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#a step down a path i don't like
dandelionlinolinaline · 5 months
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ok rant time, stick with me.
the reason i don’t like damian wayne is not that i don't enjoy him as a character, it is that he feels like the final nail in the coffin that is 'robin'. now what do i mean by this? dick grayson as robin is obviously fantastical. he is an interesting foil to bruce/batman, he i tragic and complex, but his backstory is very much not real. he feels like a fictional character, so it isn’t a stretch to suspend disbelief and 'buy' him being robin, so to say. the family dynamic he has with bruce is NOT like father and son (argue with the wall on this one), it's paternal, but regardless of age difference in different interpretations, it is very much an unconventional family dynamic.
now, i've never really had a major issue with jason todd as robin (maybe because he has been red hood for basically my entire lifetime), but he was the first step in a direction of a more traditional family; son, father, grandson (and older brother), which i strongly dislike. now say what you will about jason todd, but he was arguably the most 'real' of the robins (in terms of backstory). he has a much more plausible family background (not counting sheila working with the joker) and feels less like the fantasy of dick grayson and more like wish fulfilment of a poor kid (ultimately this is what i think led to his downfall at dc - they couldn’t sell the 'fantasy' of jason todd in the way they could the other robins).
tim drake is where i kinda take issue. he is the 'normal' robin, but is very clearly an 'upgrade' from jason todd. he fits into the socialite life, bruce is significantly older than him (enough to be his actual father), and dick also takes a much more active role as a 'big brother' than he did with jason. tim drake, as neither dick or jason did, seems like the successor to bruce wayne, as well as batman. he is a genius, brilliant detective, rich and well-versed in the upper echelons of society. he is a HUGE leap in the direction of this sort of 'born for the role' idea i really despise for robin.
(i will take the liberty of following dc's example and overlook stephanie brown's robin)
lastly damian. not only is he batman's biological son, he is a prodigy who has trained since birth to be the next batman and is the heir to the league of assassins (i also hate what his creation meant for talia as a character, but i'll let that rest). he is now amalgamation of this slow trajectory towards robin as an heir who is divinely 'destined' to become batman (evidenced by the fact that damian is the only robin to consistently have the surname wayne).
don’t get me wrong, i greatly enjoy damian wayne and think he has an interesting dynamic with a number of characters and has some really lovely character devlopmemt and arcs, but i hate hate hate how robin went from 'orphans make do' to 'the heir apparent to not only batman but bruce wayne' and i. idk, i just wish dc had kept more of the charm and choice that the relationship between bruce and dick.
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piecanl · 9 months
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Do you think Tubbo would recognize the path Bad is going down, because it's one he's already walked down on?
This self-destructive behavior coming from a broken heart?
He hasn't seen Bad at his best, before the eggs got kidnapped. He's seen him a victim to grief more than a father. It's why the blue staining Bad's being isn't out of the ordinary.
But suddenly he starts carrying flowers to remind him of the love he lost, suddenly the void calls out his name even louder and suddenly Tubbo sees himself in the older demon.
And it's scary, because suddenly he sees what he has become, how it affects others.
And for the first time of many, he sees Bad walk down a road he's paved. For the first time of many, Bad is the one repeating Tubbo's mistakes.
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usercelestial · 2 months
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the whole "your ship has to Endgame™️" thing has rotted people's brain and i think contributes to how genuinely miserable a lot of fans make themselves. i used to be in a lot of buddie-centric spaces and let me tell you, i was fucking miserable and not enjoying myself. not because of the people or the ship itself, but because of the insistence that it WILL be canon every season. moving the goalpost and tricking yourself into thinking that this will happen 100%, no questions, and if you don't think so too, you must hate this ship, is uh. pretty detrimental to most people's enjoyment of a ship and the show overall. it wasn't until i removed myself from those spaces and just took a step back that i was able to let myself enjoy the show that i was watching AND my little interpretations and headcanons. i still love buddie and would be stoked to see it happen but im also not gonna die on that hill. trying to convince yourself that what you interpreted is 1) the same thing everyone else interpreted and 2) the Correct Interpretation the show intended for you to make will only ever suck the joy out of fandom because either you won't be able to convince yourself and what the show shows you will clash violently against what you want to happen or you will be able to convince yourself and you'll make villains out of your fellow shippers for not also thinking the same exact way as you and you'll be disappointed when your theories don't happen. like fandom is supposed a fun little hobby and you're making it feel like a job for no reason.
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rescuefield-a · 1 year
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one of these days we're going to talk about how in different ways the mains are not being seen as people that much anymore
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buttons-beads-lace · 2 years
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Nothing drives me more insane than people who want to tell you that you did something wrong but don't want you to fix the problem or apologize for it.
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headslikekites · 23 days
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birthday in 2 weeks
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eunuchve · 7 months
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tags: mdni, smut, dragon!morax, MONSTERFUCKING, rut/mating cycles, predator/prey, double dragon cocks, double penetration, CERVIX FUCKING, size kink, mentioning pregnancy, mating, bro has a worship kink, breeding kink hints (he's in a rut dont hold it against him) a.n: (what have i done) this is the first porn with plot I've written and I gotta say; it is damn long.... happy valentines my dears, enjoy! pairings: zhongli x afab!reader
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Lord Morax is a god; but he is more than that, he is an adeptus. illuminated beast. this fact needs no introduction, everyone knows. 
so when he took leave to a remote part of liyue somewhere, unknown to even his retainers, no one dared to bat an eye. the rain has fallen heavy, the season has become damp, and the scheduled time is near; Rex Lapis will have his rut.
it didn't take long for people to figure out the reasons for his absence; not when the lord became increasingly unfocused during stately meetings a week prior or when his eyes would turn to slits with a whiff of a woman's perfume for a month’s time.
You, the lone herb picker of a local pharmacy, didn't know any better when you stumbled upon a large hollowed-out cave that wasn't supposed to be there. you are familiar with the terrains, hell, you know it like the back of your hand -- so imagine your surprise when you find a nesting dragon inside, heaving, grunting alone; its horns glowing with a bright amber before its head snapped to your directly, eyes instantly turning to slits.
at first, you stumble backwards, watching as the figure slowly but surely towers over your frame; your neck cranes to meet its molten bronze eyes. it didn't take you long to realise whose privacy you had so ungraciously barged into; your mouth dries and you dropped your basket full of violetgrass, your heart beating out of your chest before your feet finally got some sense and took running to the woods. 
'fuck fuck fuck.'
you are going to die- you are so sure you are going to die. when your feet stumble and trip over branches and air, when you can hear him gliding through the sky; undoubtedly searching for you. The sounds of his scaled body burst through the leaves of the ginkgo trees, or of his deep, rough growls that echo through the forest. With every heavy step you take, you can feel him getting closer and closer. The thrill and fear mix inside of you, your body stirs with blood coursing through you. Weirdly amid the fear you feel-- somehow excitement came into the mix; something about your life being in the mercy of a chase?
Why is he there again? Rut? So will he fuck you or will he kill you? You certainly prefer one to the other. 
Your legs continue to run, even as you trip and fall, or when you stumble upon a rock or two; searching for an exit to a nearby village or open path; but no matter how far you run you can't seem to find the correct way. Your eyes scanned all directions before your body was suddenly pinned down under a sudden force and unmoving weight.
The paws of a creature so large that it covers your entire back, its talons digging into your back. The smell of freshly dug earth and exotic spices violates your nostrils and your heart can't help but thump against your chest just a little faster. You turned your neck, finding the dragon’s face mere inches from yours; his hot breath grazing the exposed skin of your neck. 
“Please don’t kill me.” god your voice sounds so desperate; with a hint of a broken whimper- even you are embarrassed by that fact. but your god didn't seem disturbed, instead he let out a low grunt, before hissing back a reply.
"don't beg."
"...huh?"
"don't." he spat the word, seeming holding something back. "beg."
"b-but--"
he didn't let you finish, picking you up by the scruff of your neck before throwing you to his back. he flew you back somewhere, you didn't care to notice since most of the flight back you are scrambling for something to hold on to; whether it is the golden spines or his actual body.
by the time you both arrive at the entrance of the familiar cave, he has waited for you to get off his back. you inclined, of course, shakily getting a feel of the ground below, catching your breath whilst adrenaline courses through you. once you get a feel yourself, your eyes travel to him, catching his large form walking slowly to the back of the cave.
"you won't kill me?" you find yourself asking; his head then slowly turns to you before, a visible look of confusion etched on it.
"Why would I?" his deep rough voice replies. he is definitely holding something back, the way his lips parted a bit to let steam out of his mouth, the sharp teeth that are visible from them make you gulp the pooling saliva in your mouth.
"Because... cave..."
weak reasoning, you'd have to admit, but if he won't kill you then you'd have to be sure of the other possibility. "then would you fuck me?"
the look on his face deepened before his head hung low, and a soft whisper came to you for a reply. "what makes you think of that?"
"It's your- Rex Lapis it's your time of..."
embarrassed, incredibly embarrassed; that's the feeling you felt, with the heat of blood rushing to your cheek and thumping heart against your chest only enforcing the fact.
"it is time for my rut, yes," he confirmed, his gaze thrown to the floor, avoiding your figure, "but I am not one with lost senses; sleep, it is night, it will be safer to leave in the morning."
you nod weakly, shuffling your way to the walls and plopping down on the dirt before curling up. the heat in your cheeks refuses to prevail as you watch him walk back, his long tail moves with each step he takes, the tuff at the end resembling that of golden clouds.
"My lord why are you moving so far away?" you asked, instantly biting your lip the moment that question escaped your mind, realising how desperate you sounded with that pretence.
"your arousal," he states matter of factly. "you. I can smell it."
you look at him wide-eyed, your face now comparable in its heat to the sun, your lips agape.
"it's safer for you this way," he continues.
"do you not want to?" archons you are greedy aren't you. "your rut- I can.. help..."
"I doubt it." his voice is precise, he says it like it's a fact, not even letting you have a space to express your desire. "they are the size of your thigh and their length..."
"I can try." bold- now you are being too bold. the size of your thigh he said? now you can feel your ears getting heated up from the shame. your thigh now pressed together as you imagine him inside of you; a second pass and your arms no longer placed nicely on your lap, instead instinctively protecting your chest.
his gaze looms over you, his snout now only a hairsbreadth away from your neck; a long deep breath he takes is audible before he groans out a reply.
"Do not test me human," something inside of him is threatening undone, you know it, "I will breed you till your womb is full and your consciousness lost-- if that is not what you desire then stay quiet and sleep; I shall bring you the village in the morning but until then speak not of this."
you gulp, now your lips parted before you crane your neck and place a shaky kiss on his scaled cheek, the heat of his body contrasting the cold of your flesh. "... that is what I desire--"
with that your clothes are torn apart; the valuable silk you spend months of your wage on is gone and your naked skin is exposed. the cold air hardened your nipples and he took notice, his head travelling down, his long forked tongue lapping sweetly onto them, earning your strangle out a moan.
"getting aroused from a chase," he breathes out, almost teasing you; hot breath contrasts that of the cooling saliva on your perked buds, sending vibrations down your spine. "thinking you can take a dragon's cocks, wanting to be the mother of my offsprings -- what bold actions you possessed."
you let out a whine, his tongue now travelling down, ever so subtly closing down to your cunt. you pressed your thighs together; embarrassed, already feeling your arousal seeping out of you before his claws forced them wide open, earning your moan.
"you are pooling my dear," he almost chuckled, his eyes narrowed as he licked his lips, his breath now grazing your quivering folds, unexpected whimper broken out of you.
"please?"
with that word you can feel the air snap hotter, his eyes now meeting yours; his form towering over you before he chuckle, training down kisses, his tongue now making sure you are covered in his scent.
"didn't I tell you not to beg?" his claws hold your thigh open and he took a lap of your cunt, almost smiling at your taste. "do you know why my dear?"
"n-no--"
your moans escape, feeling his tongue entering you, fucking you, stimulating your walls, not letting you escape. you arched your back, biting your lips as another whimper persisted. you feel his hand moving, now pressing his claws to your other hole, expecting you to open up; and you let him, your holes now stuffed full of him before you feel his tongue slip out of you, your whine tells him as much about what you want.
"Because if you beg..." he now moves his hands to your ankles, folding you in half and you watch helplessly, his two golden cocks decorated with geometric lines and veins on either side, one on top of the other- he does not lie, the size of those things are comparable to your thigh, its length will most likely penetrate your womb- "I will answer."
he chuckles subtly, aligning his cocks to both of your holes, its weight now pressing down on you, precum leaks out of them, lubricating you further.
"i am a god, my dear; I always answer."
with that he presses his cock head to your holes, hoping both of them will ease up. you moan his title out, causing him to snap his head to you, making him greedy.
Your little groan and hiss only help you muster up the strength to let loose, feeling your holes easing up before they let his cockheads in, making your chest heave.
he grunts against your neck; and you feel his teeth subtly tracing your shoulder, little nips that satiate his hunger, burying his head in its crook.
"Celestia." the way you feel around the tip of his cock is incomparable; the dragon finds himself clenching down his jaw, controlling his urges to slam you down to its hilt. "you are made for me my dear."
he grabs a hold of your hips, and you feel him sliding you down. you let out a low moan, your back still arched as you feel him inside of you more and more. the burn from the stretch doesn't scare you, even if you feel like you are being split in two- you only know the pleasure that waits for you not so out of reach.
not even halfway and you already feel him brushing against your cervix, your broken moan coupled with the way you rolled your hips almost makes him snap. his other cock too now deep inside of you- almost too deep; you feel the pressure against your throat, feeling his cocks twitch, almost making you jolt, your hand searching from his arm, nails now digging into his scales.
he looks at you, his parted lips letting out steam before his uneven breathing stops to let him speak. "I shall move now."
you look at him, biting your lips and nod firmly, affirming your readiness. you feel him trying to go out of you, your cunt and hole tightening around him, almost hungry before he slams into you, earning your cry of pleasure.
it persists; he goes out of you before he slips inside, messaging your walls before they tightened around him again, hungrily seeking him, your face now fucked out with pleasure, feeling him abuse your holes.
"I'm not even all the way in my dear." he almost smirks, you can see it. before you know it, you suddenly feel him picking you up, your walls being freed from his cocks, suddenly empty and you whine; letting him flip you to your stomach and holding your ass up in the air.
he marvels at the sight, seeing both of your holes gape yet clench down on nothing, it almost made him giddy.
"my beautiful follower," he mused, his claws now digging into your flesh before you feel his cocks lining up with your holes again; embarrassingly you can feel your cunt relaxing, ready to take him in once more. "will you be my mate now darling?"
"yes!" your desperation stays, you want him inside you so bad, "please Rex Lapis please!"
you didn't know what did, but you certainly awaken something in him. he brings you up in the air before slamming you down on his cocks, your walls now taking him fully, your stomach bulging out with his shape. your breath knocks out of you; you can feel him all the way in your womb, your hand can't help but trace the raised flesh, your spine almost shivering from the sensation.
