
You sputter, trying so desperately to find the words. Difficult, when Gojo still had you wrapped around his thick cock, all the way up to his fat, drenched base. Swiveling his cock in slow, sultry grinds for how much he couldn’t ram exactly how he wanted to right now. “Wh-why didn’t you do this before–?”
“Because-” he licks over his mating mark on you. “-wanted to show off what animals we were.” His grin grows wider, as does his tired cock. And that dangling blindfold around his neck ends up around your wrists, tying you up pliantly for him. “What animals we will be.”
---
Right now, all Nanami can think about is you you you- Yet,he doesn’t expect to see you for about the next week. Or, at least, that’s the hopeful side of him - knowing Gojo, and the state he’d left the meeting room in, he won’t see you again for a month.
Possibly not walking.
Perhaps, that’s for the best. Looking down at his swollen, throbbing cock - one fist wrapped around its thick base, the other around his shaky phone, he clicks on that familiar app.
Shit, his rut is near. Now, actually.
Nanami sighs, it’s hard pretending not to be animals.
A/N. Was soooo giggling writing about how the table was some heirloom.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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toji zenin, who has only stayed with the zenin clan because he just can’t give up the sweet pussy of his personal servant—you.
because you don’t adhere to the strict rules given to the servants. and you can’t bring yourself to care about them either.
because why should you wake toji up by parting his window shutters and letting the sun stir him awake, when you could rouse him from sleep with your lips wrapped around his cock instead? you’re sure he prefers waking to the warmth of your throat, delicate eyes looking up at him through your lashes as you take his length to the base.
his hand, even in his half-asleep state, reaching down to push you even further on his cock until he can feel the back of your throat and your nose is tickled by his dark pubes. because there’s no better alarm sound than that of you gagging on his cock as you swallow the load he gifts you.
and how could he bring himself to leave when he has you at his beck and call at all times? all he has to do is shoot you a look from across the room and you’re ducking out to meet him in a quiet corridor or empty room so he can hike up your robes and drop to his knees to return the mornings favour. sure, he’s a selfish man, but he’s greedy and indulgent when it comes to tasting you.
you always try to be quiet when cumming on his tongue but you never succeed, and toji loves it. he loves knowing the assholes in his clan hear it every time he sinks into you, because you’re moaning his name so pretty that any lesser man would cum as soon as you tighten around his pulsing cock. he loves knowing every time you serve him in their presence they’re only imagining the way you serve him with your cunt behind closed doors.
god, he doesn’t even care to close the door half the time. too many times has a clan elder walked in to see you, pressed up against the wall as toji fucks you from behind with fast strokes and drawling groans. and he never stops, never slows down or even bothers to care about an unwelcome audience—because you never care. you serve him, not them, and if worrying about prying eyes takes from your duties—you’d rather take his affections in stride.
because you are his in every aspect of the word. you serve him hand and foot, you take his cock into your mouth each morning, you let him fuck you full of his cum each evening, you turn his scowl into a gentle smile with each kiss you lay upon his lips. your heart is his, and his yours.
and one morning before the sun has risen to find toji in the servants chambers, his lips patched around your clit and two fingers already pumping into you. he plays the servant, and wakes you for once. you cum not once, but twice around his fingers, back arching as pleasure washes you clean. and as he pulls away with a glistening lower half of his face and presses the most gentle kiss to your inner thigh, he whispers something that changes the course of your life entirely.
“let’s get the fuck outta here, whaddya’ think, dollface?”
#toji smut#toji x reader#toji zenin smut#toji fushiguro smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#toji zenin x reader#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji zenin
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— tooth and nail
alpha!logan x mutant!f!reader
rated e - 4k
tags: dub-con (logan goes into a rut), a/b/o-lite elements (logan-only - ruts/knots/mates), breeding kink, mutual pining, two jealous dummies, size kink, fighting as foreplay, return of The Claws (claw-play?), outercourse, biting, marking, come play, rough PiV sex
a/n: pure pwp. reader has druidic-based mutant powers (wild shape, strong connection to nature/animals, influence over vines/foliage) and is from Earth-10005.
Logan knows this feeling. He thought he’d left this part of himself behind. Left on his Earth, carved out and buried with the rest.
