#after the first time void just stops doing this with him

[eu-nicola]

her memory

summary: After Grace's death, you offer to take care of Charlie, Thomas, who lives tormented by his pain, accepts. As both spend more time together, both begin to develop something but neither you or him don't know how to accept it.

warnings: mention of death, nothing more i think

word counter: 7682

author's note: english is not my first language

The cold wind cut through the morning with a cruel indifference, as if the world kept turning without stopping for anyone's mourning. The tombstones stood as silent reminders of lives past, names etched in stone, stories that had ended. Among them all, one stood out: Grace Shelby. The letters were carved with precision, the name reflecting both love and tragedy.

You, Grace's younger sister, held a bouquet of white lilies with numb fingers. You had chosen those flowers because they were Grace's favorite, although now the detail seemed ironic. You couldn't remember the last time you had brought her flowers when she was alive. Maybe you had never done so. Guilt nibbled at the edges of your conscience as you walked down the gravel path.

In the distance, a familiar figure emerged from the mist: Thomas. He was dressed in strict black, his face impassive as always. His eyes, though, those blue eyes that always seemed to be calculating, now reflected something deeper. Pain. Or maybe just tiredness.

You hadn’t spoken to Thomas since Grace’s funeral, and before that, your interactions had been tense, at best. You’d made it clear from the start that you didn’t trust him. “He’s not a good man for you, Grace,” you’d warned him more than once, but Grace always found a way to justify it. “You don’t know him like I do,” she’d reply with a smile that was now just a painful memory.

Thomas stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing by the grave. There were no words of greeting or gestures of courtesy. Neither did they need them. You were both there for the same reason.

You carefully placed the flowers on the grave and knelt down, closing your eyes for a moment. The silence between you and Thomas was thick, heavy with everything that had never been said and everything that would never be said. Finally, you stood up, feeling Thomas’ gaze on you.

“She always talked about you,” Thomas said, his voice low and rough, like he hadn’t used it in days.

You looked at him, surprised by the comment. There was an honesty in his tone that was disarming, something rare about him.

“And what did she say?” you asked, not because you really wanted to know, but because you needed to fill the void.

Thomas lit a cigarette, letting the smoke mix with the cold air. His eyes never left the tombstone.

“She said you were strong. Stronger than you believed yourself. That you had always been her rock, even when you didn’t know it.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “And that you were the only one who could tell her the truth, even if it hurt.”

You felt a lump in your throat. Grace had always been the mediator between you and the world, softening your harshest words, interpreting your silences. Now that she was gone, you felt disoriented, like you’d lost your compass.

“I always thought I was protecting her,” you admitted quietly, your gaze fixed on the grave. “But maybe I was just trying to protect myself. I didn’t want to see her suffer for someone who couldn’t give her what she deserved.”

Thomas didn’t answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice held a tone you’d never heard before: vulnerability.

“Grace gave me more than I deserved. And I gave her back less than I needed.” He stubbed out his cigarette in the dirt and looked up at you. “But I loved her. In my own way, I loved her.”

His words fell heavily in the air. For a moment, you wanted to respond as harshly as ever, to point out that his love hadn’t been enough, that his world of violence and power had dragged her to the grave. But something stopped you. Maybe it was the pain you saw reflected in his face. Or maybe you were just tired of fighting.

“Grace loved you too,” you said at last, almost in a whisper. “I never doubted that.”

Silence settled between you again. Thomas nodded slightly, as if that statement were enough. You both knew that the relationship between you and him would never be cordial, but at that moment, you shared something that transcended your differences: the loss of the woman who had been the center of your lives.

Finally, Thomas took a step back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“I’ll always be here if you need me,” he said, not looking directly at you. Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and began walking toward the exit of the cemetery.

You watched his figure walk away until it disappeared into the fog. The fog slowly dissipated as you walked away, leaving the tombstone and the memories behind.

After that encounter, you knew that you didn’t want to part with what little was left of Grace. The decision didn’t come immediately, but rather as a persistent murmur in the back of your mind. The image of Grace, always smiling with her baby in her arms, was etched ever deeper into your memory. Charlie was the only part of her left in this world, a small piece of light in the midst of all the darkness her death had left. And you wanted, no, needed, to be a part of her life.

Days later, you found yourself in front of the door of the Shelby house. You hesitated for a moment, looking at the imposing facade. You hadn’t set foot in that place since Grace’s funeral. You sighed deeply and knocked on the door. It was Polly who opened it, her sharp gaze examining you immediately.

“What are you doing here?” she asked bluntly, her tone neither hostile nor friendly, just expectant.

“I need to talk to Thomas,” you said, straightening up.

Polly arched an eyebrow, but didn’t ask any more questions. She waved you in and led you to the living room, where Thomas sat behind his desk, papers strewn in front of him, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

He looked up as you entered, his expression unfazed.

“Another telling off, then?” she asked sarcastically, though there was a hint of curiosity in her tone.

You shook your head, gently shaking your head as you sat across from him.

“I’m not here to fight, Thomas. I’m here for Charlie.”

He set the glass down on the table, his gaze fixed on you.

“What about Charlie?”

You took a moment before answering, your hands clenched in your lap.

“I want to help. I want to be in his life. I know this may sound strange, but I would like to be his nanny.” You hesitated for a second, but continued before he could interrupt. “I want to be close to him, to help raise him. I don’t want him to grow up without having a connection to his maternal family.”

Thomas watched you silently for a few moments. His face was a mask of calm, but his eyes betrayed that he was processing each word carefully.

“Why now?” he asked finally. “You don’t trust me, you never have. Why would you want to get more involved?”

You leaned forward a little, trying to convey the sincerity of your intentions.

“Grace loved Charlie more than anything. And if I can’t have her, I at least want to make sure her son grows up surrounded by love, by family. This isn’t about you, Thomas. This is about him.” You paused, letting your words sink in. “And because Grace would want us to be there for him.” Both of you.

Thomas leaned back in his chair, bringing his hands to his face for a moment before running them through his hair. Finally, he nodded slowly.

“Fine. If that’s what you want, you can start tomorrow. Polly will show you Charlie’s routines. But I warn you,” he said, his voice lower and more serious, “this world is dangerous. I don’t want you to go near it if you ever think you can’t handle it.”

You agreed with a slight nod, knowing there was no turning back.

The next morning, Polly greeted you with a mix of surprise and silent approval. She wasn’t a woman of many words, but she seemed to appreciate your willingness.

“Charlie is a calm boy, but he needs stability,” she said as she led you to the little boy’s room. “His mother was his refuge, and now it’s up to you to fill some of that void.”

When you entered Charlie’s room, your heart tightened. The boy, who couldn’t have been more than two years old, was sitting in his crib, playing with a teddy bear. His eyes were the spitting image of Grace: big, curious, and bright. Seeing you, he tilted his head in curiosity.

You slowly approached, smiling.

“Hey, little one,” you said quietly, feeling excitement fill your chest.

Charlie watched you for a moment before extending his arms to you, an immediate sign of trust that nearly brought tears to your eyes. You picked him up carefully, feeling his warmth against you. He rested his small head on your shoulder, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

The rest of the day passed in unexpected calm. You fed him, played with him, and took him for a walk in the garden. As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice that Charlie seemed more relaxed with you than you had anticipated. It was as if, somehow, he knew you were a part of his mother, a connection he still needed.

The passage of time hadn’t eased the void left by Grace, but caring for Charlie filled your days with a kind of purpose you’d never felt before. The little boy had a laugh that lit up even the gloomiest of rooms, and his small hands reached for yours with a trust that melted you. With each day you spent with him, you felt like you were helping keep a part of Grace alive.

Charlie followed you everywhere, whether it was in the garden, where he clung to your wobbly fingers as he tried to walk, or in the kitchen, where he babbled incomprehensible words as you prepared his food. What touched you most was the way he clung to you at night, his small hands tangled in your shirt as you rocked him to sleep.

You were aware that every smile you elicited from him was a silent defiance of the pain his mother’s death had left behind. Though you tried hard to stay strong, there were times when Grace’s absence was too much. On those nights, when Charlie finally fell asleep, you stayed by his side a little longer, whispering stories about his mother to him, wishing that, somehow, he could remember her.

One of those nights, after putting Charlie to bed, you went down to the kitchen in search of something warm to drink. The house was silent, save for the occasional creak of wood beneath your feet. The air was cold, and the light from the fireplace in the living room barely illuminated the hallway.

That was when you saw him. Thomas was sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table beside him. His eyes, normally sharp and watchful, were darkened by a deep sadness. His face, always controlled, now seemed vulnerable, almost unfamiliar.

For a moment, you hesitated. You had seen Thomas in many facets: calculating, furious, even protective. But never like this, broken.

“Thomas, are you okay?” you asked quietly, though the answer was obvious.

He looked up slowly, his blue eyes piercing through you, filled with a pain that seemed to have no end. He didn’t answer right away, instead taking another long sip from the bottle before setting it down on the table with a thud.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” he finally said, his voice hoarse.

You approached cautiously, sitting down on the armchair in front of him. The distance between you both seemed so short and, at the same time, infinite.

“I was thinking about Grace,” you murmured, trying to connect.

Thomas gave a bitter smile, but his eyes didn’t light up.

“There’s not a single moment when I don’t see her. Every corner of this damn house reminds me of her.”

The silence that followed was thick. You felt like any words you could say would be insufficient, but you couldn't just leave him in that state.

“Grace would never want to see you like this, Thomas,” you said softly. “She always saw the best in you, even when you didn’t.”

He let out a dry, humorless laugh.

“Grace was always better than I deserved. I brought her into this world, into danger, and it killed her.” His words came out laden with guilt. “Everything I touch breaks.”

You leaned forward, meeting his eyes.

“Grace chose to be with you. She knew who you were and what your world meant, but she still loved you. You can’t carry all the blame, Thomas.”

For the first time, Thomas seemed to truly hear you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you both shared a pain only you could understand. He let out a heavy sigh, as if he’d been carrying too great a weight for years.

“Charlie gives me a reason to keep going,” he admitted quietly. “But I can’t help but think of everything he lost. What I took from him.”

The pain in his voice tore at you. Without thinking, you stood up and walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not alone in this, Thomas. Charlie has a lot of people who love him. And so do you.” You paused, measuring your words. “I’m here.”

Thomas lifted his head, surprised by the openness in your voice.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his whisper barely audible.

You stayed by his side as the night wore on, both of you silent, but this time it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was the kind of stillness that comes from sharing a common pain.

The days in the Shelby house followed a steady, almost predictable rhythm. The mornings were Charlie's: from the first light of day, the little boy filled the house with his laughter and babbling, and you were there for each of those moments. But the nights... the nights were different.

Since that first time you found Thomas broken in front of the fireplace, something had changed between the two of you. They didn't always talk, but the presence of each other was enough. So, every night after putting Charlie to bed, your steps inevitably led you to the living room, where Thomas waited for you, his silhouette illuminated by the flames of the fire.

The first few nights were a timid exchange of words. Thomas offered you a glass of whiskey, which you accepted although you barely touched it, and the two of you sat in silence, watching the flames dance. Every now and then, he shared fragments of memories about Grace, little anecdotes that made you smile or sometimes let out a stifled laugh.

“Grace always made fun of my smoking,” he commented one night, with a slight smile. “She said I looked like a cheap actor trying to look sophisticated.”

You laughed softly, imagining your sister with her sharp wit and love of little jokes.

“That sounds like Grace,” you said, your voice heavy with nostalgia.

Over time, conversations became more fluid, less restrained. You shared memories of your childhood with Grace, little secrets that only the two of you knew. Thomas listened intently, his eyes softening with each story, as if through your words he could feel his wife’s presence again.

“You know?” you said, staring into the fire. “I always thought you were Grace’s worst mistake.”

Thomas, who had been staring at his glass of whiskey, looked up slowly, one eyebrow arched.

“And now?” he asked, his tone neutral, but his eyes heavy with curiosity.

You sighed, playing with the rim of your glass.

“Now… I’m not so sure.” You looked at him, your words softer than you’d planned. “Grace was happy with you. And that’s what matters, isn’t it?”

Thomas didn’t answer right away. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched you closely.

“I’m not a good man,” he finally said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “I never have been. But with Grace… she made me want to be better.”

You nodded slowly, understanding the weight of his words.

“We all have our shadows, Thomas. But I’ve seen how you are with Charlie, how you talk about Grace. Maybe you’re not as bad as I always thought.”

He let out a dry laugh, but there was a glint of something else in his eyes, something that seemed like a mix of relief and gratitude.

“That’s the closest thing to a compliment I’ve heard from you,” he said, his tone mocking, though his smile was genuine.

“Don’t get used to it,” you replied, smiling back.

With each passing night, the relationship between the two of you transformed. The conversations became deeper, more sincere. Thomas showed you a side that few knew about: the man behind the boss, the husband, the father struggling to find balance in a world full of chaos.