"keep begging."
that sounds like an order; even your now fucked out brain knows that. so like the good follower you are you follow that order.
"Please make me your mate," you choke out, his slow rhythms that know your breath slowly but surely going faster, brushing up against all your pleasure spots, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. "please please please please I wanna- I want--"
he chuckles, the way you mewl your pleas, the way your warm flesh tightens around him; he can even feel your walls hungrily sucking him in so nicely. in his mind he is thanking Celestia; because fuck, you are a masterpiece.
"a human could die from this," he grunts out, going in and out of you with an inhuman pace, your cunt and hole loosening with his movements. "not you my dear; you are made for me."
you whine from his statement, the bludge he created only drives you to the edge, feeling something inside of you tightening, your nails digging into his scaled flesh, your face supported by his nose. "R-rex Lapis i- my-- i'm--"
"you want to cum my dear?" he almost teases you with the question, his cock brushing, bullying your g spot, making you dig your nails further, your head could only nod desperately at his question. "hold it, you could only cum when I do."
you whine out with his order, and he lets out a subtle groaning with it, chuckling at your reaction. his hand moves down, large talons brushing against your hard clit, teasing the nub; knowing exactly what it will make you do.
you wrapped your arm around his neck, his golden mane brushing against your flesh so softly; and your tug your face on them, muffling out your long moan and desperate cries.
"fuck- please lord mo- morax- r-rex lapis please- i want- i wanna- please please please-"
he kept his word, his face moving and kissing your neck, feeling you move your pelvis to fit him better, your inside hungrily brushing against his shaft. his brow knits, he feels himself almost coming undone.
"now."
with a final thrust, he fills both of your holes with white ropes of cum, you yourself arching your back, feeling your orgasm hits you harder than ever before. he hear your pants before he coils around you, closing gaps between the two of your while still being inside of you, wrapped up by your own warmth.
"i shall make the wedding preparation after the season's over," he breath out; your mind finally able to join the sentence together before you move your head, repeating the most important word again.
"wedding..."
"of course my dear," he kisses you, his snout pressed against your jaw before he tugs his head onto your collar bone. his hand travels to your stomach, rubbing the visible buldge that only grows with his cum, almost making look pregnant.
"the little ones will be coming soon."
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lovedaruma · 8 months
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their spot ♥︎
sukuna x princess! reader
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ー in which you and sukuna meet when he unintentionally saves you and you continue to meet him everyday in the same spot.
fem! reader, heian era, grumpy x sunshine, reader is innocent and playful, fluff + short smut
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"Your Highness! Please don't go too far!" you hear your personal maid shout from the distance as you continue to run, laughing and waving her goodbye.
Any other princess wouldn't be allowed to go into the wilderness on her own, but as for Y/N, her family could not care less if she went missing the next morning.
You have already wandered through so many paths, yet there was still more to explore. You take a new route and stumble on an open area, seeing a hill in the distance and couldn't help but gawk at the beautiful area.
You cheerfully run towards the hill, taking a few breaths once you reached the top. From this height, you could see the beautiful view of the ocean, together with the breathtaking sunset. "Oh my..."
The sun continued to set as you watched from underneath the tree, sitting in a comfortable position. The comforting sounds of nature soon make you drift of to sleep.
A growl from the distance awakes you from your slumber. You jolt awake to see that the moon was already up in the sky. "Gosh, how many hours have passed?"
The sound of your voice summons another growl and you start to get nervous. You turn around and look down at the hill and see a big wolf that was twice your size, bright red eyes trying to scare you. However, you were too distracted at the sight of the furry animal.
"Oh my, It's a wolfy! Come boy, come!" you wave your hand, beckoning the wolf to come closer. It hesitates but slowly starts to approach you. "Here boy... I'm nice, I swear!"
The wolf is now in front of you sniffing your leg, you bring your hand to his neck and started scratching. "Aren't you a cutie~ I'm gonna name you-"
Your words were cut off as you watch the wolf get sliced in half, the blood splattering on your kimono.
"Tch."
A voice was heard from behind the wolf, you see a handsome man with four arms and eyes, marks which seemed like tattoos all over his body.
"Hey~ Why did you kill the wolfy?" you whined.
"Shut up, Human. What are you doing here?"
". . ."
He furrows his brows and growls, "Answer."
"But you said shut up." you smile playfully, clearly teasing him.
"You... Do you know who you're talking to?" He slowly approaches you.
He was trying to intimidate you with this slow steps but was shocked to see you stand up and walk over to him instead.
"Well, No! You haven't introduced yourself yet. I'm Y/N. What's your name?" you reach out your hand as you introduce yourself.
". . ."
". . ."
You watch as his four eyes stare at you, trying to figure you out. You smile up at him and put your hand down.
"Well you don't have to tell me if you don't want to! I still would like to know why you killed the cute wolf though..." you pout as you look over at the furry body in pieces.
"You foolish woman. That wolf was going to make you its dinner." he glares at you, "And this area here is mine. I slaughter everything and everyone that trespasses."
He raises one of his hands to kill you in one swoop, but stops as you perk up and grab one of his hands in joy.
"Oh, so you saved me?! Thank you, kind stranger." you give his hand a small squeeze to show your appreciation.
He stares at both of your hands together for a few seconds before he smacks your hand away, "Tch, How dare you touch me."
You pout as you rub your wrist, "Oh, my apologies . It was bad manners of me to grab you without asking. I'll do that next time!"
"Hah, next time?" He chuckled pure evil, "There will be no next time. Don't think you're coming out of here alive, human."
"That can't be, I have to repay you! You saved me, after all... Even though I don't have much influence, I'm still a princess!"
"Princess? Stop lying woman. The only child I know of royalty here is a prince."
"Yeah~ That's my brother!" you smile, unbothered that people weren't aware that there was a princess in the first place. "And I have a name, you know."
A few seconds of silence pass, him just staring at you. He scoffs and turns to walk away. "Leave."
You were about to retort back but realized how far in the night it is so you stand up and call out to him, "Hey~ I'll be back here tomorrow okay?"
You laugh as you see him turn his head to scowl at you.
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The next day soon arrives and you're back at the same spot on the beautiful hill. You sit down under a tree and bask in the view.
The silence was interrupted by a familiar voice. "You have a death wish, huh?"
"Hey there! Come, sit!" you giggle and pat the spot next to him.
"Tch, this is where I usually sit, woman." He scoffs as he sits down, not showing he was curious at the human interacting with him.
"So... I heard a few guards talking about a certain king of the curses...." you side-eye him, smiling playfully. "Hehe, what even is your name?"
"Ryomen Sukuna. Remember the name of the one who's gonna kill you." He smirks.
"Then why haven't you killed me yet?" you tilt your head.
"I'll have my fun with you for now. You're quite the peculiar human."
"Oh, tell me in advance when you're gonna kill me then, Sukuna!"
"You..." he glares, "Do you not value your life?"
"Meh, not really... No one would miss me anyway." I frown, but a smile quickly replaces it, "So I've decided to just live to the fullest. If I die today, at least I had fun yesterday~"
Sukuna stays silent as he watches you cheerfully talk about death with his brows furrowed. You hum a tune while enjoying the comfortable silence for a few minutes and then turn to look at him.
Your lips part when you continue to stare at him, his features complimenting his handsome face. Sukuna, for some reason, found it hard not to look back at your stare. After a while, he turned his head to look back into your eyes.
You flinch as his eyes look into yours. Your cheeks tint at his intimidating state and you give him a shy smile.
"So... um... what's... your favorite color...?"
Silence fills the air at the random question, and your cheeks tint even more. You let out a small laugh at your own embarrassment.
Sukuna takes a peek at the warm flush of your cheeks and lets out a huff, "Red."
You whip your head to him and flash a bright smile, "That really suits you! Mine is white hehe~"
". . ."
"So... what do you like to ea-"
"Shut up."
You zip your lips shut and sit more comfortably next to him. The silence was so oddly comforting that you drifted off to sleep. Your head slowly leaning to to direction Sukuna was sitting.
His shoulder was too high for your small figure, so your head rested on the side of his arm. Sukuna looked down, careful not to move his arm. "Tch, unbelievable."
Although he looked annoyed, he didn't move his arm for the rest of his time there.
You wake up and your eyes slowly open. The sun in the horizon has just set and the moon is starting to peak into the sky. Your head lifts up from an... arm?
"Wha..." you let out a yawn.
You hear a scoff, "Why did you sleep for so long?"
"S-Sukuna?!"
You put the pieces together and realize that Sukuna let you sleep on his arm until you woke up. The thought of that making your cheeks warm.
"Sukuna... that's so sweet of you!" you show a downturned smile to express how grateful you were.
He scowls at you and in a blink, he disappears.
"He didn't even let me say bye..."
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You arrive at the same spot under the tree on the hill. Surprisingly, you see Sukuna already there.
"You're here!~"
He opens two eyes to see your figure running towards him. He sighs and shuts his eyes again, slowly getting used to his human's presence.
You stop right in front of him, admiring his face once more, being less embarrassed now that his eyes were shut. Soon, you give into your temptation.
"Sukuna..."
He opens an eye.
"Can I touch you now? I asked first this time!" you clasp your hands and interwine your fingers to say please.
He scoffs and shuts the eye. You frown letting out a small 'Hmp' of sulk.
"I didn't say no."
You gasp in excitement and reach out your hands to his face. Your fingertips gently touch his face. You didn't notice the subtle flinch Sukuna did.
Your fingers trace the marks on his face. He exhales from his nose, the air hitting your skin making you feel warm inside. You slowly lift your thumbs to caress the area next to his bottom eyes, the rest of your fingers at the back of his ear. You couldn't help but hum a small 'woah~' in admiration.
"Your eyes are beautiful." Flustered at your own words, your cheeks tint in embarrassment.
His eyes open, both of you staring into each other. He glares at you and whips his head to the side, your hands still on his face. "How absurd."
"It's true..." You let out a chuckle and kneel down next to him. This time, you trace the marks on his arms.
What you didn't notice earlier was how Sukuna's cheeks warmed up at your compliment, with the same grumpy face. He shook his head and sighed, focusing on the feeling of your skin on his.
The rest of the day you just held onto his hand tracing lines and giving light massages while bringing up small conversation topics. He gave small answers, but you were overjoyed at your interactions.
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Two weeks have gone by since then. As the days continued, Sukuna began to warm up more to you, talking to you in longer sentences and not telling you to shut up anymore. You were currently on your way to meet him again. Meanwhile, Sukuna was starting to realize his feelings for you.
"Princess Y/N, Please! Finish your food before you go!" The maid sighs as she watches you run away. She looks over at the unfinished plate, wondering what in the wilderness is so interesting to her highness.
As she takes a closer look in the plate, she gasps. "Oh my heavens! T-This is... The Princess is allergic to this!"
Without a care in the world, you skip towards Sukuna's spot, excited to meet your king of the curses.
"I'm here!"
Insted of sitting in his usual spot, he was standing near the cliff, looking at the horizon.
"Sukuna! you admiring the view?"
He doesn't reply and you look at his back, confused. The dark clouds in the sky let out a thunder.
"How dare you."
"W-What?"
He turns around and scowls, "How dare you make me feel- Ugh."
"Huh?" you say confused, raindrops start dropping on both of you.
In a flash, he disappears from where he was standing and was now in front of you. His hand swiftly attacks for your neck but he quickly stops and is an inch away from your skin.
You flinch, but don't move. you give him a chuckle.
"Sukuna... I told you in advance to tell me first before you kill me." you laugh.
He growls in frustration and puts his hands down. "Ugh..."
"But... As strange as it may seem, the time I spent with you was the happiest I've ever been. Thank you for showing me kindness, even in your own way. Farewell, Sukuna. I will never forget you!"
You stand on your tip toes and met your lips with his. It was just a gentle peck, but it sent shivers down her spine.
"Idiot."
As you pull away, content, you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes. 'I wonder what face he's making right now', the thought making you smile. You grab the same hands that tried to attack you earlier and wrapped them around your neck.
"Huh?" you look up at him confused, only to be more confused as you analyzed his face.
'He looks... troubled? I'm not so sure'
He pulls his hands away from your neck and sighs. He grabs you arms and rests his head on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "What kind of sick curse is this..."
". . . Sukuna?"
Although he wasn't exactly hugging you, you wrap your arms around him and hug back. The rain hitting the both of you as you warm up in each other's arms.
". . . I'm confused, are you still killing me or not?"
". . . Pft."
You gawk as you hear Sukuna let out a chuckle. Seeing his lips turn up was a better view than the horizon behind them.
You look up at him and smile, "Hehe, you still haven't answered m-"
The moment was interrupted when you cough out blood. A sudden burning sensation you feel in your chest. You let go of him to hold your chest in pain, your body slouching as you groan.
"D-Damn...I-I shouldn't have-ugh... ate those."
"Y/N?!"
The sound of his name flow out of his voice made your heart flutter but the pain overpowers that.
"Agh-" You drop to the floor, "Don't w-worry, these are just allergies."
He gets on his knees and uses his reverse cursed technique to heal you from your suffering. The pain was too much for you to handle though, and you pass out in his arms.
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You jolt awake in your room, looking around confused.
"Sukuna?"
You call out for him but nothing happens. His scent still lingering in the room so you're sure he tucked you back into bed.
You smile as your heart flutters, going back to sleep.
"Y-Your Highness! Are you sure you're okay?" your maid stutters as she hands you your breakfast the next morning.
"Yes yes~ Don't worry about lil' old me!"
You quickly finish your breakfast, wanting to see him as soon as possible. You quickly run and you arrive at the spot in no time and you see him there.
You don't even call out to him, you just run towards his sitting figure, bend over, and wrap your arms around his neck.
He jolts in surprise but immediately calms down as he takes a whiff of your hair.
"Sukuna, you saved me twice already. Thank you for yesterday." you smile, embarrassed to make eye contact with him.
He places a hand on your back to push your body into his. Now, you're straddling his lap and you stay in position.
You fidget your hands, "Ugh~ It's kinda awkward now after I did a whole farewell speech yesterday..." you whine as you recall the events yesterday.
"Yeah, you're farewell kiss too."
You blush and groan into his shoulder, clenching your fists in his robe in embarrassment.
"Hah, is the princess embarrassed? Look at me."
As if it was a spell, you comply immediately and shyly pull away to look at him.
He grabs your chin and pulls your face closer.
"You have to take responsibility for what you did yesterday." He smirks.
"R-Responsibility?!" you squeak.
"Don't think I'll be satisfied with a mere kiss, Princess."
He smashes his lips onto yours. Unlike the sweet and short peck, this was hot and passionate. His upper arms land on your waist and slides the up and down the side of your body.
You feel his tongue enter your mouth and you shift your hips to adjust your position, making you grind on his crotch. The friction making you both groan in pleasure, all of his blood rushing to the length under his robe.