Should have told you no. Should have locked himself away like he always did. Instead, he’s stuck, unable to keep his mind from wandering while his sparring partner - sweat-dewed and squirming - is pinned beneath him.
(Or - Logan’s rut begins at a most inopportune time)
Something wasn’t right.
It’s been settling under his skin for days now. Tiny hooked claws, digging into flesh. A syrupy urge low in his guts, his mind not quite his own.
He thought he’d left this part of himself behind. Left on his Earth, carved out and buried with the rest.
The world he lives in now is different. There’s humans, mutants, aliens. But none like him, answering to something innate that defined him in a way that didn’t matter anymore.
It’s been a while. Almost forgot how it felt, after years of tamping down this part of him. Should have recognized sooner what it was. This rippling, simmering irritation just beneath his skin, so much stronger than usual.
Should have locked himself away, when he realized his rut was returning.
In his years in his own Earth, the urge had lessened. Dulled by alcohol and grief. Managed by himself, in the few months this part of his nature did visit him.
But he hadn’t been able to tell you no. Hadn’t been able to resist, not when you smiled so prettily at him, practically begging him.
And the thought of you leaving him behind at the X-Mansion, while you went off without him - to spar with Hank, instead - made him want to rip McCoy’s arms off.
Desire swirls around him now, as he trades blows with you. Your arms snaking around his shoulders as you shoulder a well-placed hit, bringing you both down the floor.
Logan feels like a pup again, watching your breathless laugh. The clench of your thighs around his waist. The heady throb low in his guts, the pressure of his cock as it strains against his suit.
His hips lift, separating him from you. Trying to form an excuse, while his brain is rocketing into overdrive.
Fighting back the urge to close that gap again. To peel down those tight leggings that drive him mad, bury his mouth against your pussy and make you scream. Fuck you full of him, until he’s dripping out of you for days.
The though makes him growl, as he tries to concentrate.
Tough to fake an illness, or injury. You’d see right through him.
Or even worse, worry.
So all he had to do was finish out this session.
Shouldn’t be too hard.
If you can just avoid touching him… he might just make it through.
You know you shouldn’t let yourself get distracted like this while sparring with Logan, but you can’t seem to help it.
Not when you’ve been nursing this thing inside you for months now. Something planted from another earth, settling low in your chest. Infesting like the vines that sprout from you, taking over until you’re fully ensnared.
You’ve tried to ignore it. Didn’t want to ruin a good thing between you.
Out of everyone in the X-Mansion, you got along with Logan the best. Used to a solitary lifestyle after being raised among the druids, before you knew the truth to what you were, the mutant lineage that flowed through you.
It had paired well with his temperament. His anger and grouchy quips slipped from you like raindrops on a leaf. Something about spending time with you softening him at the edges - just a little bit.
He was still the hard man he used to be. Grizzled, with that scowl of his and the flecks of grey at his temples.
And despite your efforts - forgetting and moving on hadn’t been successful. Not at all.
Because it’s impossible to ignore when he’s close, like this. Pressing your back to the mat, your wrist slammed against the padded floor. A knife skittering away, because even after all this time - even with his insisting - you were still reluctant to use it.
It sends your pulse racing. He’s so fucking strong - and you think that maybe, even if you had been an equal pair, that you’d still throw these matches.
Let him win, if it gets him like this. Sweaty and pressed up against you as you struggle beneath him. A thigh jammed between yours to prevent you from slamming your heel into his calf.
You’ll think about this later.
You always do after your sparring sessions. You hand slipping between your thighs in the shower after. Bitten-back moans as you play out more in your mind - the plunge of your fingers inside your aching cunt until you’re shuddering with the pulsing pleasure, slumping back against the cold tile.
The fantasies always comes back to him.
You think that maybe Logan wants it too. Have felt his gaze on you when he thinks no one is looking, but your senses have always been keen. Animal attraction, perhaps. Pheromones. Something about his smell, his touch, beckons you - though you don’t understand what it means.
And it’s only now that you realize he’s gone still above you. Eyes blown wide, a sharp breath of air inhaled through clenched teeth. A low growl, caught in his throat.