One night, after a long silence, Thomas confessed something that surprised you.

“I didn’t think you could forgive me,” he said, his words laden with a weight he seemed to have been carrying for a long time. “Not after everything.”

You stared at him, sensing the sincerity in his voice.

“It’s not easy to forgive, Thomas. But I also know that life is too short to hold on to hate.”

For a moment, you thought you were going to see tears in his eyes, but Thomas just nodded, clenching his jaw as he looked away.

Even if everything was fine between you and Thomas, there was always something off. The next day, the sun was shining softly that afternoon, and a light breeze rustled the leaves, making everything seem almost calm, almost normal.

Charlie was swinging happily in a baby swing that Thomas had had installed months ago. You stood nearby, watching him with a smile as you gently pushed the swing, making sure it wasn’t too high.

Charlie giggled, and when the swing stopped, he raised his arms to you, asking to be pulled out. You picked him up easily, holding him against your hip as he wrapped his arms around your neck. He looked at you with those big, bright eyes that reminded you so much of Grace, and something in your chest tightened.

“I love you, little one,” you murmured, gently kissing his forehead.

The little boy stared at you for a moment, then rested his little head on your shoulder and, in a barely audible voice, whispered,

“Mommy.”

The world seemed to stop. The air became thick, and for an instant, you couldn’t move or breathe. Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of that word fell upon you. You didn’t know what to say. Charlie didn’t fully understand what he had just said, but to you, the meaning was overwhelming.

Before you could react, a deep, sharp voice broke the silence.

“What did you say?”

You turned around suddenly and saw Thomas standing a few feet away. His face was tense, his eyes dark and filled with a mix of surprise and suppressed fury. He had returned earlier than expected and had clearly heard his son’s words.

—Thomas… —you started to say, trying to calm him down.

—Why is he calling you "Mom"? —he interrupted, his voice low but full of intensity.

Charlie, oblivious to the tension, clung to you with an innocent smile, his small hands playing with your hair. The image must have been a shock to Thomas, a painful reminder of what he’d lost.

“He’s just a kid, Thomas,” you said calmly, setting Charlie down so he could play again. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying. I would never try to take Grace’s place.”

Thomas took a step forward, his posture rigid.

“But you are,” he said, his voice raspy. “You’re looking out for him, you’re comforting him, and now he thinks you—” He paused, as if the words were too painful to say out loud.

“I’m here because I wanted Charlie to have someone to look out for him, to love him. I’m not trying to replace Grace, Thomas. I never could,” you replied, trying to keep your composure.

“Oh, yeah?” he snapped, his tone bitter. “And what do you think is going to happen if you keep this up?” He’ll see you as his mother.

His words were like blades, and you felt a lump in your throat, but you weren’t going to back down.

“That’s not fair!” you exclaimed, raising your voice. “I’ve done everything you asked of me, Thomas. I’ve been here, taking care of Charlie, helping you keep this home standing. And now you’re blaming me for something I can’t even control?”

Thomas clenched his fists, his eyes burning with frustration.

“You don’t understand. This isn’t your place. You’re not his mother. You never will be.”

The words were like a blow, but you refused to let them affect you any more than necessary.

“You’re right, Thomas,” you said, your voice cold. “I’m not his mother. But at least I’m here for him. And you? Where are you when he needs you? Or do you prefer to hide behind your whiskey and your business, letting others deal with the pain?”

Thomas took a step closer, his face now just inches from yours.

“Be careful what you say.”

“Why?” you replied, challenging him with your gaze. “Because you don’t like hearing the truth?”

The silence that followed was sharp, both of you breathing heavily, the tension between you almost tangible. Finally, Thomas took a step back, his face hardening.

“If you can’t understand your place here, then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

Those words were a final blow. You nodded slowly, your expression cold but hurt.

“Understood.”

Without saying anything else, you turned and walked into the house, leaving Thomas alone in the garden. You felt a mix of rage and sadness as you climbed the stairs to your room. Everything you had done, all the effort, seemed to have been in vain. You leaned against the closed door, trying to control the tears that threatened to spill out.

The days that followed that tense confrontation with Thomas were tinged with an awkward silence in the house. The air seemed heavier, as if the very walls held back unspoken words and hurt feelings. But the most noticeable change was in Charlie.

The little boy, who used to be an endless source of laughter and energy, now seemed to be caught in a cloud of restlessness. His demeanor changed dramatically; laughter had been replaced by sobs, and his usual enthusiasm for play had given way to an irritable, brooding attitude. Every little inconvenience, from a toy that didn't work the way he wanted it to the lack of his favorite snack, made him burst into tears.

It hurt to see him like this, but the worst thing was that you knew why. Charlie missed the closest thing he'd had to a mother in the last few months. And even though you'd tried to keep your distance after the argument with Thomas, you couldn't help but worry about the boy.

That afternoon, Charlie was sitting on the living room floor, tightly hugging a teddy bear that Grace had given him. Tears ran down his cheeks as he murmured between sobs:

"Mom..."

You knelt beside him, feeling a lump in your throat.

"I know, honey," you said softly, stroking his hair. "I know you miss her."

Charlie turned to you, his little eyes full of desperation.

"Mom," he said.

It was like a dagger straight to the heart. Your instinct was to hug him, but you stopped, remembering Thomas' words.

“Oh, little Charlie,” you said finally, your voice breaking.

The little boy didn’t understand, and you knew it. To him, absence was a void that was impossible to fill. His sobs increased, and in the end, you couldn’t hold back any longer. You lifted him into your arms, holding him tightly as he cried against your chest.

“I’m here now,” you murmured, trying to calm him down. “I’m not leaving, okay?”

At that moment, the door opened, and Thomas entered the room. His gaze hardened as he took in the scene before him: you holding Charlie, trying to comfort him like a mother would.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice cold.

Charlie turned to his father, his little face still wet with tears.

“Dad… Mom.”

Thomas tensed his jaw, his gaze darkening even further. He took a step toward you, his eyes fixed on you.

The boy clung to you, but was eventually led to his room by a maid. Once he was out of the room, Thomas turned to you.

“What part of ‘you can’t be his mother’ didn’t you understand?” he said, his voice low but filled with contained anger.

You stood up, crossing your arms.

“Thomas, don’t you see what’s happening? Charlie is hurting. He misses his mother, and for now, I’m the closest thing he has. Why can’t you just accept it?”

Thomas laughed, but there was no humor in his voice.

“Accept it? You want me to accept my son starting to call you mom while Grace is in her grave? Is that what you want?”

“No, what I want is for you to stop being so selfish,” you replied, raising your voice. “This isn’t about you, Thomas. It’s about Charles. He needs someone, and you can’t be everything to him.”

Thomas took a step closer, his presence imposing.

“You don’t decide what my son needs. I’m his father.”

“And I’m the only person who’s been here for him while you drown in your own pain,” you said, not backing down. “But it’s okay, Thomas. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave. But when Charlie keeps crying at night, when he asks you why I left him, you’ll be the one responsible.”

Thomas didn’t answer right away. His gaze was hard, but there was something else going on, too: an internal struggle, a battle between his pride and the reality that was hitting him harder and harder.

Finally, he took a step back, breaking eye contact.

“Do what you want,” he murmured, before exiting the room and leaving you alone.

The next few days were marked by an awkward silence between you and Thomas. Even though he had made it clear that he didn’t want you anywhere near Charlie, you couldn’t just walk away. Not when the little boy needed you more than ever. So, defying Thomas’ orders, you continued to look after the boy. After all, someone had to do it.

That night, the Shelby house was unusually quiet. Charlie had had a long day and was restless, his small body still shaking from time to time from residual sobs. You held him in your arms, gently rocking him as you walked around the room, whispering soothing words to him. Eventually, his eyes began to close, and his breathing became more rhythmic.

The house was empty. Thomas had gone out, as he often did lately, immersing himself in his business and affairs. Everything seemed calm, but there was an uneasiness in the air that you couldn’t shake.

Suddenly, a noise downstairs broke the silence. At first you thought maybe Thomas had returned, but a quick glance at the clock made you dismiss that idea. You clutched Charlie to your chest, your senses heightening. Another noise, this time clearer: the creaking of a door carefully opening.

Your heart began to pound, but you kept your cool. You couldn’t allow yourself to lose control. Slowly, you made your way to the bedroom door, making sure Charlie was safe in your arms.

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs grew clearer and clearer. Then, a figure appeared in the doorway, a tall, burly man with a cold, cruel gaze. He held a gun, his face partially hidden by a handkerchief.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” the man said, his voice deep and full of mockery. “I didn’t expect to find a babysitter.”

You said nothing, your mind working quickly. The man pointed the gun at you, a gesture that made it clear he wasn’t there to talk.

“Where’s Shelby?” he asked, taking a step forward. “I know she’s not far away. But in the meantime…” his eyes fell on Charlie, who began to fidget in your arms, sensing danger. “Maybe we can send her a message, huh?”

“You don’t have to do this,” you said in a firm, yet calm voice. “Thomas will be back soon, and when he does, you won’t want to be here.”

The man laughed, a harsh, cruel sound.

“And what are you going to do?” he snapped. “Another empty threat? I’m here to settle a score, and if it means hurting the one you care about most…” He motioned to Charlie with a shake of his head.

Charlie began to cry, his small fists clinging to your shirt. Your instinct was to protect him, positioning him so that his body was out of reach of the gun. Despite the fear you felt, you kept your voice calm.

“You’re not going to touch him. If it’s Thomas you want, then he’s him you’ll face. But not a child.”

The man paused, considering your words, but his expression showed no sign of mercy.

“The world is not so kind, young lady.”

Before he could move, another noise echoed through the house. This time, the unmistakable thud of a door slamming shut. The man turned quickly, raising the gun, but before he could react, Thomas appeared in the doorway.

His gaze was deadly. In a quick, calculated move, he pulled out his pistol and fired without hesitation. The sound was deafening in the small room, and the man fell to the floor with a thud, the gun slipping from his hand.

Thomas moved forward slowly, his eyes fixed on the intruder’s body to make sure he posed no further threat. When he was sure, he turned his attention back to you and Charlie.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low but urgent.

Charlie was still crying, his tears soaking your shirt. You nodded, though your heart was still pounding.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” you murmured, trying to calm Charlie as you cradled him against you.

Thomas moved closer, placing a firm but gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Take him downstairs,” he said. “I’ll take care of this.”

You nodded again, walking out of the room with Charlie still in your arms. His sobs began to subside as you descended the stairs, the warmth of your embrace providing him with a modicum of comfort.

When you reached the living room, you sat down on the couch, holding Charlie close. Shortly after, Thomas came down, his steps slower, his expression hardened. He sat down in front of you, his gaze assessing you.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone with him,” he finally said, his voice heavy with a mix of guilt and concern.

“Thomas… it’s not your fault,” you replied, though you knew it wasn’t enough to ease his burden.

For the first time in days, his eyes showed something other than fury. There was fear there, fear of what could have happened if he had arrived a minute later.

As you rocked gently, Charlie’s little face buried in your chest, while you ran your fingers through his hair, murmuring soothing words.

Thomas sat across from you, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together, staring at the floor as if he was trapped in thought. The dim light from the lamp cast deep shadows on his face, highlighting the hardness of his features. But his eyes… his eyes showed something different that night: vulnerability.

“I shouldn’t have taken you away from Charlie,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence with a low tone, almost a whisper. He wasn’t looking at you, but his voice was heavy with remorse. “It was a mistake.”

You look up, surprised by his words. You had expected many things from Thomas Shelby, but not an apology.

“Thomas…” you began, but he held up a hand, indicating that he wasn’t finished yet.

“Ever since Grace died, I’ve tried to protect him, protect us both. But in doing so, all I’ve done is fail him. I can’t give him what he needs.” He finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours. “But you can.”

The words hit you with a mix of relief and pain. You knew how much it had cost him to admit that, how much it meant to him to acknowledge that he couldn’t do everything alone.

“Charlie needs you, more than I wanted to admit. I’ve seen you with him, how he calms down in your arms, how he trusts you.” Thomas ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “And I was an idiot to try to push you away from him.”

You looked down at Charlie, who was breathing easier now, his fingers gently clinging to your shirt. A feeling of warmth and relief settled in your chest. You had been willing to do anything for that little boy, even if it meant facing Thomas Shelby.

“Thank you for saying it, Thomas,” you finally said, your voice soft but firm. “But I need you to trust me, to understand that I would never do anything to hurt him.”

Thomas nodded slowly, his eyes still locked with yours. There was a weight in his gaze, but also a sort of unspoken truce.

“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m grateful. More than I can express.”

He leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees as he watched Charlie with a mix of tenderness and pain.

“I never wanted him to grow up without a mother. And I know you’ll never be able to replace Grace, but what you do for him… that’s the closest thing to a home I can offer him now.”