"S-Sukuna." you couldn't help but whine his name in the middle of your tongues dancing. Hearing his name turns him on even more, and his hands go from your hips to sliding inside your kimono to grab hold of your breasts.
You let out a moan at his touch on your bare chest. His bottom arms sliding up your kimono underneath you, his hands traveling up to grope both cheeks of your ass. Wanting to touch him, your hands go down to his chest, sliding inside his robe to touch explore your hands around his bare chest and abs. Your touch making Sukuna groan and start grinding his hips underneath yours, you moan in his lips and grind on him as well.
His hands slide off your kimono, leaving you in your undergarments. The cool air hitting your skin, but you couldn't feel it from the heat of the intimate moment. His bottom hands start to tug on your panties and he whispers into your lips.
"You think you can handle me, Princess?"
You moan in confirmation, sliding off the top part of his robe and continuing to grind on him. He hisses in pleasure and rips off your panties and throw them to the side.
"Ah!" you squeak in embarrassment, pulling away and looking down at yourself, but what caught your eye is the visible bulge twitching underneath the fabric of his robe. You curiously grope it, causing a moan to slip off his mouth, and snatches your hand away.
"Later."
He grabs both of your wrists and pushes you to the clean grass. He looks up and down your naked body and smirks, feeling another twitch from his cock. His eyes landed on your pussy, already soaking wet.
His eyes darkens and he grins, ready to devour you. He brings a hand to your folds and run his fingers along the wetness dripping down your thighs. "How can you be this wet already?" he chuckles and inserts a finger inside, his other hands playing with your breasts.
The sensation making you moan in pleasure, the back of your hand covering your mouth in embarrassment. The moans continue when he starts thrusting the finger in a moderate motion. After a few seconds of adjusting, he shoves another finger in.
The sounds of his fingers fucking your wet pussy fill the air. He feels your walls clench and sees your body start to arch. He sees the way you were making a mess already just with his fingers. Your moans get whinier and he loses it.
He grunts and shoves the robe of his body and your eyes widen. You stare at his two cocks twitching in the air, gulping at its huge size. "S-Sukuna..."
"You want to stop?" you whine and shook your head immediately, "That's what I thought. Now come here, princess."
Not giving you enough time to process, he picks you up and puts him in the stradling position you were earlier in, the tip of his cock goes in and he thrusts inside.
"Ngh- Ah~ S-Sukuna." He grunts in reply, feeling your pussy clench in his hard cock.
"Fuck, princess."
The pleasure was nothing you ever felt before. You look down and see his other cock twitching against your stomach. You reach your hand to grab his length which causes his head to roll back in pleasure and let out a deep moan.
You pump his cock, while adjusting to the other cock that was already inside you. "Prince- Agh, Shit." Your hand going faster and faster, the sounds of his groans making your walls clench, making him groan even louder.
He grabs your hand to stop you. "I can't hold it anymore. I'm gonna destroy this tight little pussy, yeah?"
He grabs your hips and starts bouncing you up and down, his cock thrusting inside of you without mercy.
"Ah... Suku- Agh~" You were drowning in pleasure, eyes rolling back as you listen to the sounds of your wetness and both of your skins slapping against each other.
He was thrusting into you mercilessly, your mewls just making his climax come closer. He feels your walls clench uncontrollably and he moans your name.
"Y/N. Fuck- I'm going crazy" he huffs, acting like an animal in heat.
He pushes you back into the soft grass into a new position, bringing your knees to your chest, his cock thrusting into you sloppily. A visible bump in your belly when he thrusts inside. Two hands behind your knees. One hand rubbing your clit. One hand pumping his other cock.
"Agh~ T-There... Sukuna-"
He hits a certain spot causing your body to twitch and making your eyes water up from the pleasure.
Sukuna pounds faster into your pussy, his precum smeared along your soaked walls. You were letting him use your body and it felt so good.
You feel something building up inside of you, and you whine. "Ah- wait! Sukuna~ I- I-" you whine in pleasure as your body arches, your juices spilling into his cock.
"That's right, princess. Let it out." he coos into your ear. "My turn."
You gasp for air as he thrusts again into your sensitive pussy, making your mewl echo into the air. Your juices increase the sound of the wetness as he slaps his skin into yours, the mix of your arousals filling the air.
"Fuck- I should fill you up, huh? Breed my precious princess?"
"Agh- P-Please!~ I-"
He moans as he shoots his load into you and fill up your pussy, having both of your juices mixed up. His other cock also shooting cum onto your stomach. Your body twitches at the feeling of his seed inside you, grabbing both of his arms for support. He sighs in pleasure and pulls out, watching as the juices ooze out of your aching pussy.
"You did so good, Princess." is the last thing you hear before you pass out.
You flutter your eyes open to see a room that wasn't yours. Sukuna lying down next to you in bed. You look down on your clothed body to see you were cleaned up and well taken care of after.
"Sukuna..." you mutter, eyes still droopy "I can't move my legs~"
"Heh, you're gonna get used to it."
"Hm?" You tilt your head.
"You're mine now. This is the consequence of your actions, right? You can't escape now." He smirks as he picks you up and puts you on top of him.
You stare at him in shock then laugh, "Now why would I dare leave my king, he'll get lonely without me~"
You plant a sweet kiss on his lips and pull away to see a smile on his face. His smile making you feel warm inside as your cheeks tint. You giggle and snuggle into his arms and you enjoy each other's warm, and will continue to enjoy each other's presence in the future.
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5K notes · View notes
mystellenia · 6 days
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ellie's breeding strap
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summary: ellie tries out the cum filled strap with you for the first time.
content: dommy mommy!ellie, sub!reader, breeding kink, cum filled strap, mention of reader ovulating, begging, praise, one (1) pussy slap, oral (r receiving), strap on sex (r receiving), horndog!ellie, desperate!reader
notes: giggling at how when i started writing this i was like ‘gonna keep this under 1k words!!’
(wc 2.0k)
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"baby!" you hear ellie yell out, hearing her tone turn whiny. "are you almost done? come back, please." 
"yeah, i'm getting out now!" you pull the shower curtain open as your pruned fingers wrap around the faucet handle, the pitter-patter of the shower water slowing down to a stop. wet feet sinking into the shag rug just outside the tub, you wrap yourself in your towel and dab your skin dry, securing it under your arms. 
"there you are," ellie says, moving her gaze up from her phone to follow your covered figure as you make your way across the bedroom. her eyes briefly drop to the hem of your towel at your mid-thigh before moving back up to your head. she watches you rummage through the dresser and pull out a pair of clean underwear and one of her folded oversized t-shirts. 
"ugh, i hate showering but i love feeling clean." you place the underwear on the top of the dresser and unfold ellie's shirt to look at the design. without folding it up again, you drop it in the drawer and pull out another one of her shirts, again unfolding it and holding it up to examine it. "my phone says i’m ovulating today. wanna get me pregnant?" you joke, throwing a smile over your shoulder at her to see her head perched up against the headboard and her eyes zeroed in on you. 
"whoa," you shudder while turning your head back to face the shirt again. her gaze was almost predatory, and it made a warm feeling swirl in your stomach. "don't look at me like that." 
"like what?" she mutters, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed to stand up. 
you settle on this shirt and shut the drawer, pivoting to face her. "like that," you say, "like i'm a turkey leg. like you wanna eat me." you say the last part a bit quieter, intimidated by her stalking closer to you. you then become hyperaware of the single layer between your body and her, one that could very easily be discarded. 
ellie finally approaches you, her eyes flicking down to your exposed shoulders and then back up to your eyes. she raises her hand to grab a strand of hair, thumbing the wet lock and twirling it around her finger. 
"you're ovulating today," she echoes lowly, to herself more than to you. pulling her fingers back, she lets the hair fall to your shoulder and watches a drop of water trickle down from it. 
you try to appear unaffected, but your breath can't help but hitch at the cold drop of water falling down, eventually getting soaked up by your towel. 
ellie pushes your hair over your shoulder and wraps her hand around the back of your neck. she draws in and just lets her lips brush over yours, laughing at how you try to chase them as she pulls away a little. 
"oh, no, baby." she pulls your towel out from under where it was secured under your arm and lets it fall to your feet. your nipples immediately tighten at the wave of air and at her presence. you almost whine at how she hasn't looked down at your body yet, her gaze still fixed on your face. 
"get on the bed," she orders. 
your brain was fogged by lust, and you ask her to repeat herself. 
"get" —she steps aside to clear a path for you to lay on the middle of the mattress— "on the bed." 
you slowly walk towards the bed, one shy foot in front of the other, and ellie pushes on your shoulder when you stand about two steps from the bed, making you fold over onto the mattress. your knees slightly touched the floor, but your damp torso was spread across the cold sheets, your body wrapped around the edge of the bed in an "L" shape. 
you feel ellie's warm palms on your shoulders, tracing down your spine and down to your ass where she begins to roughly knead the fat. 
"mmmm," she groans, soaking up the way you squirm under her touch. she kneels down and spreads your ass cheeks to get a clear view of your cunt, puffy and crying for her. 
she presses a firm kiss to your neglected clit, and you jump, surprised by the sudden touch. sticking her tongue out, she licks a long, flat strip up from your clit to your pulsing hole. you push your hips back into her face and whine, chasing the pleasure from her mouth. 
ellie stands back up and harshly slaps your pussy, making you yelp out and close your thighs around her hand. her hand wraps around your left knee and quickly flips you over onto your back, now grabbing both knees and pushing you higher onto the bed by thrusting her hips into yours. 
"ellie," you breathlessly plead, needing more than what she was giving you. 
she climbs onto the bed to kneel in between your spread legs, your bare pussy so close to her clothed one. "yeah, baby?" 
simply whining, you lock your feet around her hips and pull her closer to you, the brief friction of her jeans on your clit making your eyes close. 
ellie drops a hand by your head and leans down to kiss your neck, sucking her way up to your lips into a messy kiss. she moans into it, her other hand trailing down to rub your thigh that was hugging her hips. she moves it down to your weeping cunt, just sliding three fingers up and down to gather your slick. your hips buck at the teasing, and you break the kiss in frustration, throwing your head back onto the sheets. 
"ask me to put my fingers in," ellie says, her eyes locked on yours. 
you lift your head back up to look at her. "i..." you try, but trail off into an embarrassed whine. 
she clicks her tongue. "come on, baby, use your words. i'm not doing it until you ask me." 
"please give me your fingers... inside, please," you murmur lowly and close your eyes, your face warming. ellie lets it slide because she needs this just as much as you, if not more. 
she dips her fingers into you and stops at her last knuckle, letting you adjust to it while her thumb rubs your clit. once you start getting restless, she pulls her fingers out and thrusts them back in, finding the rhythm that makes your moans the loudest. 
your eyes crack open to look at her, her eyes already on your face. "you look prettiest when i have you like this," she says, her eyes dropping down to watch how your pussy swallows her fingers in. 
keeping her fingers pumping inside you, she lowers her face down to your core and latches her lips onto your clit. your hips fly off the bed and you shriek, your hand flying up to your mouth to cover it. the duet of ellie's fingers rubbing your g-spot and her mouth violently sucking on your clit brings you to your climax embarrassingly fast. your hands shoot to her hair, pulling her head into you as you ride out your orgasm.  
ellie pulls her fingers out but continues to lap at you until you grow overstimulated and push her away. she kisses your stomach, then moves up to your lips to kiss them. you moan at how you can taste yourself on her lips, your cunt clenching at the thought. 
"i have something to try, i'll be back. don't let your hands trail down, yeah?" she drops one last kiss on your cheek, standing and making her way to the bathroom. you think about touching yourself while she's gone, but you quickly remember what she said and settle for just rubbing your nipples.  
after about two minutes, the bathroom door opens and out walks ellie with a new strap secured to her hips. she's ditched her shirt and sports bra, but her jeans and boxers are pushed down to her mid-thigh, seemingly just low enough for her to buckle the harness on without getting fully naked. as she walks closer, you examine it more. it's black, a little skinnier than the ones ellie normally uses, but this one is much longer. you notice a small hole at the very tip. 
"it's a breeding strap. remember how we were talking about it?" ellie says, closely watching your face to gauge your reaction. 
your pupils swell with lust, and you forget to verbally respond, instead dumbly nodding while still looking at the strap. 
she chuckles at your response, at your eagerness. "yeah?" 
"yeah," you breathe, opening your legs just slightly to not look so desperate, even though you were. 
ellie settles on the bed on her knees, lifting your legs and placing them on her thighs. she spits down onto the strap, pumping it with her hand to lube it up for you, and the sight makes your stomach tighten. 
rubbing the tip through your folds, she squeezes your thigh in confirmation. "you ready?" 
"yes," you respond breathlessly, your clit throbbing in anticipation. 
she grunts in response, pushing the tip inside. with the strap being skinnier, the stretch isn't too bad. by the time she normally bottoms out with other straps, though, she continues, and you look down in surprise, still seeing a good inch and a half left. the further she pushes in, the lower your jaw drops, a loud moan escaping your mouth once you finally feel her hair tickling your clit. 
"how you doing?" ellie asks, checking in on you. 
"yes, again. do it again." you move your body up so she can pull out faster and thrust in again. 
she smiles at how clearly you're enjoying this, and obeys. this time, she thrusts in quicker, forcing a gurgled whimper out of you. 
"fuck," she exhales. pulling out again, she settles at a faster pace, the tip deliciously prodding your cervix. 
it was clearly one of your more vocal days, your moans and whimpers bouncing off of every surface in the room, the wet slapping of your ass meeting ellie's thighs still audible. ellie only rarely got you so broken down like this so quickly, and she felt that dangerous swirling heat deep in her stomach, the base of the strap pushing on her clit at the perfect angle. 
"so deep," you manage to eke out. 
"i know, baby. so deep. gonna give you my kids, yeah?" her legs began to shake and she was starting to sound strained, telltale signs that she was getting close. she brought her hand in between the two of you to quickly rub your clit, and your moans somehow grow even louder. 
"i'm gonna cum," you basically whisper, unable to form a thought longer than five words. 
"you gonna cum?" ellie echoes and you rapidly nod. "say my name when you do." 
your moans become weak whimpers as you cum. "el- ell- fuck," you try twice and fail to say her name. her orgasm slams into her at how pathetic you sound, and her hand scrambles to squeeze the base of the strap, shooting warm cum deep into your cunt. the tightness in her stomach doubles at the sight of cum leaking out the sides of your pussy, the thought of her seed inside of you enough to make her moan. 
ellie collapses onto you, a twitching and panting mess. you lay lifeless underneath her, trying to regulate everything after a mind-numbing orgasm.  
"jesus fucking christ," she breathes out. 
you loosely throw your arms around ellie's back. "that was so good," you pant. "wanna order in?" 
"in, like, ten minutes. can't pull out yet, i gotta give it time to hold." 