Holding himself back. You can see it - the way his muscles string tight. How his eyes dip, flicking over your face. Down to the part of your lips. The sweat that dews your chest.
Close enough that you can inhale him - the smell of leather and cigar smoke blending with more - something inside you giving them a name.
Want. Need.
It gives you courage.
You bridge the gap, for a just a moment. A shallow lift of your hips. Encouraging, the movement pushing your tits against his heaving chest.
“Bad fucking idea, sweetheart.” He growls.
It’s rough, low. Ground-out as if to himself, a wounded sound slipping from his throat.
His response has a mark forming between your eyebrows. A soft murmuring of his name.
Logan’s face dips, eyes closing as he inhales. Then, without warning, his knuckles cradle against your throat.
Wrist flexing as two of his claws spear forward on either side of your neck. Punching through the training mats and sinking deep into the concrete beneath.
Pinning you completely under him, your hips dropping as your free hand wraps around his forearm. A tug of fear ripples through you, but he doesn’t budge.
“Logan,” You repeat, gasping, “What are you doing? What’s wrong?
This isn’t like the times you’ve sparred before. He’s never drawn his claws. You don’t heal like he does - you both know it. Never using more than a loose fist, an open palm in your sessions.
He’s breathing heavy. Holding himself over you, his other hand still wrapped firmly around your wrist.
“I’m gonna let you go.” It comes out ragged, through clenched teeth.
“And then I need you to leave, and lock me in after.” Only now does he look at you - his dark eyes burning, “You understand?”
His voice is so rough that it makes your skin prickle. Heat licking down your spine, stoking the embers that have settled low in your belly.
“I don’t.” It comes out hushed.
How can you? It’s like a flip has been switched, in those few moments. Did you truly misread everything?
His eyes haven’t left your face. There a peek of his tongue against his lips, the words coming slowly, “Don’t wanna do something you’re gonna regret.”
And for a moment, time stands still. An ache in your chest that’s so different than the one between your thighs. Finger unfurling, reaching.
Slipping up his arm, touching his cheek. He flinches, eyes fluttering shut as he holds his breath.
“What could I regret with you?”
If it were anyone else, the question would be stupid. You should be running from the man that has you pinned to the ground, claws drawn. Another twitch and you could be dead - the middle unsheathing to pierce clean through your soft throat.
“Whatever it is, let me help you.” Your voice is gentle - coaxing - and for a second, he leans into the touch. Palm pressing against heated skin, and you gasp, “You’re burning up, Logan.”
“You can’t help me with this.” He rasps with his eyes closed, voice strained.
Your head shakes, “Let me try.”
A long pause lingers. The room filled with the uneven intake of breath. Logan’s words coming slowly, as his eyes open - dropping down to your throat. And then away, like he can’t bear to even look at you, “Does the word rut mean anything to you?”
It feels like something stirs again inside you. The flutter of wings, not unlike the feeling when you tap into your power. Like threads slipping your fingertips, connecting you down to the earth below.
“Animals have ruts. Deer, elk, creatures like that.” A beat, as you begin to understand. Heat flaring in your cheeks at the implication, “But, not… not humans.”
He grunts, shifting.
It takes everything not to let your chin tip down, to look.
“They do where I come from.”
Pieces start to fall in place. His increased irritability around you lately. Territorial. Aggressive.
Blending in to what you know, in your connection to nature. Those animalistic instincts that linger in your blood long after you’ve shed your beast form.
Desire. Mating. An urge to breed.
Oh, fuck.
You squirm and he makes a warning sound without thinking - a rough rumble from his chest. His weight shifting on top of you, still hovering.
“How do you handle it?”
His eyes flicker up to yours, then away again. Jaw working, a breath before he answers, “Take care of it myself. Or, I’d find someone to work through it with me.”
Even as you’re scrambling to make sense of it, you understand his insinuation. It stuns you into silence. You cannot allow that. The thought sends your heart crashing into your guts.
Your chin tips up, defiantly.
“Let me help you.”
Those dark eyes narrow as they snap to your face. Your words softening, as your thumb sweeps across his skin, the scruff of his cheek.
“I want to help you.”
Logan laughs, the sound ragged. Showing the points of his canines with the shake of his head.