The lump in your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to keep your composure.

“I’ll do everything I can for him, Thomas. Always.”

For the first time in what seemed like weeks, Thomas smiled, albeit a weak, tired smile.

“I know,” he said simply.

Silence fell between you again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. It was a silence of understanding, of acceptance. Charlie had fallen asleep, his little rhythmic sighs filling the room.

Thomas stood up, walking towards you with slow steps. He leaned down slightly, placing a hand on Charlie’s head and stroking his hair gently. Then, his eyes met yours again.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, but loaded with meaning.

You simply nodded, no need for words.

The next few days were quieter in the house. Thomas allowed you to care for Charlie without interference, and even began to participate more in the moments you shared with the little one. There was a routine that was beginning to feel, if not normal, at least less tense.

You and Thomas also began to talk more. At first, it was practical conversations, about Charlie or about how to reinforce the security of the house. But little by little, those dialogues transformed into something more personal. Moments when, for a brief moment, Thomas Shelby wasn’t the ruthless leader of the Peaky Blinders, but simply a man trying to navigate loss.

One night, after you’d put Charlie to bed, you found Thomas in the living room, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The soft light from the table lamp illuminated the room, creating a warm, almost intimate atmosphere. He was sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, his gaze lost in the flames.

“Everything okay?” you asked, carefully entering the room.

Thomas looked up, his expression relaxing at the sight of you.

“Yeah,” he replied, though his tone said otherwise. “Just… thinking.”

You walked over and sat on the couch across from him. You didn’t want to push him, but there was something in his gaze that night that worried you.

“About Grace?” you asked softly.

He nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down on the table beside him.

“Always Grace,” he murmured. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. What could have been if…” He paused, his jaw tightening.

You didn’t say anything, allowing him space to speak if he needed to. You knew that, as hard as it was for him, these moments of vulnerability were important.

“Sometimes I think I’m losing her,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper. “Her face, her voice… it’s all fading away, and that scares me more than anything.”

Your heart clenched at his confession. Thomas, the man who always seemed so strong, was pouring his soul out in front of you. Without thinking too hard, you stood up and walked over, standing next to him.

“You won’t lose her, Thomas,” you said softly. “She’ll always be a part of you, of Charlie. Nothing will change that.”

He looked at you, his blue eyes shining in the firelight. There was something in his gaze, a mix of pain, gratitude, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Without thinking, he raised a hand and gently brushed it against your cheek.

The gesture took you by surprise, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you found yourself leaning slightly into him, until his lips met yours in a soft kiss, laden with repressed emotion. It was a brief moment, but it was intense, as if both of you were allowing yourselves to feel something you’d been denying for far too long.

But as soon as it was over, Thomas pulled away, his expression changing from vulnerability to guilt in an instant.

“This shouldn’t have happened,” he said, his voice hard and laden with regret. He stood up quickly, moving away from you as if the contact had burned. “I can’t… I can’t do this to Grace.”

The pain in his voice was palpable, but it didn’t hurt any less that his words were hurting you, too. You stayed on the couch, trying to process what had just happened.

“Thomas…” you tried to speak, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“No. I can’t,” he repeated, his tone harsher. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have…”

You stood up, the lump in your throat getting tighter with each word he said.

“A mistake?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly.

He didn’t answer, but his silence was enough to confirm it. You felt your eyes begin to fill with tears, but you refused to let them fall in front of him.

“I understand,” you finally said, your voice firmer than you expected. “Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed so long.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, you turned and walked out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You climbed the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last, until you reached your room. You closed the door behind you, letting the tears finally fall.

The days following the kiss and the rejection were unbearably tense. You and Thomas had gone back to barely speaking beyond what was necessary. Conversations were limited to the basics: directions for Charlie, changes around the house, or simple mechanical greetings. Any vestige of the connection you had begun to build seemed to have faded, leaving an awkward chasm between you.

It hurt, more than you wanted to admit. You had accepted that Thomas still carried Grace in his heart, but you hadn’t expected the kiss you shared, brief but full of meaning, to become a wall between you.

Finally, one night, after you had put Charlie to sleep, you found yourself unable to bear the coldness any longer. You knew you couldn’t continue living in the same house, taking care of Charlie, and pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t.

You found him in the living room, as always, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He barely looked up when you entered, but you didn’t say anything right away. You closed the door behind you and stood there, watching him.

“How long are we going to keep this up, Thomas?” you finally asked, breaking the silence with a voice filled with frustration.

Thomas didn’t even flinch. He took a sip of his whiskey before answering, his tone indifferent.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your jaw tightened, and you took a step forward.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. This. Us. Pretending like nothing happened, when we both know it did.”

Thomas finally looked up, his blue eyes cold and calculating.

“There is no ‘us,’” he said harshly. “There can’t be.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, but you didn’t back down.

“And that’s it?” you replied, your voice rising slightly. “Are you going to keep hiding behind Grace’s memory, using your guilt as an excuse to keep everyone at a distance?”

Thomas’ expression hardened, and he set his glass down with a thud.

“Be careful what you say,” he warned, his voice low but dangerous.

But you were too furious to stop yourself. The pressure of the past few days, the built-up tension, it all came crashing down.

“Careful?” you repeated, taking a step closer. “I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you, Thomas. What’s wrong with you? Why do you insist on pushing everyone away?”

Thomas stood up suddenly, his imposing presence filling the room.

“Because that’s what I do,” he snapped. Because the people I care about always end up hurt or dead.

“And that’s an excuse to treat me like that?” You took a step closer, your eyes flashing with fury. “I’m not Grace! You can’t keep punishing me for something I can’t change.”

The tension in the room was palpable, each word a sharp dart. Before you could think, you grabbed an empty glass from the table and threw it hard. The glass crashed into the wall behind him, shattering into pieces.

Thomas reacted immediately, crossing the distance between you in a matter of seconds. Before you could move, he roughly grabbed you by the arms, his grip firm but not painful. His eyes burned with an intensity that took your breath away.

“Enough!” he growled, his voice hoarse and heavy with repressed emotion.

You were about to retort, to fight against his hold, when suddenly, without warning, his lips crashed against yours. It was a desperate, hungry kiss, as if both of them were trying to drown all the pain, frustration, and guilt in that moment.

You resisted for a moment, surprised by the abruptness, but quickly gave in, kissing him back with equal intensity. His hands, which had previously held you tightly, slid down to your waist, pulling you closer.

The world around you disappeared. There was no more arguing, no more awkward silences. Just the warmth of his lips, the frantic beat of your heart, and the feeling of being, for the first time in days, completely alive.

His lips left yours for an instant, moving down to your neck, as his hands eagerly explored. Everything about him was urgency, need held back for too long. There were no words between you, just the ragged sound of breaths and the steady throb of a dormant desire that had finally exploded.

“Tommy…” you murmured in whispers, your fingers getting lost in his dark hair as he lifted you slightly, leaning you against the nearby wall.

He responded with a growl, capturing your lips again, as if afraid that moving away for a second might break the connection. It was a forbidden moment, but you were both too far away to stop.

The room seemed to fill with heat as every barrier crumbled. Thomas was all fire, and you consumed yourself with it without remorse.

Finally, when the intensity subsided, you both lay still, breathing hard, still entwined. His eyes searched you, and for an instant, you saw something more than desire. It was a vulnerability he rarely showed, an acknowledgement that he needed you more than he was willing to admit.

He didn’t apologize this time. There was no room for words; the silence between you spoke for itself. And in that moment, you knew nothing would ever be the same again.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain, God.

(Next)

Your name is Grian...

... Well, It's quite a bit more complex then that.

Your name was ____ when you first emerged from the void from which all came from. Brother to creation and destruction and order. A god of nothing... yet.

Your name was Xelqua when the other gods were created and needed a name for you... That was your name when Aeor created the stars and when Lady Life created the first miniscule cells and it still was when Lady Death was created to collect them.

Your name was T⍑∷ᒷᒷ when you annhilated the creatures of the Cambrian, when you erupted the Earth and destroyed those of the Permian and when you shot an asteroid at the massive reptiles of the Cretaceous.

After that your names have been many. You have been called Set and Eris and Loki and Balor and Leviathan and so much more. Pandeminium is a favorite of yours, after all that was what you caused when you introduced superpowers to the world 100 years ago.

But now, now your name is Grian. You had to pick a new name if you wanted to truly pretend to be a mortal and Grian just had such a nice sound to it.

Who Grian is going to be... You haven't decided yet, there is just so many things you could do that you hardly needed to plan. Could you Imagine it? Chaos itself making a plan? Now, that would be something...

Where Grian is... something you can answer much more easily, you are somewhere in Hermitopia. If you were to guess somewhere near the hero tower.

Lastly, as for why Grian is? Why you decided to do this at all? Well, you just wanted to have some fun! Mess with heroes and villains alike a bit! After all, things have been far to peaceful as of recently and you were getting bored.

Chapter 1

Poultryman was going to be the one to be "born" first. What better then a vigilante persona made as an excuse to trow at eggs at villains and heroes alike in the name of justice? It was just to fun of an idea not to do it. Creating him wasn't even that hard, you gave your human form some chicken-like wings and a chicken mask and it was done... Now to actually begin your act.

It's your first night out as a vigilante and you have already ran into a mugging, you are almost impressed.

"Look who we have here" The thief looks back at you, you can see he's holding a knife... It's pretty small, kinda embarassing on his part.

He seems a bit surprised by you being here, he has to have like no spacial awareness whatsoever because you haven't done anything to hide yourself while you were approaching.

"Who are you!?"

Is it really not obvious? One would think the outfit or the mask would speak for itself... Perhaps you have overesrimated mortal minds, you'll have to introduce yourself it seems.

"Well!? I have a knife"

Ohhh, a feisty one. Also, very impatient, you were getting to it. Guess It's time to introduce yourself officially.

"I am... Poultryman"

...

"Poultryman? Really?"

Excuse him? Poultryman is a great name, he must clearly be blind to the divine genius you possess. For that alone now he's definitely getting egged. You decide not to give him time to continue, you don't really care for what he might say. You throw an egg in his face causing him to fall to the ground and letting the woman that was being mugged have the opportunity to get herself free from the hands of the mugger.

"An...egg? What the fuck-"

You egg him again for daring to question the holy egg, this one actually spawns a chick.

"Stop it!"

You think about it...for about two seconds. "No" You egg him again... He doesn't seem very happy about it, he actually must be pretty mad because he tries to stab you... It doesn't work, of course, you can't exactly stab a concept, but still...very rude.

You teleport behind him and knock him out, this thing was taking too long at this point. You then turn to the grateful woman.

"Well then, that was easy, if you could call someone now to pick up this guy that would be great"

And then you're gone. Wonder how long it will take for the news to hear about you.

The answer is apparently: not that long.

[xsommeee]

Dazai's room is an exact replica of what Mori had in his. Nothing touched everso slightly, he rarely sleeps at night, sits glued to a chair in the corner and states in the dark. Talking to himself at various moments, arguing passionately against tall red drapes. In a Victorian era styled rooms with bedded pillars and purple soft carpet floors. Multiple grim artworks hung on the walls with heavy embellished frames.

If you asked Dazai what the model number written under the gun of a goon who walked past him this morning, he'd tell you with absolute certainty. However he had no idea about the bedding in his room, or the couch, he didn't even know the curtains were red. He simply never looked at them, he only saw the high void like ceiling.

“Comment était votre petit voyage?” Dazai remarked without moving. The room was completely silent before this, a normal person will say there wasn't a person there either.

“Il n’y a jamais de voyage.”

“Then where were you this whole week? Trying on better dog collars?” Dazai says glaring at the other. There was light illuminating a scowling slime face.

Chuuya Nakahara was missing from the Port Mafia quarters, the second in command had performed none of his duties for over two weeks “I need to talk to you, with sincerity” Chuuya breathes in “You- you delivered a box filled with over 200 hearts to the place I was in today.” Chuuya crosses his arms, visibly uncomfortable.

“Two hundred and thirty three for the fourteenth day of you not coming back. The Fibonacci sequence you know, I recognise your love for math and physics.” A horrific grin plastered on Dazai. Chuuya opens his mouth but falls short of words only to get interrupted.

“You wanted to avoid this outcome? I had warned you, Chuuya. You could have filed a leave application instead of disappearing, why didn't you? Did you really think I was bluffing?” “Bastard!” Chuuya grits, “you knew where I was!”

“Yes, and that doesn't excuse your absence.” Dark eyes cut into crystal blue ones. There's a surge of pain in the latter.