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i havent posted in like 2 months i think sorry my kittens. i like never post 2k words tho so stay well fed. also go drink some water bc i always forget
reblogs appreciated :')
@abbysbug @starlight-savegery @saturnsdrafts @yalaysbee @ieatpancreas
@ashlynlovestlou @macaroni676 @les4elliewilliams @jeonkio05 @leosw0rld
@elliewilliamskissr1 @urlocalelliesimp @syndicakes @euphoric-rush @yurixxiii
@montyvocx @unemployedstonerlizard @staryiuu @nevergooddreams @cherrywyn
@ghostly-bubbles @mikellie @elliesfavwife @g0d-wont-let-me-die @elliewilliamssrealgf
@visupremacysstuff @pieceofabby @distantsapphicdream @faithlehaneirl @n0t-elliewilliams
1K notes · View notes
d1stalker · 1 month
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The Feeling's Mutual | Part One
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[Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader]
Summary: If somebody told you a week ago that you were a mutant, being stalked, and would be teaming up with an annoying, grumbly bastard, you probably would have laughed in their face. Too bad that was last week, because here you are, in that very situation, wondering how in the world things escalated so quickly.
PART TWO PART THREE FINAL PART
Warnings: fem!reader, canon-level violence, reluctant alliance, bickering, not exactly enemies-to-lovers but they don't rly get along, it's gonna be a slow burn y'all WC: 5.7k - MASTERLIST - A/N: If you saw me post this earlier, no you didn't 🤫 i added more hehe
You’ve never been so confused in your entire life.
It all started last week—when you were walking to the grocery store. Just an ordinary day, nothing special about it. You had a list in your hand, some cash in your pocket, and thoughts of what to cook for dinner running through your mind. The route you took had you winding down the usual streets of your neighbourhood, and that’s when you noticed him.
Something about him was different, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on what it was that made you think that. Perhaps it was the way his eyes followed you, stalking you, like a predator its prey.
At first, you thought it might be a coincidence. Maybe he was just another person going about his day, heading in the same direction as you. People share paths all the time; there was no reason to suspect anything sinister, right? But as you continued walking, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach told you something was off. You decided to test it, making a sudden turn down a side street, one you usually never take.
The street was quieter, less foot traffic, and the late afternoon shadows were starting to stretch across the pavement. You glanced over your shoulder, and there he was, still a few steps behind, his gaze remaining locked onto you with a focus that sent a shiver down your spine. Quickening your pace, you felt an almost paralyzing fear.
This wasn’t just a shared route. 
The more you turned, the more you weaved through unfamiliar streets, the more persistent he became. He never faltered, never hesitated, always keeping just close enough to let you know he was there.
Finally, you reached the store, breathing in short, panicked gasps, your eyes flitting around. You ducked inside, hiding the fluorescent lights and bustling aisles. You tried to calm yourself, telling yourself it was nothing, that you were being paranoid. After all, what were the odds? Maybe he’d walk past, maybe he wasn’t even following you. You spent longer than usual picking up items you didn’t need, giving him time to disappear. 
But when you walked back outside, bags in hand, you saw him again. He wasn’t right at the door, but still, close enough—across the street, half-hidden in the shadow of another building, watching. His eyes locked with yours once more, and you froze, the plastic handles of the grocery bags digging into your palms as your grip tightened in fear. He didn’t move, didn’t smile or sneer, just stood there, silent.
You rushed home, not even bothering to see if he was tracking you down, too scared to find out the answer. Your mind was racing with a million thoughts. Who was he? What did he want? You didn’t sleep much that night, jumping at every creak and groan the apartment made, the image of that man’s cold stare burned into your mind.
The next day, you told yourself it was nothing, a one-time thing, just some creep who had too much time on his hands. A pervert, possibly. 
But happened again. A different man this time, but with the same unnerving intensity. He followed you the same way, mute and relentless, through the streets, to the store, and back home.
Then the day after that, and that, and that. They didn’t approach you directly, just followed, watched, waited. It was like a game, one that you didn’t know the rules to, and the stakes felt like they were getting higher and higher and more time passed. Whenever you stepped outside, you felt their eyes on you, felt their presence lurking just out of sight. It was terrifying.
The fear gnawed at you, growing with each passing day, until it became impossible to ignore. You started taking different routes, avoiding your usual stores, changing your routine as much as you could. Still, no matter what you did, they always found you.
Soon it changed—no longer just silent stalking. One night, as you were walking home, one of the men stepped out from the shadows and blocked your path. His presence was oppressive, the way he stood there, so still, so certain of his power over you. You had no idea what he wanted, but you knew it whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“Why are you following me?” you demanded, trying to muster up all the courage you could, voice shaking slightly despite your attempt to sound strong.
“Because we were told to,” the man said, his voice cold and emotionless. There was no malice, no pleasure in his words, just a chilling matter-of-factness. “You’re coming with us.”
Panic surged through you, a primal instinct to run, to fight, to do anything but comply. You refused to show it, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spat back, hoping your defiance would be enough to make him reconsider.
His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them, and before you could react, he lunged at you, his fist swinging with brutal intent. Time seemed to slow as you saw the blow coming, your mind racing, but your body moving almost on instinct. You raised your arms to defend yourself, bracing for the crushing impact that would follow.
You couldn’t explain what happened next. When his fist connected with your arm, the force that should have sent you to the ground, left you unscathed. Instead, it was the man who staggered back, a look of shock and pain twisting his features. He clutched his hand, wincing as if he had struck something far harder than just flesh and bone.
You stared at him, bewildered, before glancing down at your own arm in disbelief. There was no pain, no bruise, nothing to indicate that you’d just been hit. It was as if his attack had bounced off of you, like you were made of steel.
Had you really just blocked that hit? And why did it feel like… nothing?
Before you could process what had happened, before the realization could fully take root, another man appeared out of nowhere, moving with a speed that blurred the edges of his form. Mutant. He was faster than the first, more determined, and this time, you felt your heart stop as he came at you from behind, his hands outstretched to grab you.
But something in you reacted faster than your fear. You twisted out of his grip with lightning speed, with movements so fluid and precise, it was as if your body knew exactly what to do, even if your brain was struggling to keep up. You sidestepped his attack, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and found yourself behind him, safe for the moment.
“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. How did you move like that? How had you known where to go, how to dodge?
There was no time to dwell on it. The fight intensified in an instant, the two men coming at you one after another, relentless in their assault. They weren’t holding back, and suddenly neither were you. You moved like a force of nature, dodging their attacks, striking back when you could. Each punch you threw landed with a power that surprised even you. You watched in stunned disbelief as one of the men crumpled to the ground after a single blow, his eyes rolling back as if he’d been hit by a truck.
You are not a gym regular. In fact, you hadn’t worked out in weeks. You weren’t strong, not like this. So how was it possible that your punches were so devastating, that each one seemed to carry a weight far beyond what you’d ever imagined?
Then, with a flick of his wrist, the first mutant, conjured a ball of fire in his hand, the flames crackling and roaring, craving something to burn. He hurled it at you, the fireball spinning through the air with only one target in mind. 
You barely had time to scream as the flames engulfed your arm, the searing heat burning through your skin. The pain was unbearable, a white-hot agony that made you gasp and stumble back. You expected to see your skin blackened, blistered, ruined.
And it was.
For a minute. 
To your shock—or horror—you looked down, breath catching in your throat as you watched the burn heal right before your eyes. The charred skin knitted back together in seconds, smooth and unblemished, as if nothing had happened at all.
What the fuck? 
It was in that moment that the truth hit you, like a thunderclap in your mind. You weren’t just an ordinary person caught in a nightmare. You were a mutant, with powers that had only now revealed themselves, right when you needed them most.
The men kept coming, but now you fought with a new understanding. Each punch, each dodge, each rapid movement felt more controlled, more intentional, your gym class self-defence courses coming in clutch. You were strong, faster than you’d ever been, and you could heal—regenerate from injuries that would have left others incapacitated.
Finally, the two men laid groaning on the ground, defeated. You stood there, panting, your mind spinning as you tried to make sense of it all. Super strength, super speed, regeneration… these powers, they were yours. And they had just saved your life.
But as the adrenaline began to fade, confusion set in. What did these men want with you? Why had they gone to such lengths to provoke you? To make you discover what you were capable of? 
All you knew was that one thing was clear: this was far from over. Whoever had sent these men wouldn’t stop here. They knew what you were now, and that meant they’d come after you again. You weren’t just an ordinary person anymore. You were something else, something powerful. And that put a target on your back. 
Whatever was coming next, you needed to be ready.
----
That’s how you found yourself here, one week later, crouched on the apartment rooftop, the cold wind nipping at your exposed skin. The dark streets below are eerily silent, save for the distant hum of traffic. You sense them before you see them—another group of male mutants, closing in on your position. You grip the hilt of your knife tighter, feeling the now-familiar twinge of anger and frustration settle in your chest. This is the fifth group tonight. They’ve been hunting you in groups for days now, their numbers increasing as each one goes by, and you’re tired of it. 
You’ve started to get used to your new powers—testing your limits, pushing yourself harder with each confrontation. What started as simple self-defence, a punch here, a dodge there, has escalated into something far more lethal.
You didn’t want to kill, didn’t want to by use your sharpest kitchen knife (your only kitchen knife) as a weapon, but as the attacks became more violent, you found yourself with little to no choice. 
These mutants weren’t holding back, and neither could you.
Within a week, you went from the most average person in the world to what some people might call a vigilante—except you're really only trying to save your own skin.
Leaping off the roof, you land silently behind them. The speed at which you move is almost dizzying, your body a blur as you close the distance in the blink of an eye. 
“Looking for someone?” you call out sarcastically.
They turn, eyes widening in surprise, but you’re already moving. Your blade sings through the air, striking true, as you move like a shadow, taking them down one by one. It’s not easy—these guys are tough—but you’ve become tougher. With each strike, you can feel your strength surging, far beyond what should be possible. One of the mutants tries to block you, creating a forcefield, but you grab the edges before it can fully form, and break through it, the temporary pain vanishing as quick as it came. A solid kick to his face, and he crumples to the ground, unconscious before he even realizes it.
“Is this what you wanted?!” you shout, your voice echoing through the empty street as the last attacker falls to the ground, groaning in pain. “Is this what you came for?!”
The answer doesn’t come from them. Rather, it comes from a low growl behind you. 
You whirl around, heart racing, and there he is—Logan Howlett—the Wolverine himself. The man you’ve read about in every article, every piece of mutant-related news you could get your hands on since discovering your own abilities. He’s infamous, pretty much a legend, and the stories about him are as terrifying as they are fascinating.
Standing there with that scowl on his face, he looks every bit the dangerous figure you’ve imagined. His eyes are blank, calculating, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as it sizes you up. There’s a tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as he takes a step closer.
“So, you’re the one causing all this trouble,” Logan states gruffly, irritation coating his tongue. He unsheathes his claws, the adamantium glimmering under the streetlights. The sound is unmistakable, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Heard you’ve been killin’ off mutants left and right.”
You narrow your eyes, instinctively stepping back into a defensive stance. Your heart is pounding, but you can't show any weakness. 
“Funny, I thought the same about you, Wolverine. What’s the matter? Run out of bad guys to play hero with?”
Without warning, he charges at you, claws outstretched, but you’re ready. You dart to the side, your speed giving you an edge as his claws slice through the air where you’d been standing, making a woosh sound. You counter with a swift kick to his ribs, putting your enhanced strength into the blow. He grunts, stumbling slightly, but quickly regains his balance. The momentary advantage you gained is gone as he storms toward you once more.
You meet his attacks head-on, your blade clashing with his claws in a shower of sparks. The force of each impact reverberates through your arms, but you hold your ground, refusing to back down. His attacks are ferocious, a whirlwind of claws and fury. He's fast, but you’re faster, dodging and weaving with a precision that keeps you just out of reach.
“Look, sweetheart,” he growls between strikes, his frustration evident. “You can make this easy or hard. I don’t care which, but I’m not lettin’ you hurt anyone else.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes as you deflect another swipe of his claws. “Oh, please. You think I’m the bad guy here? These jerks have been coming after me for days. I’m just defending myself.”
Logan doesn’t look convinced, and that pisses you off more than anything. “Right. And I’m supposed to believe you, why? You’re leavin’ a trail of bodies behind you.”
You narrow your eyes, feeling the anger boil over. “Because I’m not the one who started this! They did! But of course, you wouldn’t know that, would you? You just show up, swinging your claws around like you’re the big savior.”
“You got a mouth on you, don’t ya?” He retorts, snarling as he charges at you again, faster this time. You barely have time to block his attack, the force of his blow sending you skidding back several feet. But you dig your heels in, refusing to give an inch as he continues plows forward. Your speed kicks in, allowing you to duck under his next swing and land a punch to his jaw.
He staggers, but quickly recovers, swiping at you with renewed fury. You're a bit sloppy compared to him, not as much of a seasoned fighter. His claws swipe at your arm, cutting deep and drawing blood, but the wound heals almost instantly, the skin closing up as if it had never been cut. You see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, but it doesn’t slow him down. He lunges again, becoming a blur of motion as he ups the ante.
You parry with your knife, but this time, you’re on the offensive. You launch a rapid series of attacks, your speed and strength managing to drive him back. In the rush of movement, you're able to see an opening, grasping his shoulder and shoving him hard, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. The impact is enough to crack the brick, but Logan just shakes it off, pushing himself back to his feet.
“Gotta say,” you huff, panting slightly from the exertion, “I’m a little disappointed. I expected more from the you, after all I’ve heard.”
Logan grunts, clearly fed up with the banter. “I'm done talking.”
He lunges at you again, and this time, it’s a battle of wills as much as it is of skill. You don't back down, your knife clashing with his claws in a series of rapid, brutal strikes. The alleyway becomes a blur of movement, metal against metal, strength against strength. Each time his claws find their mark, your regenerative abilities kick in, healing the wounds almost as quickly as they’re made. 
And for a moment, you wonder if you’ll have to kill him too, just to survive. But then something shifts. Maybe it’s the way your attacks grow weaker, less lethal. Or maybe it’s the way Logan’s eyes narrow in realization when he notices your hesitance.
“Wait a damn minute,” Logan says, stepping back just out of your reach, wiping his mouth, then spitting on the ground. He’s breathing hard, just like you. “You’re holdin’ back.”
He pauses, his eyes narrowing as they flick down to the knife you’ve been holding, and then back up to you. His expression shifts, a mix of disbelief and exasperation crossing his face. “And is that a kitchen knife?”
You glance down at the knife in your hand, realizing how absurd it must look in the middle of this intense fight. It’s not exactly standard combat gear, but it’s all you had when this started. You can’t help the smirk that pulls at your lips as you meet his gaze again.
“It gets the job done,” you quip, shrugging slightly.
He shakes his head, clearly not impressed. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“I'm choosing to take that as a compliment,” The sarcasm is practically oozing off of you.
He eyes you warily, his posture still tense. “You’re not makin’ this easy, you know. You got me here thinkin’ you’re some crazed mutant killer, but you’re just a girl wavin’ around a kitchen knife like you’re in a bad horror movie.”