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” His voice is smoky-low. Rough as it scrapes across your skin, leaving goosebumps, “You couldn’t take me.”
Your heart feels like it’s pounding in your throat. Heat licking down your spine, and surely he can feel it - the flutter beneath the press of his knuckles.
“I can.” It comes out breathy. Insisting.
His tongue brushes over his lips as they part. A tilt of his head as he lowers himself. His knee pressing against the meat of your thigh, nudging. Opening your legs up further. Spreading them wider.
“I will ruin you.”
It’s growled in your ear. Each word coming slowly, as he lets the hard curve of his cock grind against your core. His meaning unmistakable, his voice pitching down with a ragged groan.
“I want you to ruin you. You understand?”
And, you do. It floods through you, sending your nerve endings alight. Imagining how he would handle you, take you. The space between your thighs throbs.
His admission - the rasp of his words and the heavy nudge of him against you makes you do something very selfish.
And very stupid.
You’re just able to reach your thigh holster now, with this new angle. The quick fumble of your fingers to loosen the small dagger.
The metal side of his claw pressing into your skin as your head turns. Before he can move, a flick of your wrist sends it through the air.
Your aim is slightly off, but it does the job. Seating itself in the control box by the door, a sizzle as the wires are cut.
A metallic snick as the doors lock. The lights click off, plunging the room into darkness. The ground bathed only with the stripes of sun that stretch across the floor from the row of window along the wall.
Logan lets go of your wrist, but leaves you pinned. His fist curling in the strap of your tank, knuckles pressing against your throat as he yanks you forward.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Logan snarls, “You want me to use you?”
His words make you whimper. A soft little whine that has his hips dropping further. An unconscious rut against your core, leg muscles flexing as you clench around nothing.
You meet his second thrust, your body curving against his. Head tipping back as the seam of your leggings nudge against your clit.
“Fuck.” It almost sounds awed now, his words soft and slow, “You do, don’t you?”
Letting his full weight drop, as your hands grip onto his shoulders for purchase. You had thought you were pinned before, but he had still been using his knees, his elbows. Hovering, in an attempt to keep control.
Now, you can feel all of him, as his body maps against yours. Pulling a rough groan as his hips flex, grinding himself slowly against your core.
“Logan, please.”
He growls. Fingers unfurling from your shirt. Ghosting down your side to fit against the curve of your hip. Biting into flesh with a bruising force, as his face buried in the crook of your neck. A hot exhale against your skin, as he pants - finding a rocking rhythm, as his body curls around yours.
You can feel the way his muscles tense with each needy snap of his hips. The way each breath pitches into a near-silent whine, as he seeks friction.
It’s not enough, as much as he wishes it was.
“I need-” Logan rasps, “Tell me to stop and I will.”
The hand on your hip snakes between you. Roughly tugging on the belt of his suit, until the clasp opens. All while murmuring assurances, half to himself.
“I’ll let you go. Work through it myself-”
That need he speaks of rolls off him in waves. Facial hair scraping against your cheek. The brush of his lips against your throat, just above the cool press of his claws.
“Don’t stop.” It’s easy to answer. Easy to lean into what he offers you, all those sweet promises wrapped in steel.
The groan he makes is filthy, “Give me your hand.”
Your fingers unlatch from the vice-like hold on his suit. A broad hand wrapping around your wrist, as he tugs you where he needs you. The tips brushing heated skin, making you gasp.
“Make a fist,” He rasps, “Fuck, that’s it.”
Lining himself up, pushing his bared cock into the circled grip of your fingers. Using you like a cheap imitation of what he craves, as his desire leaks from him. Slicking up your fingers, with each roll of his hips.
He’s heavy in your hand. You can feel how your fingers stretch - flexing, opening, with each forward thrust. Barely able to circle around, fingers splitting when you reach his base.
You can’t help but move with him. Hips rocking up, to match his messy rhythm. The knuckle of your thumb pressing against your seam, nudging at where you ache for him.
“I can smell you, sweetheart,” Logan moans, his nose dragging along the curve of your jaw. Lips parting so he can test his teeth against a spot under your ear, the pressure making you shiver, “Your pussy’s leaking, thinking about me.”