“Dazai,” Chuuya walks towards him half bowed with a desperation and uncomeliness he'd never felt. Wildly gesticulating every word and eyes blown wide. He screams, abuses and cries all through the same words and speaks without breathing. “I’ve had nothing, nothing to do for more than six months. I know batshit about whatever you're doing, hell that white hair kid who's been here two days knows more than I. A shitty goon with no use but to die first is more useful than me. Hell Dazai I’d fucking go out there not use my powers and fight like that recruit. But all, all that I do is come to this goddamn building and sit in an office she used to sit in. Watching people I used to know and respect deride me. Spit on me for the traitor I am! You wanted revenge over me not supporting your accession.”

Chuuya fists Dazai’s shirts shaking him with his own trembling body, “You’ve had it. I don't think you could have more. I'd say whatever you want, do whatever you say. Just- just let me peace, some peace. Stop torturing me like this. Like you’re unaware, behaving like this is alright, I’m tired. I’m sick. I’m already crazy! There's nothing left, nothing, nothing, nothing!”

Dazai had gotten up during this tirade, holding the hand fisted in his shirt, rubbing Chuuya's back soothingly with the other. By the end of it a heavy silence ensued. Dazai stared at his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

He started speaking calmly as if Chuuya was upset after seeing a rat get run over by a car. “Shh, don't be like this. Walls have ears, if someone heard chibi right now, you want something to do that's all? If that's it, I want you as my bodyguard. I had proposed it multiple times. You don't need to go anywhere, not the office or meetings, just stay.”

“Stay with you?” Chuuya murmurs under his breath. Dazai moves in closer, pushing Chuuya into his chest, trapping him with his arms. A dark room with two figures towered inward, they're two worlds colliding, obliterating each other.

From an outsider's perspective the Port Mafia's boss and his second in command are such dynamically different people. A different species altogether Osamu Dazai with his cold antipathic gaze, he can scare people with his mere presence in a room silent, still and unfeeling. There is anger in him too, unlike what appearance states, but it is reasonable and calculated, a white freezing fire. Chuuya Nakahara on the other hand is scalding hot, even to Dazai, burning himself from within like an amber ignited orange and red. He is simplehearted and straightforward to most, nevertheless complexities lay buried deep within him, in their presence he begins to think of everything as an act, a heinous disgusting lie. Dazai pokes that part of him, a place where they align the most perfectly in his eyes.

Dazai smashes his lips over Chuuya's, holding his nape in his hand to bend him up. The energy that possesses him while doing this however leaves him instantly, he backs just a little but their lips still touch, feeling each other's breaths fan over.

A few tense moments pass like that. Dazai stirs first, he knows the reason why Chuuya wants to leave. He moves backwards with such slowness as if moving away is excruciatingly painful. Chuuya doesn't let him move too much though, kissing Dazai full and tender, breaking it at times to look into his dilated eyes as if to read some unknown secret. Dazai holds him tighter than a drowning man stuck in a storm with only a log to float.

Read the rest here? Idk I really like this fic, like really I hope people read it, I'd write like one chapter more :

[cardinalcanis]

Not this time

Summary: Elric and Lion meet again after being apart fighting across Imperium Nihilus, the distance and time making them crave each other more than anything.

TW: smut, fluff, yes I joined the breeding kink gang, ftm character,

Word count: 3009

Tag squad (let me know if you wish to be tagged on stuff): @druidwolf21 @wolf-feathers12 @artemisareia @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus

@gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @kit-williams @egrets-not-regrets @jaghatai-khock @horuslupercal @moodymisty

@sinistermojo @beckyninja @justallll

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“Easy with those hands Big Guy, you do not want to jank my hearing implant out again.” Joked Elric as Lion’s calloused hand had pulled him closer, his growing arousal demanding more of the cadian’s skin to make contact with his. “Maybe that’s what you want, if I can’t hear you I can’t be told to stop.”

There was a time when the colonel wouldn’t have lowered his guard half a second inside that strange forest world Johnson could travel through. But there they were, naked under void kissed canopies. 

“No answer to that?” he teased again, only receiving a pretending to be oblivious grunt from Lion. 

His Big Guy liked to keep secrets, but the primarch’s body was such a talker and Elric loved conversing with it for hours. The Lion was laying on his back, a landscape of blonde hair carpeted his muscular body just as the grass did the ground beneath him. Elric was straddled over one of Lion’s thick thighs and now being dragged to rest his full body over Johnson’s while he continued fingering Lion El’s hairy hungry cunt. 

The sound of the man’s wetness threatened to overshadow the nearby stream’s, coating his buttocks and shaky thighs. Elric observed Lion’s chest expand as his breath deepened, an excited nipple right at the perfect height to be taken into his mouth, throne it would be an act of heresy not to dig his face and suck on those godly pecs. His teeth biting into the pale skin made Lion’s hole tighten around his fingers, making Elric increase the intensity in which he assaulted the growing tender spot inside Lion. On the outside he kept his thumb massaging the swollen clit, already overstimulated from having been driven to climax several times already. 

“Soldier… ahh… Elric…” fuck, it had been six months since last time they saw each other, how much he missed having his name being grunted and moaned by the primarch. Yet Lion was trying to keep restrain.

“Such chaste sounds still, what do your other lips say?” Lion had started to rock his hips along Elric’s fingers, helping to finger fuck himself and full on grinding his clit on the soldier’s palm. “Look at that, your mouth needs to learn from them.” He teased the wanting giant. 

“Soldier I… I think I need to pee.” The First said, making Habermas smirk as if chaos had possessed him. 

“No, you are not peeing yourself.” He would have caressed Lion’s hair reassuringly, but his left arm was trapped with the primarch’s touch starved need to have him held close. 

“I know when I’m… ah…” 

Elric felt the man tense under him, fighting the new unknown feeling, wrestling the natural reaction to keep rocking his hips along Elric’s fingers. The Colonel in response increased the intensity once again, making a weak whimper emerge from Lion’s unwilling mouth. 

“Big Guy, Big Guy, focus on me.” 

As if it was that easy, Elric himself struggled not to ram himself inside such a perfect cunt. Fuck how easily he could slip in now with how wet it was, it would stand no opposition and welcome his cock in its warmth. He had begun to instinctively hump Lion’s thigh as he failed to control his own arousal. Many men would have seen being the first to claim Lion as a source of honor and pride, Elric found that fetishization as a way to hide lack of skill and insecurity, in fact it filled him with rage knowing that said beauty has been left unworshiped and unfed for so long, not because Lion’s desire to be so but the insecurity he would lose something that would make him less valuable as a partner. 

He kept the pace despite Lion’s stubborn pleas, he had stood shooting non stop for days, there is no way he would allow his arm to falter in this battle of will. 

“Big Guy please, relax for me, it is not a bad feeling.”

The man’s stomach and leg muscles began to twitch, a familiar sting of nails drawing blood kissed Elric’s back as Lion’s grip possessed him. At least after one broken rib he has learned to measure his lust directed strength. 

Forest green eyes met warp cursed purple in a plea for release, the pale face was flustered, aroused red lips parted into a moan that was a bit higher and nasal than the normal deep commanding voice. Vulnerable and exposed as that quivering pussy spread like a flower ready for his picking. 

“Soldier… I am going to… but I am peeing.” whimpered Lion in a weak attempt to look like he was still under control.

“It is not pee, relax and let it happen.” He answered in a soothing tone almost being swallowed by the intense lewd rhythm of fingers ravaging a cunt lost in lascivious desire. “When you feel it coming, I need you to push a bit, not too hard, just as if you know, were going to pee. Trust me.”

A sober Lion would have found twenty mistakes in that argument already, but this wasn’t him, the stern giant was downed and unshielded. Elric took pride, as any cadian shock trooper would, in his job at taking down beings that dwarfed him in size. His people’s blood had been tempered by generations by the Eye of Terror, nothing no matter its size could break him, it would be brought to surrender. Be it fuck up the daemon prince or fuck a stubborn primarch, they will break before he does or die trying. 

The force of spasms became stronger, remaining firm on top of Lion was similar to riding an untamed wild beast. 

“Remember what I told you, okay? Now Big Guy cum for me, your brave Soldier is back home between your legs, give him the hero's welcome only you can.” 

The struggle finally broke, the giant’s body surrendered to one single purpose: the pressing sensation between its legs. Desperately grinding on and driving Elric’s fingers deeper, harder. The orgasm came with a long shaky moan followed by a stream of liquid running between the colonel’s fingers. He pressed on no matter how hard Lion buckled and twisted, calling for the rain two more times before the primarch yanked his hand away. 

His Big Man howled and panted, rolling to the side to wrap his body around Elric’s like a child in fetal position. Face nuzzled on his neck as a soft wimpey purr accompanied every exhalation.  

“You should have told me the fuck you were going to do.” 

“Complaining? This fast? And I thought I had done a good job.” he teased before capturing the man’s lips with his, that mouth still tasted like Elric’s own cock and cum from earlier, in exchange Lion could enjoy the flavor of his very slick on his. “Big Guy, it’s been so long…” 

“I missed this too.” Lion kissed him again in the lead of lifting Elric up with ease and setting him up on a sitting position, back resting on the nearby tree. “And this even more.” He continued getting over Habermas’ lap, legs supportorting on both sides, controlling the weight so he is not crushed. 

What a beautiful sight, being almost killed by orcs was worth every second if it meant getting back to this. Johnson rubbed his drenched sex against Elric’s aching shaft; he wished he had bigger hands so he could squeeze more of Lion’s ass in them. Even at the outside he could feel the cunt still twitching in post orgasm spasms, he needed to be inside before he’s driven insane. His thoughts seemed to have been read as the tip of his dick parted the entrance open. 

“No, Lion El’, wait…” it took so much of him not to stretch that hole open in one thrust. Elric tried to move and get a hold of his casted away pants. “The cond…”

“No.” Lion’s tone was stern, demanding, and in its depth a masked desperation. “I want… “ he paused, ever so proud to admit what he truly ached for. “I need you raw.” The desperation bled more through the facade. 

“Alright, just be ready so I can pull out in time you wouldn’t want to…” 

“I WANT TO!” His words were more of a plea than an order, that tone hurted Lion’s pride to use “Elric, my Soldier…”

Gently, he brushed Lion’s pale gold hair strands away from his face and behind and ear. Having a full view of his shameful expression. The primarch responded with the same gentleness when he took hold of both of Elric’s hands and placed the palms over his lower belly.  

“Lion, my Big Guy.” This face was new, sex always made the cold and calculating Lion a bit dumb, but the new development was very entertaining.

“It has lurked on the edges of my mind for a while, distant and passing quickly… ah…” Lion was getting back to the composed leader tone, nothing the painfully slow caress over his clit wouldn’t fix.

“You were saying?” In contrast to the Lion, Elric’s tone wasn’t hiding his intentions. 

“These six months… mhmm…” a deep moan  right from his center intruded him mid sentence. “It has moved to the front, Elric… ah…” his body arched at the constant touch and the rubbing of the wanted dick across his cunt. “No matter what I shove in me… shit… you damned clown, you get what I want, do it or I will… ah…” he barked with his usual temper before surrendering back to the feeling. 

“I’m sorry my Lord Lion, your orders are too vague, I need specifics.” He tilted his head to the side and pushed the hair away so Lion could see him clearly lower the hearing implant’s sensitivity. “And I think you pulled me a bit too hard, you’ll have to say it louder, shit’s failing again.” 

Lion closed his eyes and sucked his lips followed by a heavy swallow. Large pale hands followed the contours of his chest upwards, then cradling Elric’s face, it fit just right in one of them. Lion El’Johnson was found mute helpless, biting his lower lips while teary eyed. 

“Tell me what you want and it's yours. I live to serve you, Big Guy.” There was no sarcastic flavor to the words, it was loving and understanding, maybe he had pushed too hard knowing how bad Lion is with vulnerable feelings. 

With the care someone picks up a glass piece, Lion turned the implant’s sensitivity back up, his gaze lingering on Elric’s eyes. 

“My sons already call you father, I want to make you one proper.” Elric felt how Jonson pressed his hips harder. “You’ve made love to me, you’ve fucked me… I need you to breed me.” 

“Lion” They’ve had this discussion briefly before, the responsibilities of their lives, the constant danger… they had decided not to take the risk. And yet Lion El’s plea triggered something in him. “Are you sure we are in the right state of mind for this discu… Ah… throne…”

The primarch’s hips became more pressing on their demand, their rock abandoning the gentleness they had been keeping. 

“You don’t get it, I’ve finger fucked myself to tears of frustration these last months…” his voice was fully broken and meek, almost a whisper “every cell of my body is screaming, I cannot discuss in another state of mind because I am unable to get out of this one until you pump my womb…”

Elric was right, that sweet sweet cunt presented no opposition to him. It welcomed him between its silken walls with such ease, even the thickest part of his cock that used to be a bit of a problem got in during that same thrust. Emperor, why did you make your son’s pussy so divine? Lion was also over the moon at his first taste of raw dick. He didn't remember him riding with such delight and intention, Elric smirked as he considered that the great strategist had planned and practiced for the moment he could drain him dry. 