You cross your arms. “Well, I didn’t exactly have time to hit up a weapons store. Besides, I didn’t ask for any of this. These guys came after me first.”
Logan studies you. “So you say. But you’re killing dozens of mutants. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘innocent.’”
“Trust me, if I had a choice, I wouldn’t be doing this–fighting… killing–at all. Hell, I didn’t even know I was a mutant until some guy swung his fist at me a week ago.” You meet his gaze, challenging him. “And what about you? You’re not exactly known for playing nice.”
He snorts. “Yeah, well, most of my casualties are from the missions I go on, so I'd say it's justified.”
Your eyes narrow, catching the implication in his words. “Oh, am I your mission now? How long have you been tracking me?”
Logan’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a slight shift in his posture, a subtle acknowledgment that you’ve hit on something. “Long enough to know you’re not just some innocent bystander caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“So, what? You’ve been watching me, waiting for me to screw up so you could take me down?” you demand, the frustration clear in your voice.
“Something like that,” he replies gruffly, “But from what I’ve seen, you’re more reactive than proactive," he looks you up and down. "I can’t seem figure out if you’re the real threat here, or just someone caught in the middle of a bigger mess.”
You let out a slow breath, trying to calm the fiery anger rising within you. “I told you, I didn’t start this. They did. I’m just trying to survive.”
He doesn’t respond immediately, teeth grinding as he considers your words. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to piece together whether you’re telling the truth or just playing him. He takes a step closer, his claws still out but not as threatening as before.
Finally, he asks, “You got a name?”
You roll your eyes, exasperated. “No shit I have a name.”
Logan huffs, unimpressed by your attitude. “Well, if you’re not gonna tell me, I’m just gonna have to call you somethin’… How 'bout Knifey?”
You stare at him, half-expecting him to crack a smile, but he’s dead serious. “Knifey? Really?”
Logan shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he eyes your weapon of choice again. “Fits, don’t you think?”
“Fine. I’ll tell you my name, alright? Anything but Knifey.” You say, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
“... Gotta say, Knifey sounds a little better”
“Shut the fuck up, Wolverine”
“It’s Logan, actually.”
You release a deep sigh. “I know, and I don’t care. I’m telling you I am not the one you need to be going after.”
Logan scoffs, crossing his arms. “I’ve been around a long time. Seen my fair share of people who think they’re doin’ the right thing and end up doin’ a hell of a lot of damage. So, forgive me if I’m a little skeptical.”
“You would know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?” The words come out of your mouth before you had time to think about them, and you regret it immediately. You can see the mutant in front of you’s face darken to a degree bordering murderous, and you think you’ve crossed a line you can’t come back from. Whatever playful banter existed before this is gone.
“Careful,” He growls menacingly, “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
You swallow hard. The Wolverine is infamous for a reason, and you just poked at the beast beneath the surface. You briefly consider backing down, but your pride refuses to let you.
“Maybe I don’t,” you admit, “But I do know what it’s like to be hunted, to have no choice but to fight back. So yeah, maybe we’re more alike than you think.”
Logan’s glare softens just a fraction, and he lets out a long, frustrated breath. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do ya?”
“Not when I’m trying to make a point,” you retort.
He doesn’t respond immediately, just stares at you, as if he’s trying to decide whether to continue this conversation or end it with his claws. Ultimately, he shakes his head, the anger in his eyes dimming, replaced by something more akin to weary resignation.
“Fine,” he mutters. “Maybe you’re not the one I should be takin’ down. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start trustin’ you.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” you reply, feeling a bit of relief that the situation isn’t about to escalate into another fight. “But I swear, there’s someone else out there pulling the strings. And I’m not sticking around to be their puppet.”
He nods slowly, crossing his arms again. “We’ll find out who’s behind this, but I’m callin’ the shots. You step outta line, and we’re gonna have a problem.”
You smirk, a little of your bravado returning. “I’ll try not to disappoint you, Logan.”
You can tell he doesn't appreciate your attitude, but he lets it slide. “Let’s get one thing straight. This ain’t a partnership. I’m doin’ this to figure out what the hell’s goin’ on, not because I like you.”
“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” you shoot back, though there’s no real heat behind your words.
Logan turns abruptly, not even bothering to beckon you with him.
It makes you roll your eyes but you fall in step beside him anyway, knowing that despite the rocky start, this uneasy alliance might be the only thing keeping you alive. 
“…So… where exactly are we going?”
He sends you a sidelong glance. "Who said I’m takin’ you anywhere?"
You throw your hands up, exasperated. "Well, if you don’t, these mutants are going to keep hunting me, and I’m going to keep killing them…” you shoot him a look, batting your eyelashes innocently. “You wouldn't want that, would you?"
“Fuck off”
"Well, too late for that now."
He grumbles something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but it sounds a lot like cursing his bad luck.
"We’re headin’ to my place. It’s the safest spot right now."
----
Turn’s out, it’s not really his place. Or at least, it’s what you’d thought it’d be. It’s more of an abandoned warehouse that he just decided to seek refuge in one day, doing the bare minimum to make it feel at the very least, home-y. The heavy metal doors creak open, revealing a chaotic interior cluttered with garbage, old newspapers, and a few scattered items. In the corner, a single bed and a sagging couch that look like they’ve definitely seen better days.
Your nose wrinkles in disgust as you take in the mess. "Seriously?" you mutter, your voice tinged with disbelief. "This is where you've been hiding out? It looks like a tornado hit a thrift store."
Logan, who had been trailing behind you, lets out a low grunt as he shuffles past, not bothering to respond to your jab. His heavy footsteps echo in the otherwise silent space, the sound bouncing off the bare, cold walls. He heads straight for a small, battered table that looks like it's one sharp nudge away from collapsing. On it lies a worn notebook, its pages yellowed and curling at the edges, evidence of extensive use. Without a word, he picks it up and starts flipping through the pages, his expression unreadable.
Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step closer, peering over his shoulder. "What's this?" you ask, reaching out to take the notebook from him. He hesitates for a brief moment before relinquishing it into your hands. As you flip through the pages, your eyes widen in shock. The notes are detailed, almost obsessively so, listing the names of various mutants, their abilities, and the exact locations where their bodies were found. 
"Oh, great," you say with a sarcastic, half-hearted laugh. "You've been keeping tabs on me. What kind of creepy stalker are you?”
He rolls his eyes and snatches the notebook back, his voice dripping with irritation. "I wasn’t exactly tracking you. I was trying to track whoever’s been killing all those damn mutants."
Logan’s jaw tightens as you just continue to stare, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. "And don’t act all innocent. I needed to know who was causing all the chaos."
Scoffing, you continue to look through the notebook, stopping when you come across a particularly detailed entry. "Wow... 26 kills? Not too shabby for an amateur mutant, huh?"
“Is your mouth unable to stay shut?” he questions, though you know better than to answer that. 
The notebook flops back onto the table with a casual flick of your wrist. "Hey, don’t be mad just because I’m doing a better job than you expected."
He crosses his arms over his chest, his muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt. "I’m not mad," he snaps. "I’m annoyed that you’re making light of this. It’s not exactly a high score to brag about."
"Oh, come on. You’re the one who turned this place into a shrine to my success” you smirk.
"It’s not a shrine," Logan growls, his patience wearing thin. "It’s a record. If you’d been paying more attention to what’s going on, you’d know that."
The playfulness fades from your face as his words hit home. He’s right, but you’re not about to admit it. Instead, you deflect. "Yeah, and if you’d bothered to talk to me instead of playing detective, maybe we’d have figured this out sooner."
"You think you’re the only one who’s had a rough time? This whole situation is a mess, and we’re both caught in it." His eyes narrow.
You cross your arms, mirroring his defensive posture. "You didn’t have to get involved, you know. Unless...what if you’re the bad guy here?" you challenge, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "Using all these mutants to lure me into your dungeon under the pretense of trying to ‘stop’ me?"
His response is immediate. "I’m way too lazy to think of doing all that."
You can’t help but believe him, especially given the state of the warehouse. He clearly lacks the energy—or the interest—to tidy up his living space, let alone mastermind a complex plot. You let out a sigh and walk over to the sagging couch in the corner. The fabric is threadbare, and the springs groan in protest as you flop down onto it.
"Fine, fine... I trust you," you concede, though your tone is far from serious. "Did you notice anything specific amongst these mutants?"
"Yeah, I’ve noticed somethin’,” Logan says, dragging a hand down his face, now looking more tired than ever. “They’re all pretty low-key. Not exactly top-tier in the mutant rankings. Never caused any trouble before, yadda yadda. If anything, they’re usually on the weaker side."
You furrow your brows, intrigued. "So they’re not a serious threat."
"Exactly," Logan confirms with a nod. "It’s weird. These mutants aren’t the type to just go around being fuckin’ annoying like they have been. Someone—or something—must be pushing them into this."
"You think they’re all being controlled somehow?" you muse, the pieces slowly falling into place. "And that’s why they’re suddenly acting out of character?"
"Seems like it," He replies, rubbing his temples. "Must be powerful if they’re all falling in line like this. We’re going to have to dig deeper to find the source of it.
He moves to sit next to you on the couch, the worn fabric sinking even further under his weight. "Tell me everything you know," Logan says quietly, his voice a tinge softer now, almost coaxing. "Everything that’s happened to you."
You sigh and lean back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as you start to recount your experience. "It all began about a week ago. Just a normal day, I was walking to the grocery store, then I noticed this guy following me. At first, I thought it was a coincidence. But no matter where I went, he was always a few steps behind."
His attention sharpens, his gaze locking onto yours. "And?"
"It started as just stalking," you continue, your voice growing quieter as the memories flood back. "Nothing violent. But then, it started happening with different people. Each time, they were more persistent, more intimidating. It became clear that something was off."
You can feel Logan’s gaze burning into you, his concern evident in the way he leans closer, listening intently. "Eventually, they started getting aggressive," you say. "One night, one of them blocked my path and tried to grab me. I managed to fight him off, but when he hit me, it didn’t hurt. I mean, it should have, he looked pretty strong, but my arm felt fine. That’s when I realized I had powers—some form of super strength, super speed, and healing abilities."
"And you figured that out just from fighting them off?" he questions, somewhat impressed.
You nod, rubbing your arms as if to ward off a lingering chill. "Yeah. I didn’t really have a choice. They kept coming, and I had to use whatever I had to protect myself—including my damn kitchen knife. The more I fought, the more I understood what I could do.”
Logan pauses, his expression unreadable as he processes everything you’ve said. The dim light from the single bulb casts long shadows across the room, emphasizing the lines of fatigue etched into his face. Finally, he stands up, his movements slow and deliberate. "So, here’s the plan," he starts, his voice rough and tired. "We need to figure out exactly where these mutants are coming from. There’s gotta be a main location where they’re getting their orders or some central hub for this control."
You hum in agreement, though a part of you is reluctant to jump back into action so soon. "Alright, so how do we start tracking that down?"
His lips press into a thin line as he thinks it over. "We’ll stake out the rooftops. From up there, we can get a clear view of their movements and see if they’re converging somewhere specific. Maybe spot a pattern."
You stretch, stifling a yawn as you glance around the shabby room. "Okay, but are we doing that tonight? I’m pretty beat."
“Seriously? You want to put this off?" he accuses, face twisting in irritation.
"I’m up for it, but I’d be more effective if I’m not running on fumes. Plus, you look pretty tired yourself," you shrug. 
He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow."
A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you sense his reluctance to agree. "So you agree with me," you state, not really feeling any real pride, but just wanting to push his buttons.
Logan grumbles under his breath as he starts to clear a space on the threadbare couch, which creaks loudly under even the slightest pressure. "Do you ever shut up? I’m letting you crash in my bed, aren’t I?"
You chuckle softly, watching him arrange a tattered blanket on the couch with exaggerated care. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Goodnight, old man."
"Watch it, Knifey," he mutters, settling onto the couch with a groan as the springs protest under his weight.
You roll your eyes at his choice of nickname, and with a sigh, you make your way over to the bed, which is small and far from luxurious, but it’s better than nothing. The mattress dips slightly as you climb in, and the covers are thin, barely providing any warmth. Still, exhaustion pulls at you, and you barely have time to think about what the covers smell like before sleep overtakes you.
----
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Content warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, language, public sex,..
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“Here?!” you screeched. 
“Yeah.” Max shrugged, unfazed. “What’s wrong with that?” 
You choked on your own spit at his nonchalance, how carefree he was about this. “W—What do you mean what’s wrong with fucking here, Max? We’re in a damn photo booth!” 
The blank expression on his face was unchanging. “So?” 
The words on the tip of your tongue died out. Your boyfriend could be a little freaky in the bedroom sometimes and you were all for it. Never had you both risked the danger of public sex, however. 
"So?" you sputter, eyes wide in disbelief. "Don't you have any decency, any boundaries?!" Max's stoic face only serves to enrage you further. "Fine, if that's how you want to play it,"
Max slammed his arm against the opposing wall, effectively blocking your path of going out of the photo booth.
 “We’re not leaving until I’ve fucked you.” 
A shudder of arousal ran down your spine at the gruffness of his voice. “Baby,” you laughed nervously. “I know we like to experiment sometimes, but this is a little far, don’t you think?” 
The air between you was thick with tension, especially with a pair of bright blue eyes staring you down so intensely you imagined the burning embers of a fire raging behind them. 
You gulped as Max slowly licked his lips, giving you a once-over that made you feel too exposed in an already revealing sundress. There was a short distance between you, and your boyfriend’s stature was towering and beefy, taking up a large presence — his imposing nature made the hairs on your arms stand up. 
He walked you backwards slowly, step by step until you hit the far wall of the booth. Pressing his nose against the curve of your neck, he snarled. “All I know is that my cock is so fuckin’ hard for you right now and if I don’t have your pussy wrapped around it within the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna haul you over my shoulder and take you out there in front of the whole damn mall.” 
A shiver ran down your spine at his menacing words, your body instinctively pressing back against the cold metal wall of the photo booth as Max's muscular frame loomed over you. The heat of his breath on your neck, the raw intensity in his voice - it was intoxicating and terrifying all at once. You can feel the hardness of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of your dress, as his hands gently but with confident grip move up from your thighs. They slide around to cup your ass, pulling you even closer against him.
You thought you could tamp down the moan trapped in your throat, but you were sorely mistaken when it unleashed without remorse. Your chest heaved with exhilaration and your fingers twitched excitedly at the prospect of something so scandalous. 
“So what’s it gonna be, Liefje? In this photo booth with a little privacy? Or out there where everyone can watch me ruin you? Your choice.”
You had not expected this outcome when you had dragged your boyfriend over to the booth. You wanted to take cute pictures and add them to your keepsake memory box. Now you were deciding your fate; whether you would be leaving your dignity in the tiny stall or chance getting arrested for public indecency in the middle of the shopping mall. 
Max raised an eyebrow, awaiting your answer. 