Your eyes flutter shut, as you whine. Squeezing his cock a little more tightly, wishing it was filling you instead just your fingers.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” He husks, “You think you can take it?”
You want anything he’ll give you. And anything is better than the way he’s teasing you. Palm slick with his desire, your own soaking through the soft fabric of your leggings.
“I want it. Want your cock,” You breathe, “Want to fuck me, please-”
There’s a final jerk of his hips against you, his voice gruff as his thighs shift.
“Stay still then, sweetheart.”
There’s the sharp rasp of adamantium against stone as they withdraw from the floor. His knuckles easing carefully from your throat as he leans back. Eyes dropping down, considering.
Barely a heartbeat before there’s the kiss of metal against skin, as the edge of a claw hooks under your shirt. Your breath held as it slips up, between your breasts.
A tug, and the fabric is shredding. Fibers splitting until the drag of the sharp tips, from belly to throat. Baring you, the air in the open room chilling your heated skin as you gasp.
Nipples already pebbled as his mouth descends. A needy moan loosening when he kisses at the curve of your tits, his tongue flattening across a tight peak.
Your arms wrap around him, their duty forgotten. Distracting you as his claws shift down. Your breath catches, but then there’s the sound of them sheathing - slipping back under his skin.
His hands finding the slice he made in the waistband, making short work of the rest himself. Ripping your leggings open - dragging your thighs over his as he leans back on his knees.
And looking down, it’s only now that you can fully see him. The familiar, worn yellow suit that shows off how broad he is. Zipper yanked down at the crotch, his cock pulled through with his impatience.
Eyes widening, when you realize there’s more to him than you though. Hanging heavy between his thighs, pretty and flushed. A thickened bulge sitting where your fingers had split - what you had mistaken for his base.
“Need to be inside you, sweetheart,” Logan’s hand already wrapping around his shaft, dragging the tip across your cunt, “Don’t make me waste a drop, alright?”
Fingers tugging the gusset of your panties to the side. Letting the tip slap against your clit. It glides against you, slipping against your combined arousal. Seeing how you flutter as you clench, your own need spiking.
“Logan,” You beg, “Stop teasing, please-”
He makes a rough sound. Almost a laugh, if it didn’t sound so pained.
“Just listen to you. Begging like you’re in heat,” He grunts, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need.”
The tip dips down, nudging at your entrance. Lining himself up, before his hips drive him forward. The sudden pressure chokes you - a bitten-back cry as your muscles string tight, thighs clamping down around his waist.
“Fuck, I’ve dreamed about this.” He growls. Spearing into you an inch at time with a long, fluid motion. Fingers biting into your thigh, holding you open as your own scrabble against the mat - searching for something to hold onto.
“Tugging down those leggings. Fucking you into the floor.”
You can barely contain the whine. Brow furrowed, as he splits you open. Your pussy making room for him until the swollen ring at his base cradles your entrance.
Only able to inhale a short breath before he’s moving. Hands catching your legs, slipping to the joints of your knees where they press into his ribs.
Pushing your thighs back towards your chest, opening you up further, as his cock drags along your walls. He feels deeper, bigger - groaning at the way you clench so tightly around him.
Better than any of those daydreams, as he leans into you. Chasing that animalistic urge inside to bury himself fully in you, ensuring that you’ll take every drop.
Your fingers bite into his wrists. The breath pushed from you with each thrust, feeling like he’s deep in your belly, as that swell stretches at your opening.
“Thought about it too,” You admit with a gasp, as that heat inside you burns, “Wanted you, like this.”
“Yeah? I bet you did.” He grunts, as his thighs snap against your ass. Leaning over you now, eyes fixed on yours. Close enough that you can see the glaze to them, lost in his need for release.
Before his eyes drag down. Seeing where you’re stretched around him. Another shallow nudge, urging himself deeper. His thumb pressing at your entrance, before slipping back to hook around the swell.
“Good girl like you’d take my knot too, wouldn’t you?”
His knot. Your head shakes. He barely fits at is. You can feel every ridge as he ruts into you, every thick vein, “I don’t think- Logan, that won’t fit-”
The thumb shifts up. Pleasure burning through as he rolls the pad across you clit. His brow pulled in concentration, but there’s a flesh of white teeth.