“Soldier… my soldier…” Lion’s body didn’t lie to him, he’s been wanting this for so long that now he has it, there is nothing more than a pure display of euphoria “I love you soldier… please breed me… look how much your cock loves me it stretches me so good… ah… this is meant to be.”

Those were the moans he missed so badly. Lion was designed to hyperfocus on one single task, leaving everything else at secondary or just shut off. And when the task was ‘cock’ the results were as witnessed.

“Lion El’Johnson saying please and being cute.” He teased “If I would have known all I needed to do to make you be nice is shove my raw dick in you I would have done it so long ago.” Lion gripped the tree behind Elric, helping himself with balance and to pivot to make the thrusts even deeper. “If I had done so from the start we could already have a little soldier of our own, he would have been almost two if I’m not wrong.”

His own hips were getting numb out of Lion’s weight but stopping left the vocabulary the second he rammed himself all in, his man mewling like a cat in heat with every push against his cervix. 

“Do it now, please, whenever you want to force it into my hole, raw cock, please… ah… everyday… please don’t pull out until you put a child in me… or two…” 

Elric had joined the careless whimpering and grunting, sex is supposed to be careless, messy, to turn you so dumb you only knew the person you were with was the best thing in the world. 

“You’ll get so big.” He said, pressing on Lion’s sweaty stomach. “Swollen full cum and later children.” 

Lion squeezed hard around him followed by a quick trembling and groans, his lower body felt even wetter as a result of the bigger man making a mess all over him, pooling slick juices over cinnamon skin. Elric managed to fist the demigod’s blond hair making his eyes roll back lost in cock drunk bliss. 

“Big Guy your cunt’s so good… ah… I’m making you pregnant today… and the day after… no more fucking only breeding for you.” 

The drooling mess on top of him had lost the ability of speech relegated to a series of simple words. The air rised hot with the bare stench of fucking, the relief he had been containing for so long arrived in a delicious wave of pleasure. Every single muscle ached at the titanic effort of holding that giant mess of a man in place so he could properly fill him up, one deep trust after the other he was taken over by the unparalleled bliss of releasing himself inside his lover’s warmth. 

Elric howled and kicked as Lion kept riding him with renewed vigor after his climax, he was so tender and sensitive after cumming yet his man’s focus was lost to the one and only purpose of draining the cadian dry. He spotted a malicious grin on the Lion’s drooling mouth, the ever petty primarch was claiming vengeance for earlier.  The human couldn’t tell how many times he came or if it even stopped to be sure, once his whimpering and gasping stopped he found himself lying beside Lion, a gentle breeze making loose leaves fall over them. 

Elric fully silenced his implant and leaned into him, intertwining their bodies like the tired man does with a warm bed full of blankets, wanting nothing else to distract him from each other’s unaltered twitches and breaths. The drumming of Lion’s hearts, his breath on his face, the smell of their previous arousal, the map of textures in their skins; hairy patches meeting flesh with barely a bit of fuzz, old scars sharing their stories with new ones, firm muscle pressing against fatty pouches. 

“Are you really sure about this?” Elric said, breaking the silence, his glance upwards to read Lion’s lips. “We can still talk to the apothecary for a morning after brew.”

‘It looks like you are the one who’s not sure’ Jonson’s lips spelled.

“We were dragged apart for six months, it has never been this long, but it can get longer.” He started to rub his man’s stomach tenderly. “I want to be in my children’s lives, Lion, not leave you to the work like some deadbeat.” 

‘The fact you are worried about that makes you no deadbeat. Maybe they’ll just learn earlier to skin a pelt than to assemble and disassemble a rifle, but they would never doubt you love them, like I never doubt you do to me.’ 

Elric buried his face on Lion’s chest and chuckled, hiding a slight fluster. The vibration on it made him aware he was speaking again.

‘You’ll be a good father.’ He didn’t need to perceive the tone to understand the firm belief the speaker had in his words. 

“Big Guy, I’m a guardsman, my job is to die. How good of a father is a corpse?” 

Lion pulled him into a lazy yet loving kiss. 

‘Trust me on this soldier, can you do that?’ 

Trust is a word that took them both to be able to use on each other, even had times in which it almost fell to pieces. Elric looked down at one of Lion’s hands that was resting on his leg, a crude polished metal ring on it, Looked more like someone snagged and shaped a piece of scrap from a wreckage than proper jewelry quality metal. He placed one of his hands over it, an identical ring on one of his fingers. Trust.    

“Just this time, don’t make it a habit.” 

They smiled at each other, knowing full well the extent and dangers of their responsibilities. He has lived his life for duty and will end it for it, Elric thought about maybe he could allow himself a bit of selfishness. 

[lightgriffinsect]

Kou: *trying to climb onto the roof to do a backflip onto a trampoline* Spacey: *trying to stop him* Yukichi: *cheering him on* Void and Psychic: *making a bet on whether or not Kou will hurt himself* Radi: I need new friends.

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[capricioussun]

ohhh glitchfell???

Glitchfell!!! It's funny you mention that specifically, because originally it had just been to separate Dos specifically, but I've actually been developing it on its own on the back burner...

Dos is still sort of the star of the show, since, well, he’s the reason it's glitchfell. Dos is [REDACTED]. However, his creator made a fatal flaw when trying to fix a previous mistake and it completely fucked Dos' code. At first, it was just minor glitching and stat instability. But as he got older, and the attempts to fix the mistake only continued making it worse (sort of), by the time he was a young teen, the glitching was causing problems in the Main Code, so when a particularly bad episode hit, he unintentionally collapsed the timeline and threw himself to a "neighboring" au.

...or so he thought (and how I'd initially written it lol).

But I've been working with, at least an alternate "timeline", where the au didn't actually collapse when Dos was thrown. Rather, it became corrupted. It wasn't too bad at first, more like Glitchedswap, where there were new tics here and there, but things could continue on as normal.

Unfortunately though, a tree cannot grow from a severely damaged trunk. At least not well. The damage was done, and as time went on, the corruptions only continuously worsened. There's a good likelihood it would have collapsed on its own by the time Dos met Void, there's just no way an au like that could sustain itself after a point, but it's incredibly interesting to think about how far it could've fallen before that point, and if it's possible anyone from it could've been saved before then...

Or if anyone would've put them out of their misery before it got so bad.

[phoenixcatch7]

Man I am just SO CONFUSED. About the time line of this game.

No one is telling me how long links been gone! Or how long the botw-totk timeskip was! They all just started selling my stuff again lol. I'm going to have to get everything redyed!

Me: hey random stranger! Lore dump? You look like a lore dumper.

Kindly npc: why hullo there, link ^^! My, I haven't seen you in a while since the calamity ended! I was so worried when they said you and the princess had gone missing! But it's good to see you're well.

Me: aw, thanks. How long has it actually been tho.

Kindly npc: ^u^

[lymtw]

"Come here," Toji says, at the sight of the involuntary pout that works wonders to express your internal, dispirited mood. His attention is divided very unevenly between you and the movie playing on the TV, you holding the greater part of his focus. He's watching you for his own peace of mind, hoping that every time you take a break from the movie, to check your phone, you'll spare him a look. You've been quieter than he knows you to be, and you're not sitting even remotely close to him. He's on one side of the couch and you're on the other side.

A few seconds pass since Toji spoke up, and he wonders if you even heard him in the first place, because you didn't respond. He passes on repeating himself when you shift your eyes from the TV to meet his gaze, and though your gloominess isn't because of him, you can't offer him any sort of indication that you're good.

"Sorry, i'm not in the mood to take my clothes off, Toji," you say, your voice a gentle, pitiful excuse for sound. If your voice could be seen, it would be similar to the tragic way that grass blades slowly try to stand up, after being stepped on. If the sound of your voice could be felt, it would be the void-like, almost nauseating feeling in your stomach, that comes with ignored hunger. You sound detached from the bright person Toji knows, and clearly, you're not okay.

"I'm not asking you to undress yourself. I want you to come to me," Toji responds. "You're sitting so far over there, away from me, like I did something to you. For being the most reasonable person I know, this isn't fair, at all." His eyes stay on you as he awaits your response, but he is only met with the sight of you looking down at your hands.

"Be fair. You didn't help me get better at communicating, just to turn the tables on me like this." His tone is sharper, out of urgency. He wants to know what he can do for you, but it's hard to do that when you're there, yet, not there. "Just... come here, ma," Toji tries again, his voice a little softer and understanding. "Please. Let's talk about anything." He pats his thigh, directing you to one of the reserved spots he holds for intimate conversations with you.

You know Toji's stubbornness will not leave you alone. It's impossible to hide anything from him once he's onto you, so you stop prolonging the inevitable and silently do as he says.

You turn off the TV, before walking over to him and settling on his lap. You sit there, with a racing heart, because Toji's attention feels like a spotlight on you. His hands interlock at the small of your back and rest there, as he waits for you to say something. Silence invades the moment while you figure out where to start.

"What's wrong?" He asks, when there is no attempt to speak made by you. Immediately, your throat begins to ache, and your eyes start to sting. It's a question known for breaking people, and you're on the brink of becoming another victim. You think you can widen your eyes to keep them dry or blink away the tears, but the outcome doesn't favor you. Toji's hands shift so that they're splayed out on your lower back. They move up and down in soothing motions, as if he's trying to coax your strong emotions out with the comforting gesture. Like a gloomy sky finally giving in to rain, you cave in to vulnerability.

"Baby?" Toji calls, watching as sadness takes over your features. He sighs as he pulls your twinkly-eyed self into his tight embrace. He hates when you cry. The sound and the sight is the equivalent of pouring acid on his heart. It's torture for him to see that his baby, his sweetheart, his love, has been reduced to streams of tears, but he knows that getting it all out is for your own good. This is the 'alcohol in the wound' part of the process. You don't want to do it, but you'll feel better, afterwards. Just like a real physical wound, Toji will make you get it done. Scream if you must, curl into him like you are trying to go through him, he's not going to abandon you.

"Just breathe, sweet girl," he instructs, when he hears the heart wrenching sound of your stuttered breaths. "Breathe. Give me a good one," he says, rubbing your upper back. You inhale, the act still heavily stuttered, before you exhale. "Good. Again." You repeat the process and get the same trembling breath as a result.

"Fuck," you choke out. Your head feels like it's pulsing, your abdomen burns, your chest feels heavy, as if you have chains tightly wrapped around your torso, and your throat aches. It's all so overwhelming, you feel like there's a disastrous storm ruining you from within.

"Sweetheart, please breathe. You're gonna turn blue any minute now." Toji can't hold you any tighter without crushing you, but he wants to, so badly. This is the lowest he's ever seen you and it's killing him. He has never made you this upset. It's hell to even imagine what you must have endured to get to this point.

"You're safe. I have you," he says, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of your head. "I'm here, baby."

Toji's shoulder is damp from your waterfalls of tears and he can feel an excessive amount of heat radiating from your trembling body. Your crying ceases and all that can be heard are sharp, short inhales and puffs of air, as you try to regulate your breathing. Toji continues running his hands over your back, soothing the tired, tense muscles of your shoulder blades.

"We are gonna have to talk about this later, doll. I know that might not sound like the most fun thing to do, but it'll make you feel better. I want you to feel better."

Toji is mindful of your silence. He knows your voice isn't in the best condition to speak after your surge of emotions, and you're probably exhausted, but this isn't a dead end for him. He'll figure out your needs, and he'll take care of you. Anything to bring your happy, smiling face, back.

Toji allows you to pull away from his shoulder, and instantly takes in the sight of your pretty, ruined face. You don't look at him, and he assumes that your appearance is to blame. Your eyes, they're red and puffy, glimmering in the light with your now contained feelings, and you're still sniffing like you need to blow your nose. It's terrible to see you this way, but he would withstand much more than this, if you needed it.

"How does a bath sound, for now? A bath and then some food? You hungry, mama?" He asks, his expression involuntarily soft, as he runs the pads of his thumbs beneath your eyes, attempting to clean you up a little.

"No," you say, quietly, with the fragility that remains of your voice.

"I'm gonna pick up some food while you relax." Toji almost laughs at the subtle roll of your eyes. "That's my bad. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. You need to eat something."

He doesn't want to put you through any more stress, but when he needs to take care of you, during times like this, he knows what you need more than you do. Your reasoning is clouded by your emotions, and you'll let go of yourself, because your thoughts rewind over and over to what's plaguing your mind. Toji knows you'll be glad he did this for you when you feel better.

"Let's get that bath ready," he says, securing your legs around his waist, before he stands up from the couch. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you breathe in his scent, until you reach the bathroom.