“In h—here,” you whispered in anticipation. 
The cheshire cat grin you received in return spiked your nerves even further. “Bingo.” 
Without giving you a chance to backtrack on your decision, Max hoisted you up into his arms and smothered your squeal of shock with his lips. He wasted no time snaking his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance like always. 
“Mmph!” you moaned when he flicked his tongue against yours. A zing of electricity shot down to your pussy and you threaded your fingers through his hair, trying to grab a hold of it tightly. 
“Maxie, I swear to God, if you ever cut your hair short again I will leave you then and there.”
Max chuckles against your lips, the vibration sending a shiver down your body. "I wouldn't dream of it, love," he murmurs, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your jaw and neck, all the while keeping you lifted in his arms.
Even after so many years, the spark between you and Max was still alive. Throughout the trysts of your sexual experiences together, the attraction to each other had only intensified. He was sexier now than ever before. And even if he came up with outlandish ideas that made you step out of your comfort zone, you held so much trust in him that it was easy to follow him to the depths of sin. 
He continues to pepper kisses along your collarbone, his warm breath sending goosebumps down your arms as he makes his way to the sensitive spot just above your breasts. Your nipples ache in response, and you arch your back, pressing your chest against his.
“Hold on,” he warned before handling your weight over to one arm. With the other, he unzipped the fly of his trousers and shuffled them down just past his ass until his cock bounced out. 
You gasped at the sight. Max really was hard for you already, if the angry-looking vein straining from his thick length was anything to go by. He was throbbing, you could see his dick viciously twitching with need and your thighs clenched around his waist with hunger. 
The sight of Max, so clearly overwhelmed with desire for you, was indeed a powerful aphrodisiac. The way his throbbing member twitched with need only served to fuel your own desire, your thighs clenching around him in response.
Max's hand finally made contact with your skin, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His fingers traced a path up your side, causing you to shiver with anticipation. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Liefde?"
You tightened your lips to try and hide your smile and shrugged innocently. “Can’t say I mind it so much.” 
His hand reached your breast, cupping it possessively as he squeezed the soft flesh through the fabric of your clothes. "You're so responsive to me," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I can feel how hard your nipples are, even through the thin fabric of your top.
The amusement was quick to wipe from your face when he reached down and ripped the panties covering your mound. “Max!” you scolded. “Those were new!” 
Your heart raced as Max's fingers hooked into the waistband of your new, now destroyed lingerie, effortlessly peeling the delicate fabric away from your heated skin. The cool air of the small photo booth  caressed your exposed lower half, a stark contrast to the burning desire that seemed to radiate from the man holding you.
He rolled his eyes playfully, trying not to laugh at the way the shredded material now hung from your ankle. “Oh, hush. I’ll buy you some more.” 
You huffed. “What? So you can rip them off me again?” 
Max chucked under your chin condescendingly. “Look at you, learning so fast.”
Smug bastard, you cursed internally. 
“Gonna stop complaining and let me fuck you now, mijn kleine meid.?” 
You scowled and poked his chest with your finger. “You better watch the way you speak to me— OH!” The retort on your tongue cut off as Max sheathed the entirety of his length inside of your pussy in one smooth thrust. Your nails dug harshly into the firm muscle of his shoulders and you buried your head into his neck. “H—Holy shit.”
The sudden surge of pleasure that coursed through you at Max's forceful thrust stole your breath away. Your back arched instinctively, pushing yourself harder onto him. The roughness of his actions, the sound of his breath hitching, it was all too intoxicating.
Max's hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer, his fingers leaving imprints on your skin. His thrusts became more urgent, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you with each movement. The feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, was almost overwhelming.
Your moans grew louder, more desperate, as Max's pace quickened. Sweat dripped from his forehead, onto your skin, as he lost himself in the sensations. The air was thick with tension, heavy with anticipation, as you both hurtled towards the edge of a shattering climax. "Max...
The nails of his fingers dug crescent shapes into your bare thighs, but the sting of pain was nothing compared to the slow drag of his cock leaving your cunt. You whimpered as his thick girth left you inch by inch until only the tip sat inside of you. 
“Gonna beg me for it, baby?” he asked. 
"Please," you whimpered, not even realizing the word had escaped your lips. Max's grin was wolfish as he began to ease out completely, just the head of his cock nestled against your entrance. He rocked back and forth, teasing you with the promise of returning to your warmth.
“My baby is so polite. Come on, tell me, Liefde, what do you need and I’ll gladly give it to you.”
"Please, Max," you managed to gasp, the desperation clear in your voice. The denial was torture, the touch and then the swift removal driving you crazy with need. "Please, fuck me, fill me up again."
He shrugged. “Good enough.” 
A high pitched keen was forced out of you when Max thrusted his hips up, his dick sat deep inside of your pussy. “Fuck!”  
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, needing him to touch every part of you. Max obliged, grinding against you with a primal intensity, his hips slapping against your thighs. "Take it, baby," he growled, his voice raw with lust. "Take every inch of my cock."
Your boyfriend’s eyes shone with pride. “That’s my girl.”
Max fucked like it was the first time every time. His movements were careful and his hands were greedy; always touching you, always gathering you as close as possible to him. And while he was soft with his caresses, his desire to roughly pound his cock into your cunt, as deep as it humanely could, was another story. 
“God, you’re like a fuckin’ vice around my dick,” he choked out. “Would’ve thought you’d have loosened up by now, baby. But I can still barely move.” 
Unable to speak without screaming, you sucked his neck, bruising his skin until it turned a dark purple. 
“You markin’ me, huh? Want everybody to know who I belong to?” 
You nodded your head while whimpering, the nails of your fingers scratching against Max’s scalp. 
Max's eyes rolled back, his pupils constricting as he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips. The sound of his ragged breathing and the wet slapping of his cock against your pussy filled the air. The motion of his thrusts made his balls slap against your ass — he loved it when you got possessive. “Filthy fuckin’ girl. Don’t worry, Liefde. I’m all yours.”
Letting go of his neck with a pop, you loudly whined out, “So good— cock feels so good in me, baby. Fucking me just right.”
“Oh, I know. But you gotta turn down the volume, Liefje,” he chuckled. “Save it for the bedroom, alright?” 
You tried, you really did. But the way the head of his cock repeatedly stroked against the sensitive spongy spot of your pussy made your inhibitions blurry and you couldn’t help moaning like a whore.
Max tutted and shook his head in mock disapproval. “Guess I have to do everything for you, hm?” His lips curled up in perverse satisfaction as he shoved three of his fingers into your mouth. 
You hummed around them instantly while staring into his eyes. He made you this way; a willing body for him to toy with, a woman who was quick to fall under his command and you lived for it. You gargled around his large fingers as you jolted each time he drove his cock into you, drool dripping down from your chin and landing on your boyfriend’s lower stomach and dick. 
“Can’t even let my fingers keep you quiet, huh? Just have to make sure everyone knows how good it feels to be fucked by me.” 
You sucked on his fingers, your eyes half-lidded with desire as he began to take control. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and trailed them down your body, tracing a path from your lips to your breasts, down your stomach, and finally to the apex of your thighs.
His fingers danced around your clit, teasing you mercilessly before he slowly slid them back inside you, plunging deep to stroke that sweet spot once more. You whimpered, your body trembling with pleasure as he bit gently on your earlobe. "You're going to come for me, baby?"
His strength only turned you on more and even with the intrusion of his fingers, your noises grew louder, more unabashed. 
“Shit, you sound so pretty.” His eyes darted towards the swinging panties still attached to your ankle and he quickly removed his fingers to grab them. “Such a good girl for me, baby. But I think we need somethin’ a little more efficient to quiet my eager girl down.” 
Before you had the chance to whimper again, Max shoved your underwear into your mouth. To both of your luck, your moans became muffled enough to not draw attention. “Perfect.”
Though the volume of your sounds had been solved, the slick noises coming from your dripping cunt became the center of attention. Max groaned, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple as he fought the urge to thrust deeper. "Fuck, babe, you're so tight... so goddamn wet." He grunted, trying to maintain control.
“Mhm!” you mumbled over your makeshift gag. Your worries of being caught had long disappeared, your main focus now to revel in the building tension from your lower stomach creeping to the surface. 
The two of you were only concealed by a pathetic thin curtain that didn’t even close all the way. It left a large gap, one that should a member of the public managed to notice, would reveal Max’s bare ass and your scrunched up face, moaning in pleasure at the feel of his cock. 
Again, you were so far out of your realm to notice. Though Max did as he glanced over his shoulder and the high he got from the danger was addictive. 
Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Max discreetly reached into his jean pocket with his free hand while keeping up his momentum. He was so close to the edge, balancing on the precipice of cumming, but he strived to hold on just a little longer. 
Grabbing the loose change, he discreetly dispensed it into the money slot of the machine. “You think you’re gonna cum for me, baby?” he asked, short-windedly while his thighs trembled. 
You whined desperately around your panties, your eyes glossy from the overwhelming thread that was beginning to unravel. 
“Alright. I’m gonna count down from three and you’re gonna give it to me, yeah? Can you do that for me?” 
Thumping your head back against the wall, you closed your eyes and nodded hastily. 
“Good. Ready, Liefde?” he asked. 
Your nails scratched the back of his neck in approval and he began. 
“Three.” He pistoned his hips, fucking you with all the energy he had left in him. 
“Two.” The deep dirty grind of cock into your cunt was torturing and your thighs shook as you fought to hold out. 
“One.” On his final count, Max pinched your clit, hard. Your eyes shot wide open at the same time multiple bright flashes blanketed the photo booth and your mouth dropped on a muted scream. 
“Holy— F—Fuck!” Your boyfriend’s shout echoed across the white walls while his fist slammed next to your head. A huge load of his cum shot up into your cunt, overflowing the already full hole. 
Your mind swam in ecstasy from the adrenaline-filled haze of your orgasm. The pure rush of your sparking nerves was a familiar thing with Max and yet the sensation was so deeply gratifying every single time. 
You sucked in lungfuls of air on your comedown, letting your mouth hang open while your ruined panties dropped with a wet slap onto the floor. Shivers wracked through your body and before you could even notice the coldness, Max enveloped his warm body around you while he stroked your cheek. 
“That’s it,” he cooed soothingly while he recovered from his own intense orgasm. “Take it easy, baby.” 
You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you until there was no space between you. “That was fun,” you slurred lazily.
Max’s tired laugh rumbled through you. “Damn fuckin’ right it was.” Lifting his head out of your neck, he kissed you delicately. “You alright?” 
“I’m great,” you told him truthfully. “Though you may have to help me walk because I can’t feel my legs anymore.” 
He grinned, satisfied. “I’m that good, huh?” 
You lightly smacked his chest, even if you couldn’t contain your own cheesy smile. “Nope. I’m not inflating your ego more than it already is.” Turning your head to the screen of the booth, your eyes widened at what you saw. “No, you did not.” 
“Oh, but I did,” Max said proudly. “A little souvenir of our sexual awakening.” 
“Oh my god.” The shock of it rendered you speechless. 
“I know, right? Now you have the photos you wanted.” 
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Looking back at your boyfriend, you shook your head. “I wish I could tell you off.” 
“You can tell me I’m a bad boy later,” he suggested with a wink. “For now let's get outta here.” 
Once he gently placed you down, making sure you were steady on your feet, the two of you sorted yourselves; tidying the mess of your sex hair and straightening the wrinkles out of your clothes. Max made sure to pocket your panties from the floor, leaving no evidence of your fun. 
“Come on, you.” He lightly slapped your ass before ripping the curtain open. “We’ve still got some shopping to do.” He stepped out, whistling to himself like he hadn’t just fucked you senseless and held his hand out for you to take. 
“You want to go shopping while your cum is literally leaking down my legs as we speak?” you hissed as heat crept up your neck from the thought. 
Max leaned his shoulder against the booth and smirked. “Well, we do have to buy you some new underwear. Remember, doll?” 
You so desperately wanted to smack the self-satisfied grin off his face. 
With a huff, you exited the photo booth, begrudgingly sliding your hand into Max’s. Before you left to continue your shopping, however, he plucked the Polaroids from the outside dispenser.
Your boyfriend admired the photos, each one a debauched image of you with heavy, hooded eyes with your mouth hung open on a scream. 
“You look good on camera, baby.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “We should make a film next.” 
Trying to clench your thighs together to keep his cum from dripping down your leg, you swatted his arm. “Pfft—you wish.” 
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kinascum · 2 months
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TAG! - M. STURNIOLO
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SYNOPSIS: What happens when your brother's best friend pushes your boundaries in a thrilling encounter?
CONTENTS: nls!reader, explicit sexual content, strong language, power dynamics, degradation, chasing? primal? idk, no actual piv, oral (male), semi-public, humiliation.
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
pt2 (chris)
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You sit around the kitchen table of the cozy cabin, the glow of the moonlight spilling in through the windows, casting shadows across the well-worn Monopoly board. The laughter and banter of the evening's game slowly die down as the last few hotel properties are snatched up, and the bank is declared bankrupt. Your brother Nate, and his best friends, grin at each other, the competitive spirit still lingering in the air. It's late, and the yawns start to take over, signaling the end of the night.
The cabin's wooden floorboards creak as everyone heads to their designated sleeping areas. The fireplace crackles, casting a warm, flickering light across the room. You settle into your bed, but the excitement of the day keeps sleep at bay. The rustling of blankets and muffled snores from your brother's room reminds you that you're not the only one who remains restless.
The whispers of the night beckon you and you find yourself tiptoeing to the bedroom door. You peek into the hallway, noticing a sliver of light seeping out from under Matt's door. Curiosity piqued, you ease the door open to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, staring at the floor. "Can't sleep either?" he asks, looking up and catching your gaze.
"Yeah, it's like my brain won't shut up," you admit, stepping into the room. "Wanna go outside for some fresh air?"
Matt nods, a glint in his eye. "How about we play a game to pass the time?"
Intrigued, you follow him out into the cool night, the crunch of gravel underfoot. The moon casts a silver path down to the lake, where the water laps gently against the shore. The air is alive with the scent of pine and the distant sound of an owl's hoot.
"Okay, I'll chase you," he says with a smirk, "and if I catch you, I win."
You laugh, thinking it's just a way to burn off some energy. "What do I get if I win?"
"We'll see," he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ready or not, here I come!"
And with that, he's off, his sneakers pounding the ground as he sprints towards you. You squeal, the thrill of the chase igniting your senses. As you dart away from him, the night air feels alive with electricity, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the kind of thrill you live for, the kind that makes you feel alive.
The game starts innocently enough, the two of you weg through the trees, laughing and panting. But as the minutes tick by, the adrenaline turns into something else. Something you've felt simmering between you for a while now, something you've been too scared to acknowledge. The wind carries the scent of him, a tantalizing mix of aftershave and pure masculine energy. Your skin tingles with anticipation, and you start to feel the heat building deep within you.