“Sure it will, baby.” It’s slick, how he touches you. His cock grinding again and again against a spot that steals your breath, “You were made to take it. We’ll make it fit.”
It makes you moan. Your fingers sliding into his hair tugging at him. He comes willingly, a soft sound as his mouth dips to press against yours. Turning hungry as your lips part. Rubbing at you as his tongue strokes against yours, deepening the kiss.
The pleasure licks in your veins, a molten feeling building in your core.
A rough murmur against your lips, “Tell me you want it. I’ll make you feel good, sweetheart.”
You parrot it back to him without thinking, hips chasing the press of his thumb.
“I want it,” You keen, “Your k-knot.”
Willing to do just about anything he asks if he keeps touching you like this. If he keeps rutting against the spot that makes your arousal leak around his cock, each drive of his hips loud and messy in the quiet room.
He groans, the hand at your thigh pinching, sure to leave bruises tomorrow. The fingers at your clit slipping up to splay across your abdomen, his palm hot again your skin.
“Yeah?” Logan husks - pressing down, almost as if he can feel himself buried inside you, “Fuck, you’d look so good filled with my pups.”
His rhythm going sloppy, as a hand slips up to palm at your breasts, “These pretty tits nice and round. Wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you, baby.”
Some of his words are new to you, but your body still reacts to his tone. The need, the longing. An intrinsic understanding of what he wants, even if it’s impossible with your implant. It still doesn’t stop your hand from slipping down to replace his.
Of pretending, with him.
The circles practiced, leaving him to concentrate on his own end. Soft panting cries pulling from you as the pounding of his hips drags you closer.
He’s close, as well. Those sharp thrusts growing shallow, messy. Letting go of your thighs, letting them wrap around his waist as he drives you into the padded mats. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, lips pressing against your jaw. Tongue dipping out to drag against a spot on your neck that makes you go slack in his arms.
“Should mate you,” He rasps. Teeth pinching down, where his tongue just was, “Bite you right here. Make you mine.”
The words tip you over the edge. A ragged gasp as your pussy clamps down around him, blood thundering in your ears. Nails catching on the panels of his suit as you cling to him, moans ripped from your throat as you pulse around him in time with your thudding heartbeat.
There’s no sharp bite of teeth. Just a muffled groan against your skin as he grasps at your hips. The sharp feeling of pressure increasing, as something thick works its way inside you. You keen as it stretches you, swelling so he can’t withdraw.
Twin ragged moans, as you’re joined together.
He comes with you squirming on his knot, his lips pressed against your throat. Sweet nothings murmured - “squeezing me so fucking tight, baby”, “gonna need you to take every drop, atta girl” - his cock throbbing as he spills inside you, pumping you full.
Still grinding into you. It draws your own orgasm out, with the way he’s rubbing against your walls, nothing left untouched. Overstimulation flickering at the corner of your mind, but you’re locked in place as he breeds you.
Understanding what he meant by using you - you feel it now. Fucked out and boneless and it sends another gush of sticky need between your thighs.
The sharp, panting breath starts to ebb. The ghost of his teeth becomes the nuzzle of his face, that strung-tight pull of his muscles turning liquid as he relaxes into your embrace.
“Why were you so worried?”
It comes out hushed, in the now-silent room. You’re sore - will be, tomorrow. Pleasure-drunk certainly, but not quite as ruined as he promised.
Almost to your disappointment.
“That wasn’t too much.”
Logan laughs, the sound dripping with condescension. A flex of his hips, still knotted inside you. Cum leaking from your swollen pussy, smearing against your inner thighs.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He coos, “Ruts can last for days.”
His fingers drop, dragging through his spend. Finding your clit again, rubbing slick circles against the tight little bud.
Intent on doing this one himself.
“We’re only just getting started.”
[moodboard] // I had two ideas for his claws after the movie - this was the second one! This is my first time writing something like this, so keeping it a little light with the dynamics 💖 thanks for reading!
and speaking of - I have to link this amazing alpha!logan thot by the incredible @avocado-writing! please check it out! 💕
#do NOT look at me#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett x you#wolverine smut#james logan howlett x reader#xmen x reader#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x fem!reader
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