Toji flicks the light on and sets you down on the counter. A chaste kiss is pressed to your tearstained cheek, before he lets you go so he can prepare your bath. You turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror and hate the messy sight before you—the product of your meltdown. You turn on the cold water and splash some on your face, hoping to decrease the puffiness of your eyes, even just a little bit, while Toji is busy. You dry your face afterwards and check your appearance in the mirror, again, to clean up any remaining gunk in your eyes.

When you finish, you turn back, just in time to watch Toji rise from his knelt position by the bathtub. He makes his way back to you and stands between your legs, offering you a contemplative look, and a "hm" to go along with it. No words are exchanged when his hand reaches out to gently cup your jaw, allowing him to turn your head in any way he wants. He leans forward to examine you more closely, to check if anything is "broken". He can see you pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh, as he continues to snoop around.

"Oh," he says, like he found a cable that has simply been disconnected. He turns your head a little, and keeps inspecting the problematic area, building up the suspense for you. You couldn't say it, but him finding something scared you a little, considering you had just looked at your reflection and didn't see anything.

"Don't move, doll. I'll get it." His hand rests on your shoulder, the other on your thigh, as he leans in closer and closer, until his body heat coils around you. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck. It's featherlight, almost like a gentle breeze. Another one lands on the same area, then another, and another, until he hears your little laugh, a sound that brought both of you mutual relief. Your relief came from understanding that Toji didn't actually find anything off, while Toji's came from the miracle of him being able to make you laugh, after what went down not that long ago.

"Two seconds, ma," he says, beneath your ear. He pulls away from you and goes back to the now foam covered, sweet smelling bathtub. He leans down to turn the faucet off, and returns to you, afterwards.

"It's all ready for you," he says. A smile curls on his lips when you raise your arms, signaling for him to pull your shirt off. "You wanna keep your bra and underwear on?" He asks, as he pulls the hem of your shirt up. You nod, just before the material goes over your head. He sets it aside and helps you down, off the counter, so you can take your sweatpants off. You pull your phone out of your pocket and set it on the counter. Your fingers hook into the waistband of your sweatpants and tug downwards, until they just slide down your legs and allow you to step out of them.

Toji watches you carefully step over the edge of the tub, one foot sinking through the foam and into the warm water, followed by your other foot. You crouch down, slowly, until you are able to sit down and eventually lay back. You close your eyes once you're in a comfortable position and just let the warm water and the pretty smell work its magic on you.

Toji kneels beside you, and observes you in a more serious manner than before. His gaze lingers on those tired eyes of yours, for longer than any of your other facial features. Your eyelids are still swollen and the bags beneath your eyes are prominent. The longer he stares, the more he thinks back to how you were so distressed, to the point where you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. It scared him. He didn't get a single word about what was wrong, from you. You couldn't say anything other than that single curse, but even then, you sounded like you were being strangled by your own emotions.

Toji knows this is only a temporary fix— this calm sight of you resting in a bubble bath. Your feelings won't be swept under the rug, because he knows that if it were him going through this exact situation, you wouldn't just give him a hug and call it a day. No, when you take care of his mind and heart, you hold him in your arms and don't let go until he's the one trying to cage himself in your embrace when your arms loosen around him. You keep your voice at an intimate volume as you tell him about your day, because sometimes he isn't immediately ready to talk about what is bothering him, but he still wants to hear you. You cook for him, you give his tired body massages, you shower him with love and affection, and when he's finally ready to tell you what's going on, you listen closely to everything he has to say and you offer him your utmost support. You love and protect him to no end, and he has become shamelessly clingy towards you, because of it.

He wants you to feel as loved as he does. He wants you to know what it's like to experience the same level of care you give him. He may not be able to replicate it to a T, but he's willing to try for you.

"Hey," Toji calls, tenderly running the knuckle of his index finger back and forth, over your cheek. You hum, and blink open your eyes, giving him your attention. "I'm gonna go get us some food. Stay on the phone with me and keep me company until I get back, yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah, okay. Can you bring me my phone, please?"

Toji gets back on his feet and takes one large step towards the counter, retrieving your phone, before taking that same step back to leave it next to you, on the edge of the bathtub.

"Be right back, doll. Pick up the phone as soon as I call, okay?"

"Okay."

His hands grip the edge of the bathtub, to prevent him from falling in, as he leans in to peck your cheek once more. His weight shifts onto one arm so he can bring a hand to your face and rub the kiss into your skin with his thumb.

"Love you, ma."

"Love you, too."

With that, Toji stands up straight and heads towards the door. He takes one last look at your pretty face, before exiting the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He grabs his phone from the couch, his keys from the hook on the wall, and messily slides his shoes on, not bothering to put them on correctly, since he won't be getting out of the car, anyways. He secures the inside of the house, before heading out, and once he's outside, he finds his house key and locks the door. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes haste of clicking the phone icon, and then your contact, as he keeps walking to the car. His phone is now against his ear, and he listens as the line rings once... twice...

"Hi, Toji."

"Hi, baby."

[peachedtv]

DOUBLE STUFFED ft. Bully!Satoru Gojo + Bully!Suguru Geto

✰ KINKTOBER 2023 SPECIAL...

✰ SUMMARY: Satoru and Suguru never meant to piss you off, but how could they stop when your reactions would always be so pretty? How could they stop when your reactions to more intimate things would be even better?

✰ CONTENT WARNINGS: afab, female!reader, bully!satosugu x reader, noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, multiple rounds, double penetration (anal and v), porn with some plot, marking, biting, semi-public sex (empty classroom), mentions of forced exhibitionism, breast/nipple play, degradation, fingering, squirting, cum eating, oral (fem and male receiving), face fucking, hair pulling, p in v sex, biting, minor blood, crying, creampie, unprotected sex, just a shit load of nasty fucking 😋

✰ WORD COUNT: 7.5k (WTFF)

✰ AUTHOR'S NOTE: having the most insane bully!satosugu brain rot to cope with mfing school

✰ MASTERLIST.

As much as you could hide it well, Satoru and Suguru really pissed you off.

You glare at Satoru, your hair completely drenched and your uniform in disarray. If you were naive, you would’ve mistaken Satoru for accidentally bumping into you and shoving you backward into the fountain as an unfortunate event. Perhaps the first time it could have been. Perhaps the second was just bad luck. Although, by this point, he had shoved you into the pond every single time you were tasked with feeding the school’s koi fish—and you were not some idiot to miss the way Satoru would hold back a snicker as he offered you a hand out of the fountain.

“You okay? My bad, Himiko.” You see Suguru snort from behind him, his palm covering his mouth as Satoru tries to maintain a sorry excuse for a poker face. It was obvious he was calling you by the wrong name to piss you off, to really degrade you down into your place. But what could you do?

“My name is Y/N..” You mumble, refusing his hand with a lithe wave as you stand up with a light shiver, hugging your arms to your chest, consequently squishing your boobs together in a way that has Suguru's eyes wandering to your cleavage. Your uniform was utterly soaked, hugging tightly to your body, and you held back a frown. Honestly, half the reason why Satoru loved to torment you this way was for the view he’d get. Stupid little you wouldn’t even realize your pink lacy bra would be on full display when your thin blouse turned transparent from the water. For a moment, he’d forget to even reply to your correction, prying eyes hidden behind his sunglasses as they traced from your breasts down to the way your skirt hugged your ass, admiring the way that the water dripped from between your legs could be mistaken so lewdly without proper context.

“Oh, right. My bad, Y/N.” He’d play off, patting your head and picking up the packet of fish food from the edge of the fountain, placing it idly onto a stone.

You felt your heart burn, your hands tightening into fists. Satoru really loved seeing you hold back your insults, a smile spreading across his lips every time you had to pause and take a deep breath to regain your composure after his antics—and there was a reason why you never snapped at them, a reason why you always bit your tongue.

Satoru and Suguru weren’t just your average high school fuck boys. Everyone knew Satoru as the closest thing man could get to being god, attributed to his precociously stupid six eyes and infinite void. Even with his status as a student, he still surpassed the strength of his instructors, borderline toying with them during practice spars, directly toying with his seniors during missions, and mercilessly fucking with you at any moment he could get. His power, his status, the admiration, all this built his sky-high ego that fueled a stupid smirk that could never be wiped off his face. Everyone respected him. He was a newborn pillar of the Jujutsu world, after all. And how could little you stand up against that?

Meanwhile, Suguru stood as Satoru's right-hand man. Suguru was Satoru's 'angel' on his right shoulder, the one who would talk Satoru into a foreign concept of mercy. Despite that, the man still found a certain level of amusement at your disarray. Suguru held an excessive amount of reputation alongside his white-haired friend. With his stupid amount of cursed energy, paired with his cursed spirit manipulation, his ever-growing strength paralleled any of the faculty at Jujutsu Tech. Satoru and Suguru are the strongest. Thus, how could you bite back at their antics when even the teachers kissed the ground they walked upon, too fearful to scold them without fearing for the end of their careers.

It was the way that you bit your tongue against them that was the funniest part. Reactions, that's what they fed off of. Your reaction when you were shoved into the fountain, a yelp slipping past your lips before you'd be absolutely drenched, flailing to pull your skimpy skirt over your ass. The same skirt they bribed the teachers into giving you a size too small because 'the school ran out'. Your reaction when Satoru would accidentally slam his shoulder against yours, causing you to swear it was no big deal before you'd pout as you picked up your things. Satoru and Suguru found themselves entranced in the way you'd react to things: to stress, to annoyance, to teasing. They wanted to see more and more of your sweet little expressions.

Satoru and Suguru weren't just your average high school fuck boys, but you were beginning to lose your mind, you were beginning to not care of whatever reputation and power they had.

It didn't start off tame, but it still managed to rapidly skid downhill. Satoru and Suguru's antics kept progressing further and further, pushing your boundaries and dignity to the limit. At first, there was a minor jump from physical annoyances, such as 'accidental' shoulder bump, developing into more verbal degradations. Suguru would slip one of his cursed spirits into the door of the classroom, fumbling with the key pins until you were trapped inside.

"Oh, is poor little Y/N stuck?" Satoru would smile, his six eyes watching through the door as you would desperately toy with the knob, eyebrows furrowed. "Please, just open the door, Satoru! I have a club meeting today." You frowned, lips pouty as you looked to the door pleadingly, unknowing that Satoru was feeding off your helpless and frustrated expressions.

"Why don't you ask nicely?" A smirk spread across Satoru's lips, he could practically taste the humiliation rising inside you.

"What?" Your voice was trailed off, faint. You knew it was needless questioning for clarification as if you hadn't heard Satoru as clear as day.

"Beg us to open the door. Come on now, I know the weak usually have experience begging for their lives, use that skill in a different aspect. You're a smart girl, no?" Suguru chimed in. You felt the back of your neck burn with embarrassment. There was no way they were being serious, right? You glance to the clock. 16:52, your meeting was set to start in 8 minutes.

"Guys, please. Not today, I really need to get goi-"

"That doesn't sound like begging. Now does it, Suguru?" Satoru cut you off, his voice dismissive. Suguru smiled. "No, you're right there, Satoru." You fell silent. The minute hand ticked. 16:53.

"...please open the door." You said flatly, resting your forehead against the door with your hand weakly hanging off the knob. You were growing tired. Tired of their antics.

"You can do better than that." Satoru snorted. The door slightly sank towards you, likely as a result of Satoru leaning his back against it. You bit the inside of your cheek, gripping your hands into fists. You had the power to break down the door. To shove past them. To curse them out. It was becoming too much to hold back. You swear under your breath, sliding your palm down your face to recollect before you let out a deep sigh.

"...please, Satoru. Please, Suguru. I'm begging you to open the door." You tried to lace as much emotion into your speech, but it still held an undertone of absolute irritation that anyone wouldn't be able to miss. Still, the door clicked, sliding open. "See, that wasn't that hard, was it?" Satoru leaned over you, towering as he smirked, his hands dug deep into his pockets. You frown at him, pushing past him and Suguru as your shoes tap against the wooden floors to get to your meeting.

"Cute, wasn't that?"

"You're right on that."

You didn't think it could get worse. Although, the devil truly knew how to make things work. The devil being Satoru and Suguru.

Quickly, the two's antics would turn purely humiliating. They'd have you beg to be let out of locked closets, classrooms, bathrooms, and storage rooms, until it was having you kneel in front of them and apologizing for bumping into Satoru even if it was obviously your right of way. You'd keep your palms resting on your knees, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up to Satoru with your doe eyes, speaking a soft apology with shame rising heat to your cheeks. Your fingers would fiddle together, nails digging into your skin to try and push past the embarrassment. There was a brace of silence in the classroom after you mumbled your apology. Satoru stood tall in front of you, while Suguru leaned against the teacher's podium with his arms folded in front of his chest.

"You know, I don't think sorry is enough anymore." Your chin picks up to look at Suguru with widened eyes. "What..?"