Matt's breath is hot on your neck as he catches up, his strong hands grabbing you around the waist. You gasp, feeling his solid body pressed against yours, the game turning into something much more primal. You can feel the heat of his body overcome yours, and it sends a shockwave through your core. This isn't just a game anymore; it's a dance of desire that you're both eager to explore.
He whispers in your ear, his voice thick with lust, "I win."
With a firm grip, he spins you around and pushes you to your knees. You look up at him, a mix of fear and excitement swirling in your eyes. He's serious. The gravity of the moment hits you like a ton of bricks, but you don't resist. You want this. You've wanted this for a long time.
He unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking in the stillness of the night, and unzips his pants, pulling out his hard cock. "You know how this goes," he murmurs, stroking himself, watching you with a hungry gaze. "You're gonna let me use that pretty little throat?"
Your heart races as you lean in, your mouth watering despite the fear. You wrap your lips around him, and he groans, his hand tangling in your hair. He's not gentle, pushing deeper into your mouth, his grip tightening with every moan. The taste of him fills your senses, a mix of salt and earth, and you can't help but feel a twinge of excitement. This isn't how you thought this night would go, but the way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you, it's like he's claiming you, and it turns you on more than you ever thought possible.
You try to keep up, but he's too much for you. You gag, and he laughs, a dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Look at you," he says, "such a good little slut, take it." Spit trails down your chin, and your eyes water, but you don't stop. You can't. The thrill of it all is too intense.
"I bet Nate never knew what a whore you are," he murmurs, his voice low aging. "Letting me fuck your mouth out here like some cheap hooker." His words are like a slap in the face, but they only serve to make you wetter. Your eyes narrow as your brows chisel in, but you're his, and you're letting him do this to you. It's a power play, and you're both acutely aware of it.
"Oh, you're mad?" He laughs. The sound of branches underfoot in the distance makes your heart leap. "Better hurry up," he says, his eyes glinting with excitement, "or Chris might find you like this and want a taste" The thought sends a jolt of fear and arousal through you. "Oh, but you'd love that, being used by both your brother's best friends?" Your mind races. What would Nate think if he found you like this? What would Nick do? The possibility of getting caught only adds to the thrill.
Matt's hand moves to your chin, holding it in a firm grip as he fucks your mouth harder, faster. "Take it, baby," he growls, his hips bucking against your face. "You like it, huh?" You nod, unable to speak with his cock lodged in your throat, you mumble around his shaft. You do love it. The degradation, the power he has over you in this moment, it's intoxicating.
Finally, with a grunt, he pulls out, coming all over your face and chest. You collapse back onto the ground, gasping for air, your heart racing and your eyes like storms behind shed tears. He wipes his dick off your shirt, smiling down at you like he's just conquered the world. "You've always been mine, don’t get mad now," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. He leans down, his hand on your jaw suddenly pulls away and the sing on your face is accompanied by the hot spit thrown at you. "Mine to use whenever I want."
The night air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, and you can't help but feel a little bit used. But you don't care. You're his, and that's all that matters. The tension between you is palpable, the line between friendship and something darker is now irrevocably blurred. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, tasting him on your lips, and wonder if this is the start of something new.
As you both catch your breath, the sound of footsteps grows louder. Panic flares in your chest. "we have to get back." You stumble to your feet, your legs wobbly from the intense experience. Matt chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants.
Together, you sneak back towards the cabin, your heart pounding in your ears. As you enter the cabin, you see the light from Nate's room is now off. Did he hear you? Did he know what was happening outside?
You slip into your bed, your body still humming with desire, your mind racing with thoughts of what's to come. The lines between friendship and lust have been crossed, and there's no going back.
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tags! @sturnstvs @gxldenlush @immattsslut @slut4chriss @stasiesturn @jetaimevous @solarsturniolo @watercolorskyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @meowira @secretagentspy @shadowthesim @baileysturns
love, paz<3
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chiscaralight · 24 days
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nsfw gamer!perv!mean!neighbor!scara x fem reader. fingering, oral(m recieving), scara is obsessed w readers lips and eyes(you'll see), unprotected sex, idk what else but have fun kekw I'm literally writing part two of this cus I have an ideaaaaa
your back is pressed hard against the wall. the yelling from the front the side of the weak drywall is from your neighbor, scaramouche. it was normal, from what you’ve heard, he’s always playing games. and he rages. hard. the way he yells out comms to his teammates and curses them right after for fucking up is a common occurrence on your apartment floor.
to be honest, you hadn’t even seen him for the longest time. just the way his mocking, sexy tone spits at an opponent when he takes them down. you would bang on the wall a little, and he would quiet down for just a little while before yelling out again.
that was until about a month ago. it was late. you were slightly buzzed, but not enough to take you out of your senses when you crossed paths with the purple-haired man. you're fumbling with your keys, dropping them as he passes you by with a snort. you retort, telling him to stop laughing! nothing was funny, you were really struggling here! he raises his arms in mock innocence. he never said it was! stop assuming things you don’t know.
you pout. it's cute, he thinks. so when you do manage to pick your keys up after much struggle, he hums to catch your attention. he motions for you to follow him, and you do. you don't even know why, but who wouldn't follow such a pretty man if they were in your shoes?
"just sit here. maybe when your eyes and brain start working together again, you'll be able to get back into your own home."
the noise you make in retaliation has jolts of electricity traveling to his ears. it was light, high pitched. almost a whimper. he shakes his head and makes his way towards the kitchen. when he returns with a glass of water, you're passed out. scaramouche rolls his eyes and hooks his arm underneath your legs so he can lay you down. he's watching you closely, the rise and fall of your chest, the soft breaths escaping from your parted lips. those lips...but he decides to hold off on what the devil on his shoulder is telling him to do.
when he wakes up, there's a thank you note on the spot you were asleep in the night before. the cup he placed for you is empty. he picks the glass up, pressing his lips onto the mark your lipstick left on it.
after that, you became a literal thorn in his side. you always seemed to catch him whenever he was coming back from whatever he was doing. you're texting him to shut up while he's on the game, or sitting in his living room with him while he watches the stupid show you put on, just like this time.
but someone calls you. unknown number? ah! it was probably for the delivery you had. so you excuse yourself and step out of his home. five minutes pass. then ten. it's weird. not that he cares, but shouldn't you be back by now! so he goes to look. your door is cracked open just the slightest bit, so he lets himself in. it's not new, he's always showing up unannounced anyway. he's padding his way to your room and he sees you with a.. pc?
yeah! your pc! you explain to him that you've been waiting for it to come so you can start building it.
"you want to build a pc?"
he doesn't actually mean to laugh. but it's almost absurd. even he almost broke his in a fit of rage while trying to get it working. what makes you think you can do it all in one sitting? but you rebound quick. telling him to fuck off so you can get to work. he picks a nice spot on your bed, facing the desk and floorspace you choose to work with while he lays back. when you glance up, the way he's looking down at you has you writhing. like a predator studying its prey before it pounces.
maybe he was right. this wasn't easy at all! why would you even subject yourself to this? he's stifling another laugh when you groan out in frustration once again. you're practically whining his name out as you're asking for help and he chooses to ignore the twitch in his pants as he drags himself towards you. rather than joining you, he's placing himself on the desk chair and bringing what you've done up to the desk. he looks around a bit, going between the manual and the semi-built contraption before asking you to hand something over. even though you didn't get as far as you wanted, he hates that he has to admit you did a hell of a good starting job.
"you're not gonna take it apart?"
he shakes his head as he looks down to answer you. or, he was going to. but the way you're perched up on your knees, big eyes staring up at him has his voice catch in his throat. he turns back to continue working, but a thought crosses his mind.
"pass me that screwdriver over there."
it's far, so you place your hand against the cold floor and stretch over. he almost moans at the unadulterated view of your ass, tiny shorts riding up as you reach out. you hand it to him and he can't even remember what he needed it for! but he shoves it in anyway so he doesn't look like a complete idiot.
after what feels like forever, the monitor runs without an issue! the breath of relief followed by a long drawn-out thank you is all that he hears. you're still on the floor, so you lean your head against the side of your chair. but the way he purrs your name out has you craning your head up to meet his gaze.
he's looking at you with that look again, and you can't find the strength to push any words out. his lips curl up before he speaks.
"now now, you can't let me go without giving me a proper thank you, hm?"
those pretty lips of yours are wrapped tight around his cock. the grip he has on your hair is so tight, almost bruising as you drag yourself up and down his length. he doesn't hide the way he groans, eyes trained on you as yours are squeezed shut, trying so hard to take all of him.
"fuck, always knew-ah. always knew this mouth would feel so fuckin' good."
his words are practically yanking the arousal out of you as you whimper against him. he hisses at the vibration, shoving himself deeper into your throat as you tighten the grip you have on his thigh.
"look at me.."
and you're just so fucking gorgeous. your cheeks are red, lips swollen around him. your tear-filled eyes threatening to spill as he fucks into your mouth now. his eyes never leave yours. they cant. it's that cute face of yours that sends him over the edge, hips still bucking up as he tries to ride the high out for as long as possible. when he finally frees your mouth, your labored breaths bring his attention right back to you. you were the one supposed to be "thanking" him, but he couldn't leave such a pretty thing like this.
which is why you're laid up between his legs, cunt getting abused by his slender fingers while his other hand tugs at your nipples. his palm is pressed flat against your swollen clit as he pumps those two fingers in and out at a delicious pace. he's curling his fingers at all the right spots, the heel of his palm pushing down at just the right moment that has your body spasming under him. tsk. he didn't even get to fuck with you a little before you came. but it's good to know how sensitive you are to him.
he shifts out from behind you so you can lie fully down. in a second he's on top, lips harshly catching yours in a rough kiss. the way his tip pokes at your entrance has you gasping into his mouth. he quickly slides his tongue into your mouth before pushing into you.
the way he fingered you is nothing compared to the stretch of his cock. he's much thicker than you anticipated, and when he finally bottoms out, the warmth of his breath and the closeness of his body have your eyes falling shut. you can feel everything. every vein, every twitch. the way his breath hitches when you unconsciously squeeze down on him. but that won't do. not at all. his hand finds your jaw in a strong grip.
"look at me when i fuck you."
so you open your eyes. his eyes are hooded, gaze heavy as he pulls out of you slowly. but the force of the thrust has you arching off the bed. he keeps it like that, hitting you fast and hard so that the only thing you can cry out is a mess of begging him not to stop. his free hand finds your hip to raise you up slightly and that change of angles has you seeing stars. your fingers are bunching the sheets as his name falls from your lips over and over as you struggle to keep your eyes open.
your breath becomes more jagged, your hand moving to grip the wrist that was still holding your face. you're whining about how close you are. his grip tightens and raises your head up slightly to give you one instruction. cum.
and you do. it's heavy on your body, broken sobs and moans leaving you as your eyes roll back. the warmth around his cock mixed with that expression is sending him spiraling too, releasing straight into you. the last thing you remember is his lips on the side of your face before you drift off into a much-needed slumber.
part 2 here!
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ozarkthedog · 5 months
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𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧
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summary: joel secretly watches you shower.
warnings: 18+ mdni. older!joel miller x afab!reader. dubcon -> reader has no idea. reader has a bush but no other physical descriptors. male masturbation. joel is a conflicted, dirty old man but we love him so. w.c: 1.3k
author's note: the title is way too sweet for this. thank you @ghotifishreads for looking this over!
Part 2 — heavenly bound
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Joel is a bad man. 
A very, very bad man. 
Still, he couldn't think of a reason to stop as he gripped the base of his cock and began to stroke while he watched you dance like a sprite under the flowing stream.
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It was a miracle the two of you stumbled upon a YMCA this far from the city. Joel figured it'd be swarming with people or worse, but it was oddly barren aside from crawling vines and small critters living in the alcoves. 
It was even rarer that the water would still be working, but after you begged him with those big doe eyes, Joel checked it out. 
You wait anxiously on a pathway in the center of a large washroom, shifting back and forth on your feet between the shower stalls while Joel stands in one of the less scary cubicles. The room was a mess. Mud cakes the floor and walls; once pearly white tiles are now smeared with dirt. Various tiles and mirrors are splintered and broken. 
"'ere goes nothin'." Joel turns the knob, and the pipes behind the wall make a slew of thuds and loud creaking noises before a rush of water flows from the tap like a waterfall spilling over the edge of a cliff. 
"No, shit." Joel curses in shock and tests the water's temp. "S'ice cold." he hisses before stepping out of the tiny stall. 
You squeal elatedly. Uncaring about the cold, you move closer and cup your hands under the stream. You let out a soft moan at the frigid temperature. The unruly summer days were doing a number on you both.
Joel swallows hard at the sound and shifts his eyes to the floor before spying a few bars of soap a few feet away. He grabs two and tosses you one. "I don't know about you, but I'm taking a shower now," you announce, dropping your bag into the path between the stalls.
"Guess I should, too," Joel says, looking at the other, relatively clean stall across from yours. 
"You definitely should." You quip and playfully wrinkle your nose as you shuck off your shoes.
"Shut up." Joel bites back with a sly grin. He takes a few short steps and turns the shower knob. Sure enough, crystal clear water streams freely from the head.
"See ya when we're clean." you send him a smile before tugging your curtain closed. 
Joel shifts on his feet in the small space as he watches you pile your clothes on top of your bag from behind the curtain. He should keep guard and give you some privacy, but all coherent thought evaporates when he sees and hears you step under the stream.
Sunlight pours down into your stall from a window above, creating a tempting silhouette as you shimmy in the water and let loose an unrestrained moan. The sweet sound echoes off the washroom walls and slithers into Joel's brain. It races down his spinal column, and reaches home in his groin. His cock fills with blood instantly, forcing him to bite his cheek and mute his own moan.
"Ah, what the hell," he mumbles, setting his pack next to yours and closing the curtain to his stall. He's out of his clothes quicker than he remembers moving, chucking them carelessly on the other side of the curtain. His cock stands hard and raging, but he ignores it, choosing to step under the freezing stream with the hope it'll curb his arousal. 
"Fuck." Joel groans when the cold rains down on his sweltering body.  
"Told you." he hears you tease.
Joel shakes his head with a smile. It was by chance that your paths crossed. He wasn't looking for anyone to share in this new way of life, especially after Tommy left, but as luck would have it, you stumbled into his world at the right time, and now he's not quite sure he wants to live without you in it.  
He'd kept his distance over the last few months. He was too old to get caught up in sappy feelings and didn't need the distraction when life was on the line. However, that raw, gnawing need never went away. It took him a while to relax and feel secure enough to get off, but when he did, he was able to let go and succumb to the urges he remembered enjoying so much before the outbreak. 
He scrubs his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, across his broad, hairy chest, expelling dirt and grime from his skin as it swirls down the drain. His erection still hasn't faded; if anything, it's even harder now as your airy singing fills the room. 
He teethes his bottom lip as he succumbs to the urge once more and curls a soapy hand around his twitching length, circling the girthy base with a tight grip. Blood pulses in the crown— a desert sunset red, throbbing and weeping.