"I think you're right," Satoru added, kneeling down to you as he took your chin between his fingers, redirecting your gaze to him. "You've been causing so much trouble for us, no? I believe you need a better way to make it up to us this time." Satoru's voice was silky, his head tilting as he spoke, eyes trailing down to your neck, collarbones, before resting his gaze on your breasts. You felt confused, and for some reason, your heart began to sink down into your stomach. "How do I make it up to you?" You were hesitant, slow, your voice hiding back its quiver. Satoru smiled.

You choked out a sob, stifled by the fat cock nudging into the depths of your throat. Satoru's hand held your hair back tightly, your scalp burning as he carefully thrust into your face and used your hair as leverage. You blinked through a build of tears, hands weakly pushing against his thighs to try and tell him to let up, to not fuck his cock so deep into your face. With a particularly forceful thrust, the tip of Satoru's dick punches into the back of your throat, your esophagus contracting as you gagged. Satoru held you firmly in place, and tears began to fill into the corners of your eyes.

"Fuck, just like that, pretty girl." Satoru's breath was ragged, his eyebrows knit together as he looked down to you, pulling back before fucking another harsh thrust into the back of your throat. "Breathe through your nose, now. I can't have you passing out on me." Satoru guided you gently, yet the way he gripped your head and held you to bottom out contrasted greatly with his kind tone. It was a lot easier said than done, especially with how large his cock was, stretching your throat and causing a deep ache in your jaw. Satoru groaned when you swallowed, his head falling back as he closed his eyes. He began to pick up his pace, thrusting his hips while simultaneously pulling and pushing your head up and down him. He never failed to hit the back of your throat with each thrust, smiling when your two hands on his thighs would slowly grip him tighter, a silent way to beg for him to slow down. He never did.

Precum leaked from his tip, swathing against your tongue, salty with a lace of sweetness. He felt himself losing his mind. Satoru cursed under his breath. Why hadn't they done this earlier? How could they have let such a perfect little thing like you slip past their gaze all these years? He watched as you turned your gaze up to him, locking eyes. Your mouth was stuffed full of him, tears welled up in your eyes before they ran down your pretty face. This, this was it. This is what he and Suguru really needed. Throughout their years, he and Suguru had had their way with many dumb, pretty doormats just like you. But as Satoru starts fucking your mouth, heavy breaths falling past his lips as his balls began to slap against your chin, he could tell that your holes were going to be the best they'll ever fuck. You shut your eyes tightly, looking up to him pleadingly with him to give you a break, to let you breathe even just for a little bit. He could tell you've never done anything like this before, or at the very least, never with a cock as large as his. Your innocence was only driving him even more mad, having him relish in the way that he and Suguru would be the first ones to break you in. To use you. To fuck all your holes. Satoru's eyes traced down to your throat, watching the outline of his cock bulge in your neck and a build-up of your saliva drip down from your chin onto your clothed tits.

"Fuck... Eyes on me." His eyebrows knit together, voice airy. With one hand still gripping roughly in your hair, his other reaches down to your throat. His palm wraps around the entirety of your neck easily. You're so small compared to him. Like a dumb little lamb that's wandered too far into the woods, too far into a lion's den. He gives your neck a light squeeze when he bottoms out, hearing you gag and your throat tightening around his cock in response. Once he notices your hands practically scratching down his thighs, he builds up the restraint to give you a break, pulling his cock out of your mouth with a grunt. You gasp, coughs and choked heaves of air borrowing through as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Maybe that was enough, you thought. Maybe now, they'd leave you alone, your dignity bruised and purity shattered.

Much to your dismay, Suguru unbuckled his pants, walking towards you slowly. You look at him with wide eyes.

"W-Wait, I don't—"

"Don't what?" Suguru cut you off, lightly tapping the tip of his cock against your cheek with one hand, his other hand pushing his hair out of his pretty face. Your lips quiver, and you turn your face away from him.

"I don't want to do this anymore..." You looked down to the floor, your hands fiddling together nervously while you knelt before him. Suguru clicked his tongue, his fingers running through your hair gently, tucking loose strands behind your ear.

"You really think we care?" You look up to him slowly. His eyes were half-lidded as they stared down into you, cold. He felt like another person. Many times Suguru would be the one to hold Satoru back, Suguru would be the one who kept you just a little bit safer. Between the two, you'd pick him. Suguru seemed kinder. Yet, you realized your mistake soon enough. Your heart sinks into your stomach. Suguru's grip tightened upon your scalp, he looked irritated.

"When are you going to drop the act?" He pushed your head back, craning your neck to look directly up to him, holding you firmly in place, like a dog being punished to stay still and look to his owner from the ground.

"What..?" You felt a sense of dread sink about you. Suddenly, Suguru lets go of your scalp, grabbing onto your neck and manhandling you into Satoru's lap. Satoru is sitting upon the teacher's desk, with your back against his chest, flush upon his lap. You choke, struggling, hands trying to push and pull at the wrist that kept air keenly out your throat. Suguru signals to Satoru, and Satoru's hand replaces Suguru's on your neck, holding you scarily still. You felt trapped. Small. Vulnerable. Sugur's large hands hooked beneath your thighs, pushing your knees flush against your shoulders before Suguru knelt in front of you. Your skirt pooled around your midriff, and Suguru traced his fingers idly from your clit down to your hole through the fabric of your panties.

"I'll make a deal with you," Suguru's eyes flickered to your face, his gaze sharp as he tilted his head. The view was stomach-churning. Seeing one of the pillars of the Jujutsu World, knelt between your thighs as he played with your cunt through your underwear, just didn't look right. Suguru hooks his middle finger into the side of your underwear. "If I check your pussy and it's not wet, Satoru and I will leave you alone. Does that sound okay?"

"That's not—"

Satoru cuts you off. "I think that sounds like a great deal." Satoru laughs. Suguru hums, pushing your underwear to the side and leaning towards your cunt with a curious look. You writhe, struggling against Satoru's hold on your neck. His large hand gives a warning squeeze.

"Wet pussy never lies, does it?" Suguru chimes, you choke out a panicked moan when his finger probes against your hole, his middle and pointer finger spreading your labia with a V. His other hand slips into his pocket, pulling out his phone and snapping a picture.

"Stop—"

Suguru flips his phone screen towards you and Satoru, your pussy on full view. "What do you think, Satoru?"

"I think," Satoru speaks, "Y/N's body is a lot more honest than her mouth, hmm?" His breath hitches against your ear, you could practically feel him smiling against you.

"Please—ah!" You jolt when you felt cold air blown right against your hole. You squirm, clentching around nothing as your hips struggle and your breath writhes. Satoru groans a little in response, as your needless struggling has amounted to nothing but grinding against his clothed erection. Suguru laughs, leaning back in to gently suck onto your clit. You wretch out a moan, biting harshly into your cheek. Satoru begins to knead your breasts with two large hands, completely enveloping your chest with his palms, his mouth kissing and sucking deep marks of purple and blue into the side of your neck while he works his way to toy with your nipples.

Suguru begins to slowly lap at your clit, sucking onto your clit before his tongue swirls about it harshly. You shutter out a moan, your hands grabbing onto Satoru's wrist to hold on for dear life, your legs trembling and trying to close. Satoru clicks his tongue.

"We can't have you hiding from us, pretty girl. How can Suguru make you feel good then?" Suguru rests your legs onto his shoulders, his hands going to grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continues to suck and lick at your clit, his tongue working wonders and flicking against the bud skillfully. Your breath catches as a lump in your throat, head falling back into Satoru's chest. It's too much. It's too way too much. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes, and you try to push your legs against Suguru's shoulder to no avail.

"T-Too much—" Your voice is weak, shaky from the overstimulation. Satoru gently shushes into your ear. "You can be a big girl for us, can't you?" He hums, his hands grab your wrists and bunches them behind your back. You curl up, body stiffening, opening your eyes to see Suguru looking up at you, staring at you intently and you nearly become lost in his dark eyes.

Soon, you're dragged right back down to Earth when Suguru presses his middle finger against your hole, twisting it until it pushes past your walls, and the heel of his wrist bottoms out against the underside of your clit. You yelp, sharply sucking in a breath of air as Suguru redirects his gaze back to your cunt, humming as he laps up your clit, sloppily pressing the flat of his tongue and dragging upwards before moving his tongue side to side across your bud. Your wrists twist against Satoru's grip when Suguru works another finger inside your hole, stretching you out as he scissors deep inside of you, the pads of his fingers pressing against your g-spot.

Squelches mixed with your struggled moans fill the silence of the classroom, Suguru's tongue pulling away from your clit. With his fingers still inside of you, he stands up, grabbing your chin between his fingers as he leans in to kiss you. You squirm under his touch, closing your eyes tightly, trying to block out what's being forced onto your body. His kiss is full of passion, although it's completely devoid of the kindness and affection that couples usually display. It feels as though he's eating you alive, mouth hungrily enveloping with yours, his tongue pushing past your lips and tasting you completely, muffling all of your panicked sobs and moans. Suddenly, Suguru's fingers begin to pound into your cunt, the heel of his hand slapping against your puffy clit as he slams his fingers in and out of you repeatedly. You feel a knot begin to form in your womb, legs shaking and hips trying to wiggle away from the stimulation. Suguru doesn't slow down. His tongue lapping up into your mouth, teeth biting your lower lip so hard it bleeds as he quickens the pace on his fingers while they curl upwards once fully inside you. A tang of iron spills onto your tongue, and Suguru feels himself being driven halfway insane, drunk off the taste of your pussy, the taste of your mouth, your moans, and your struggled whines.

"I-It hurts." You cry, pussy burning from the stretch as his fingers remain relentless to your cunt. You feel like you're being split in two, and Suguru experimentally scissors inside of you, causing you to shiver and your hips to grind in Satoru's lap.

"I bet," Suguru says. "You're really tight. Relax, and let me in, pretty girl." Your thighs tremble, and Suguru continues to work his way at your cunt, letting go of your chin to rub circles into your clit. Your head falls back as your mouth drops into an O against Satoru's chest. The build-up of pleasure stacks tenfold over itself, completely coiling until it snaps. You cum hard. With a nasty squelch, your pussy clenches around Suguru's fingers tightly, writhing out broken moans as Suguru keeps his fingers deep inside you to curl and probe upwards against your g-spot while he leans back down to suck and tongue at your clit. You sob, his pace persistent and mean, bullying you past your orgasm into painful overwhelms of overstimulation. You feel as though your body is being thrown into overdrive, and your thighs are trembling upon Suguru's shoulders, wrists struggling to get out of Satoru's grip as he holds your arms firmly behind your back.

"Enough, S-Suguru, plea—ah! Too much..—!" You sob, Suguru's fingers continuing to curl and fuck into you, his tongue swishing around your puffy clit. You feel something deep in your pussy snap. You squirt onto his fingers with a scream, tears welling into your eyes as he slams his fingers into you until you're fucked dumb—thighs trembling, chest heaving, and back laid limp against Satoru's chest before he finally pulls his sloppy fingers out of you, his face completely drenched in your arousal.

"That was fuckin' hot." Satoru breathes out, letting go of your wrists and kissing your neck. Suguru licks his lips, relishing in your taste as he lightly slaps your clit, laughing when your eyes widen and your body jolts in response.

"Alright now, upsie daisy." Satoru grabs underneath your arms and pulls you off his lap. You stumble, legs much too weak to stand on your own so soon after your orgasm. Suguru catches you on his chest, peppering light kisses onto the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings on how good you did as he holds you up by your waist. Satoru comes up behind you, pushing your skirt over your ass and pulling off your panties until they pool loosely about your ankles. You sob, your hands moving back to push Satoru away by his hip when one of Satoru's large hands wraps about the entirety of your two wrists, pinning them behind you and arching your back until your ass is flush against his dick and the back of your head is against his shoulder. Satoru's free hand wraps around your neck, holding you in place as you squirm.

"Atta girl, don't be such a cry baby." Satoru kisses your shoulder, pulling his hips back slightly, fucking his cock between your thighs, grinding it against your puffy clit and pussy. You clench around nothing, knees gluing together and hips trying to push back against him desperately. You struggle, wrists squirming to free themselves out of Satoru's mean grip. You scream when one of Satoru's thrusts between your thighs causes the head of his dick to catch into your hole before sliding up to your clit. Suguru smiles at the sight, leaning against a desk in front of you and Satoru as he strokes his cock slowly. Satoru lets go of your neck, still holding you up by the wrists held behind your back, as he takes the base of his dick to press his tip against your hole.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" He muses, voice airy as he slides the head of his dick up and down from your hole to your clit. "No wonder you're so wet." He hums, kissing the side of your neck.

"Stop—oh!" Your voice dies in your throat when he sinks his fat cock into you and bottoms out completely in one thrust, your mouth falling open silent as your eyes widen from the pain. You try squirming away, and the moment you do, Satoru's free hand slides down to press his palm firmly against your womb.