Joel knows it's wrong, but he's past the point of caring. With his left hand, he eases the curtain to catch another glimpse of your inviting silhouette but gets more than he imagined.
A breeze from the open window above your stall must have pushed the curtain open without you realizing. It was no bigger than a small gap, but it exposed enough of your body to Joel's prying eyes.
His jaw clenches tight as his deviant gaze travels along the wet, soapy expanse of your body. Water drips from your hairline, over your clavicle, between your breasts, and trickles down your soft belly. A mess of droplets and soapy suds cling to the patch of curls that covers your mound. Joel's cock throbs at the sight of your bush; he always loved the taste of a sweaty, hairy pussy.
You wash yourself, utterly unaware of his stare. The knot in Joel's abdomen twists, an unyielding cramp cinching ever tighter. He swirls his large, slick palm over his drooling tip, expertly moving with the right touch, trying his quickest to get off before the floor opens up and swallows him whole.
His sac tightens, drawing up as an intense wave burns through his gut. He watches with shameless infatuation as you run your soapy hands around your breasts and between your legs before rinsing away the filth. He roughly thrusts into his grip, imagining it's your cunt as it hugs and swirls around him while he greedily fucks into your warmth. He wants nothing more than to feel you under him, writhing from his illicit and soothing touch. 
His spine curves as he hunches over and leans one hand on the wall for support as he comes with a mess of deep, broken grunts. Fingers scratch the tile, body quivering with searing pleasure as thick white ropes splash against the dingy tile; he pictures you gasping for him while he fills you to the brim.
Shame creeps in, swarming hot and fast like the midday sun after a summer rainstorm. He yanks his hand from his cock like he's been burnt when you suddenly appear on the other side of the curtain.
"Are you almost done?" your voice cutting through the white noise of the shower stream. Joel peers around the side of the curtain, eyes piercing yet sorrowful. "Yeah, gimme a minute."
For now, Joel shakes off his shame. He cleans himself up and haphazardly splashes the wall with water, washing away any evidence of his perverted seclusion.
"Here," he hears you say as you hand him his clothes. He opens the curtain a bit and notices your eyes are cast downward. Joel instantly feels the sharp fangs of regret sink into his flesh; you must've heard him. 
"Thanks," Joel mutters. His fingers brush yours as he grabs his clothes, making your big eyes snap to his before they curiously travel down over his bouldering, sun-kissed shoulders. He watches your jaw drop with a silent gasp, and your knees slightly buckle at the dewy sight of him.
"Be right out," he smirks when you forget to let go of his clothes, forcing you to mumble a mortified apology before he closes the curtain.
Maybe he was wrong.
Maybe he's not as bad as he thinks, and just maybe he might have a chance with you.
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feel free to scream at me -> 💌
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prokopetz · 6 months
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In recent posts I've complained that a lot of tabletop RPGs which toss around the term "fiction first" don't actually understand what it means, and I've been asked to expand on that complaint. So:
In my experience, there are two ways that game texts which want to position themselves as "fiction first" trip themselves up, one obvious and one subtle.
The first and more obvious pitfall is treating "fiction first" as an abstract ideology. They're using "fiction first" as a synonym for "story over rules" in a way that calls back to the role-playing-versus-roll-playing discourse of the early 2000s. The trouble is, now as then, nobody can usefully explain what "story over rules" actually entails. At best, they land on a definition of "fiction first" that talks about the GM's right to ignore the rules to better serve the story, which is no kind of definition at all – it's just putting a funny hat on the Rule Zero fallacy and trying to pass it off as some sort of totalising ideology of play.
A more useful way of defining "fiction first" play is to think of it not in terms of whether you engage with the rules at all, but in terms of when they're invoked: specifically, as a question of order of operations.
Suppose, for example, that you're playing Dungeons & Dragons, and you pick up the dice and say "I attack the dragon". Some critics would claim that no actual narrative has been established – that this is simply a bare invocation of game mechanics – but in fact we can infer a great deal: your character is going to approach the dragon, navigating any inclement terrain which lies between them, and attempt to kill the dragon using the weapon they're holding in their hand. The rules are so tightly bound to a particular set of narrative circumstances that simply invoking those rules lets us work backwards to determine what the context and stakes must be for that invocation of the rules to be sensical; this, broadly speaking, is what "rules first" looks like.
Conversely, let's say that your game of Dungeons & Dragons has confronted you with a pit blocking your path, and you want to make an Athletics check to cross it. At this point the GM is probably going to stop you and say, hold up, tell us what that looks like. Are you trying to jump across it? Are you trying to climb down one wall of the pit and up the other? Are you trying to tie a rope to the halfling and toss them to the other side? In other words, before you can pick up the dice, you need to have a little sidebar with the GM to hash out what the narrative context is, and to negotiate what can be achieved and what's at stake if you mess it up; this, broadly, is what "fiction first" looks like.
At this point I know some people are thinking "wait, hold on – both of those examples were from Dungeons & Dragons; are you saying that Dungeons & Dragons is both a rules-first game and a fiction-first game?" And yeah, I am. That's the second, more subtle place where game texts that talk about "fiction first" go astray: they talk about it as though being "fiction first" or "rules first" is something which is inherent to game systems as a whole.
This is not in fact true: being "fiction first" or "rules first" is something which describes particular invocations of the rules. In practice, only very simple games spend all of their time in one mode or the other; most will switch back and forth at need. Generally, most "traditional" RPGs (i.e., the direct descendants of Dungeons & Dragons and its various imitators) tend to operate in rules-first mode in combat and fiction-first mode out of it, though this is a simplification – when and how such mode-switching occurs can be quite complex.
Like any other design pattern, "fiction first" mechanics are a tool that's well suited for some jobs, and ill suited for others. Sometimes your rules are fine-grained enough that having an explicit negotiation and stakes-setting phase would just be adding extra steps. Sometimes you're using the outputs of the rules a narrative prompt, and having to pin the context down ahead of time would defeat the purpose. Fortunately, you don't have to commit yourself to one approach or the other; as long as your text is clear about how you're assuming a given set of rules toys will be used, you can switch modes as need dictates. However, you're not going to be capable of that kind of transparency if you're thinking in terms of "this a Fiction First™ game".
(Incidentally, this is why it can be hard to talk about "fiction first" with OSR fans if you're being dogmatic about fiction-first framing being an immutable feature of particular games. Since traditional RPGs tend to observe the above-described rules-first-in-combat, fiction-first-out-of-combat division, and OSR games tend to treat actually getting into a fight as a strategic failure state, a lot of OSR games spend most of their time in fiction-first mode. If you go up to an OSR fan and insist that D&D-style games can never be fiction-first, then attempt to define "fiction first" for them and proceed to describe how they usually play, they'll quite justifiably conclude that you have your head up your ass!)
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rottiens · 4 months
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WHISPERS OF RECONCILIATION ┊S. GOJŌ
✮ word count: 1.8k
✮ summary. your husband is less and less at home due to missions he can't turn down, so every time he comes back, you feel him more distant.
✮ tags. . husband gojō x afab reader, they have a daughter, marital problems, angst to fluff, canon au, the struggle of being a first time mom. divider creds: cafekitsune.
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You turn on the faucet, releasing the stream of water as you hear the front door open.
The noise doesn't scare you or stop you from your task since you know it's him. As you cover the sponge with the fun bubbles from the dishwashing gel, you hear his footsteps like a muffled distant noise, in the passage from the main entrance to where you are, his presence looms like lightning warning of a storm. All the lights are off except for the one in the kitchen which makes gojo trace his path directly towards you.
It doesn't take long for his arms to wrap around your waist from behind. You don't flinch, unlike when you did at the beginning of the relationship.
"What?" Gojo laughs at the line of your neck, it's a snort that denotes weariness. He smells of beer, far beneath that are traces of the perfume he had soaked himself in this morning when he left the house. "No reaction now?" Gojo breathes your skin, you smell of sweat and dirty clothes and the kisses he leaves on your neck make your stomach clench.
You do your best to pretend that his touch doesn't set your skin on fire, that his long fingers slipping under your nightgown have no effect on you.
The grip on the innocent plate tightens, a little, then tighter. Gojo keeps breathing into the shell of your ear, just behind the cartilage where he manages to bristle your skin until you can pretend no more and set the plate aside causing a clatter in the puddle of water, your fingers form fists under the warm spray of the faucet.
"Stop." It's not a command but a gentle request, you press your lips together and gojo stops right away.
"Are we still fighting?" Gojo sounds like a puppy you just kicked to the curb and yet he doesn't insist, pulls his hands off your body and takes a step back, you almost instantly regret it.
"Yes," you reply after a while, to a question he forgot he asked.
You hear him sigh heavily, then you feel him grab you by the waist and with your help you allow him to turn around until you are facing him. You refuse to look at him however after a while you give in, his tousled hair falls like snowflakes across his forehead, his eyes are naked, blue and alert staring at you. On top of his uniform he had a denim jacket on, you're sure it didn't cover him much from the winter cold and that probably geto lent it to him when they went out drinking because your gojo always forgot his coats.
You imagine him going reluctantly, just not to say no to his best friend, because your gojo hates the taste of alcohol as much as you do.
Gojo doesn't move, he lets his hand seek yours without detaching from your eyes. His fingers are icy cold and you shiver at the sudden touch, suddenly Gojo is taking your hand into his mouth. His lips rest on the back of your wet hand, droplets of water manage to reach the floor and his shoes and you let him do it because the scene is too commniveddorative to damage the moment.
His mouth murmurs a sorry for each kiss he deposits. Immediately your damp skin releases him from the cold of the street and when he kisses you a fourth time, you can feel them grow warmer. Gojo suddenly stops from the task and looks up at you from his position raising his eyebrows, your hand still close to your mouth, so close that his next words brush your skin. "I don't like it when we fight."
You don't like it either. But you had no choice but to stop talking and frown as you gave him a killing look when he told you he couldn't say no to a mission. What did he mean by that? you wondered. His daughter was three months old and all he did was miss her first babbles, not being home when you needed him, barely changing her diapers and barely feeding her.
Your feet are killing you, your muscles looked like they had been bitten by a giant monster and the circles under your eyes were getting darker with each passing day.
"You're frowning." When gojo speaks again, you notice that his back is straight now.
Slowly you move away from his touch and your arm returns to you, dangling beside your body.
"I don't want to talk about it."
You get ready to turn around to focus on washing the dishes, including his because his dinner got cold in the dining room, next to yours, while you were feeding your little girl, however gojo interrupts you by returning to make prey to your hips with his hands and thus sticking you a second time to his body. 
"Leave it. I'll do it." 
Your lungs fill and soon empty with another exhalation. And before gojo can respond to anything else you were already leaving the room.
You were tired, you could feel it in the way your bare feet dragged the floor beneath them, swollen and full of calluses. Gojo watches you as you turn the corner and lose yourself in the hallway with a dark aura surrounding your whole figure and your shoulders being pulled by the force of the floor.
Gojo returns to the dishes in front of him. Only his, a glass and a pair of forks remained, which he washed without haste.
The silence of the kitchen serves as an executioner that punishes him along with his thoughts for his actions. Gojo thinks about the day, thinks about his girl and thinks about you and how unfair it must be for you to have given up these months of being a sorceress who risked her life every day to be a full-time mother while the drab and boring walls loom over you.
His footsteps are long and silent, Gojo crosses the hallway where he can hear water spurting from part of the guest bathroom. He thinks about stopping at the door and asking you if you need anything else, however he leaves you this moment alone and heads towards the baby's room. Gojo pushes the door causing a rustic scream from the wood, in the background there is an acoustic melody playing and a bluish night light carrying in them figures of stars and moons swaying on the walls of the room. Gojo had bought it especially for her, it was the first gift he bought when you told him you were pregnant. The memory makes him smile, nostalgic.
Gojo restrains himself from stretching his arms and pulling her to his chest. So he just bends his back until his spine complains and deposits a soft kiss on her forehead that his girl never feels, since he activates his technique in time to not touch her and prevent her from waking up.
Just as he came in, he left. He no longer hears you in the hallway, there is no more water dripping from the shower, yet there are wet footsteps going towards the shared room that give away that you were done.
Gojo slips into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and contemplates himself in the mirror for a moment, still the same as always, with a couple of black spots under his eyes and the occasional irritated red vein in the infinite sea of his blue eyes. He fills his lungs with your scent, the liquid gel of vanilla flowers bounces inside the four walls of the bathroom, he drops his eyelids and buries his fingers in the ceramic of the sink.
Gojo takes off his jacket and lays it on the floor, then discards the rest of his clothes. His fingers curl around the faucet and he lets the hot water wash away the traces of the day from him as he relives over and over again the arguments you’ve had these past months. 
The soap scrubs away the weariness of the day along with his dreary thoughts, these run down the drain along with the dirty suds that the water bathes off his body.
Once he is done, he wraps a towel around his hips. He turns off the rest of the lights and goes to bed.
You are on your side of the mattress with your back to the door, everything is dark except for the moonbeams that manage to enter through the crack that the curtains cannot protect. He closes the door with a soft sound and turns to you, leaving the towel hanging behind the door, gojo climbs into bed with his body and soul naked.
He knows you're not sleeping. It takes him a moment to find his voice, lost in the spots on the ceiling, he searches for the right word he should use instead of "I'm sorry."
"I," he clears his throat, one finger tapping his own rib. "I'm not going to school tomorrow."
At first gojo thinks you are sleeping, you say nothing and your breathing is slow and steady.
"And?" That's all you say, encouraging him to keep talking.
"I will tell Yaga that I need a couple of weeks off, I want to have these days together with my wife and daughter."
You don't answer again, you let your body do the talking. You push further into him, your ass collides with his side and he laughs softly, improving his posture to better embrace you from behind. His arms immediately cling to your waist in a possessive manner, drawing you to his chest where you feel his ragged breathing.
"I'm still upset," you finally say, feeling him smile against your ear as he squeezes your body tighter. "But I guess that's a start."
"You have worked so hard these days and I am sorry to leave you alone, I promise I will make it up to you, there is no justification in having left you alone these weeks." You force your lip between your teeth to keep from giving him the pleasure of making you smile. "I'm going to start with cooking tomorrow."
You laugh instantly, gojo pulls you further into his body, threatening to tickle you and you raise your hands in submission.
"You cooking sounds very tasty, satoru. It's just..."
"Hm?" 
"It's just that you haven't done it in a while." Then you add, "It's been a while since you've been home."
Gojo merely kisses your bare shoulder and plays with the skin on your abdomen.
"I'm sorry," he says, after a while. You nod looking at his hands, looking at how pretty the engagement ring looks on them. "I love you so much, I love our daughter, I love what we have. I don't want to ruin that."
You bring his hands to your mouth, your stomach swelling with tension, your gut roiling as you bring them close enough to kiss his knuckles and then assure a barely audible, "I love you too. Let's talk about it tomorrow, shall we?”
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