"You feel me in there, pretty?" He muses, licking up the helix of your ear. You sob, trembling in response. You look down to make sure you haven't been split in half, seeing the way Satoru's hand nearly covers the entirety of your lower stomach, seeing a bulge in your tummy from his fat cock nestled deep inside you and against your cervix. Satoru can barely concentrate. He hasn't even begun moving, yet you're already squeezing him so good.

"Fuck... Just like that, baby." Satoru's breath is heavy against your ear, and he bites down on your shoulder to ground himself. You're a strangled mess. Writhing in his arms, your entire body trembling as broken pleas fall upon deaf ears the moment you cut yourself off with your own little moans. Satoru and Suguru can't help but glance at each other, smiling. Fuck, how could such a pretty little thing like you slip past them all these years?

Without warning, Satoru pulls back until only the tip remains inside, before he thrusts his hips forward and bottoms out into you, his hips pressed flush against your ass. You choke out a scream, just as Satoru's hand slaps against your mouth to muffle you.

"Oh common, it wasn't that bad, mm?" Satoru's index and middle fingers push past your lips, swirling about your tongue. "Don't be so loud, unless you want the whole school to know?" Your heart sinks to your stomach, and you swallow, shutting your eyes tightly as you weakly shake your head in response.

"Maybe she really is that dirty of a girl, we'll never know until we try." Suguru muses, pulling out a cigarette from his pants pockets along with those fancy butane lighters with a stupidly long, purple-colored flame. He lights it idly between his long fingers, watching you furrow your eyebrows as the first puff of smoke is blown your way.

"We'd have to start off easy though, she's so sensitive she might die on the spot if we just fuck her in front of a crowd," Satoru replied, slowly pulling his cock out to the tip before sinking back in harshly. You can't even understand what they're saying, Satoru's hand completely shutting you up, his fingers fucking your mouth while his dick has you completely filled to the brim. You feel as though your brain is stupidly empty, overfilled with pain, laced with what you refuse to believe is absolute pleasure. It's too much. The feeling of his fingers in your mouth, against your tongue, his cock dragging against your walls. It's too much. Way too much, and yet Satoru has barely even begun moving.

"Should we start it off with a couple cursed spirits as our audience?" Suguru chimes, head leaning back as the nicotine seems to take its hit. "Nah, that's boring. How about...ah, I know!" Satoru sounds much too cheerful, when he suddenly pulls out to the tip and slams back into you once again. You yelp, muffled sobs passing through the fingers in your mouth as you struggle with your hands pinned behind your back. You moan aimlessly, forced up on your tippy toes to keep taking his dick due to how tall Satoru is compared to you.

"S-Sato—ru! P-Please stop..." A particularly hard thrust stutters you, drowned out by the sounds of him as he begins to pound into your cunt. Perverted squelches drip arousal down your thighs, wetting Satoru's dick, and allowing him to fuck you faster, to fuck you harder. Your legs feel tingly, your clit a puffy, overstimulated mess when Satoru removes the digits in your mouth and uses your own spit to rub circles onto your clit.

"Mmm, how about Nanami?" Suguru suggests. "Fuck her in front of that blonde?" Your heart sinks.

"Oh! That's a good ide- hmm?" Satoru laughs darkly, continuing you fuck into you, his grip on your wrists as relentless as the cock fucking up against your cervix. "God, you fucking clenched around me when Suguru said that. What a dirty slut." Satoru's voice is dark, amused, and even without looking at him, you can bet his usually perfectly kept hair is messy and his face is flushed. He sounds pussydrunk, and his pace begins to stagger.

"No way Mr. Limitless is done already?" Suguru snorts, Satoru scoffs in response. "When you get your turn, let's see how long you last." Satoru rolls his eyes. Satoru becomes annoyed at Suguru's tease, wanting to prove his best friend wrong. And so, he bends you over the teacher's desk, your tits squished against the cold wooden surface as he grabs your hips with both hands, fucking into you like there's no tomorrow. You yelp, eyes rolling to the back of your head, back arching as you held onto the edges of the desk to soften the recoil Satoru's thrusts were causing to your body. He was so big. Both his dick and his stature. As Satoru leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back as he furthered his markings of hickeys and bites upon your shoulder and neck, you felt as though you were cornered, sandwiched with no way to escape. Satoru fucked into you nonstop, and you swear if he kept up his thrusts he would eventually push right into your cervix and fuck his precum into your womb.

You tightened your hands into fists, sobbing in response to a particularly brutal thrust that fucked you so hard you swear you felt it in your stomach. You haven't been pleading for a while now, your moans cutting off your speech completely, Satoru's dick fucking you too dumb to even know what was going on. Where were you again? What time was it? All of your questions would be fucked out of your mind from the drag of Satoru's cock against your walls alone, a vein catching against your velvety walls before he'd slam back into you with no regard to your pain, to your overstimulation, to your sensitivity. He fucked you mercilessly, like a little human fleshlight, as though Satoru wanted to mold your insides to perfectly fit his cock, to ruin you for any other man besides him and Suguru.

"Shit, you still with me?" Satoru asked, his voice low, breathing heavy. He moved your head to rest your cheek against the desk, and he laughed when he saw your fucked out face, eyes rolling back as he kept fucking into you even as he spoke, even as he was trying his best to hold off filling you up with his cum just to avoid Suguru's teasing if he came so soon. Satoru looked at your fucked out face. And although he felt himself fall in love with the view, he needed something new, something more. Sure, your cock drunk state was a view that engraved itself happily into his mind, but he wanted to completely use every part of you. To take all of your firsts as his own. Satoru's pace suddenly flaters, until it comes to a stop. Your chest is heaving, and you sniffle a little. Tears running from your eyes and down to the teacher's desk you were bent over and pinned down into. Satoru gestures to Suguru. Suguru digs into his pocket lazily, before throwing a small bottle to Satoru.

"It'll be a little cold, but don't worry, yeah?" Satoru mused. Even though he was giving you a warning, it was clear his tone held no sense of concern for you. Your eyes widened and hips jolted when you felt something cold and sticky fall onto your asshole. You were about to turn around, when one of Satoru's hands slammed your head back down to hold you flat against the desk.

"N-No! N-No way, stop!" You struggle violently, and Satoru grips your hair roughly, shutting you up through his aggression.

"Oh cool it. Someone would've fucked this pretty ass soon enough, be glad your first is me." Satoru laughs. He ignores your panic, taking his middle finger and swirling it around the rim of your asshole before he pushes it in gently. You scream, biting your bottom lip until you swore you could taste tangy iron. You shut your eyes tightly. This isn't happening. This isn't happening.

"Please...p-please I'm begging you... Stop—ah!" Satoru pays no mind to your pleas, thrusting his middle finger into your asshole slowly, curling the tip and wiggling inside you whenever he bottoms out. His fat cock is still stuffed in your cunt, cockwarming him as he preps your other hole.

"I'm being so kind, no? I'm not even moving and I'm prepping you too! Gosh, be a little grateful, Y/N." Satoru hums, his finger prodding and probing deep inside of you. You've never felt anything like this before, and it feels weird. You try to squirm, to buck your hips away, but you hear Satoru sigh in response, suddenly pulling his cock out to the tip and slamming his hips back into you.

"If you keep being ungrateful, I'll stop caring about you completely." He warns. You sob quietly in response, and the grip in your hair remains firm, pressing your cheek hard against the desk. Smoke from Suguru's cigarette permeates throughout the room, before he drops it onto the ground, stomping upon it and sweeping it up into a small trash can by the door. All you're left with is strangled whines, mewls, and tears that fall down your face, until Satoru works his ring finger into your ass as well. You sob at the stretch, clenching around him to try and push away at the foreign intrusion, yet all that seems to achieve is sucking his fingers deeper. Satoru deems you to be stretched out enough, beginning to pull his fingers out of your ass, before pushing them back in. You buck your hips. You don't know if you're trying to pull away or to the stimulation that's being forced onto your body.

You soon know it to be the prior.

Satoru pulls his hips back, slamming back into you as you yelp and sob in response. He begins to fuck into you while simultaneously fingering your ass at the same speed. Soon, Satoru picks it up. Although he's fucking your ass at a medium pace, the cock pressing against your cervix again and again returns to its previous pounding. You're back to sobbing, moaning aimlessly as you struggle pathetically from the overdrive. You swear you're seeing stars when Satoru adds a third finger into your ass, scissoring the three and curling his fingertips inside you, while the head of his cock presses firmly against your g-spot and cervix, dragging back and forth until your vision feels as though it's fading away. You don't know how long it goes for, but soon, Satoru's three fingers are simply buried into your ass as he focuses all of his energy on fucking your sloppy cunt. His hand releases your head, running down the side of your body to catch your clit between his middle and index finger. You jolt, choking out a wonton cry as he begins to swirl your clit aggressively.

"Cum for me, f-fucking cum." Your body seizes up, stiffening as your eyes roll back and Satoru's cock punches against your cervix. Everything builds up. His cock brutally fucking into you, his fingers pinching and circling your clit, and the three fingers in your ass that begin to pick up their movements as they curl deep inside you. You cum hard, sobbing as your pussy and asshole clench around him, spasming and your legs trembling. If it weren't for the desk you were bent over, you would've fallen completely into the floor, collapsed like an empty fuck doll. Yet you weren't done, not until they were. Satoru fucks you through your orgasm.

"C-Cumming, f-fuck! S-Satoru, too much—AH!" Satoru continues to finger your ass, dick pummeling into you and his pace becoming unsteady when he slams back into you for one last time, tip pressed hard against your cervix before you feel hot spruts of cum filling you completely. Satoru thrusts into you slowly to ride out his high, heavy breaths and degrations falling past his lips.

"F-Fuck, such a fucking whore, huh? Shit..." Satoru leaned over you, chest pressed against your back as he regained his breath before pulling out. You felt a spurt of cum slide down your inner thighs, dripping down from your pussy, and you clenched around nothing. Head empty, fucked dumb, fucked senseless. You didn't even register when large hands pulled you off the desk. You barely even reacted when you were manhandled down to straddle Suguru on the floor.

"Please...enough..." Your voice was weak, your entire body sore and trembling lightly. Suguru shushes you gently, holding the back of your head and cradling you so affectionately. "Shh, we'll take care of you. Wanna feel good, hmm?" Suguru whispered, licking up your neck. You sob in response, knowing that no matter how much you tried to fight them, they wouldn't let you go until they had their fun. Suguru grabs your hips firmly, holding your ass up as he pushes his cock into your cunt. You choke out a moan, grabbing onto his shoulders as your head fell against his chest. You simply cried as he began to fuck you. You thought Satoru surely had molded you into the shape of his cock enough to numb the painful stretch, but you never expected Suguru to be so much thicker. You gripped onto his shoulders tightly, his shirt bunching up beneath your fingers as your desperate cries mixed in with confused little moans as you could only take his fat cock that punched your cervix so hard you felt as though your insides would be scrambled and bruised the next day.

"F-Fuck, n-no more—" You whimpered. Suguru paid you no mind, holding you painfully, his fingers digging into the plush of your hips as he pounded into you with deep grunts. Suddenly, you felt another presence from behind you. Satoru knelt behind you, his cockhead sliding up and down your asshole. You panicked, trying to push your hips away, but Suguru's grip remained bruising. Satoru laughed at your pathetic attempt of squirming away, slapping your ass hard, a sting ghosting where his hand had hit.

"O-Ouch—! Ah!" You yelped in response, and Satoru's hands replaced Suguru's grip on your hips. You were about to open your mouth to protest once more, but Suguru's hands cupped your face and pulled you into a deep, rough kiss. Your moans muffled into his mouth, a confused gasp cut off as his tongue slipped past your sultry lips, your eyes rolling into the backs of your head when Satoru slowly sunk his cock deep into your ass, while Suguru's pace was still unrelenting as he continued to fuck into you like a ragdoll, bruising your cervix and stretching you completely.

Soon, you were an absolute mess. Satoru and Suguru's paces were completely out of sync. Satoru fucked you rough, hard, and fast, his hips slapping against yours as your ass would recoil in response. He held you so firmly, holding no regard for your smaller body as he held you still with too much strength than needed, just to remind you of your place. Satoru moaned each time you'd clench around him, aka each time the tip of Suguru's cock would punch against your cervix once more. Suguru's pace was similarly rough, although he and Satoru would fuck you just out of sync, making sure that whenever Satoru had pulled out to the tip, Suguru's cock would be nestled deep inside of you—and whenever Suguru would pull out your cunt, Satoru would be slamming right back into you. You were nothing but a pretty little fleshlight for the two by now. The two men letting out a series of grunts and low moans as you use your body to their own pleasure, breaths heavy against your ears, deep marks of purple, blue, and bites scattered across your neck, shoulders, upper back, waist, inner thighs. You were completely defiled by them. And fuck, how did they love that. Like a twisted sense of being the first to have something all to themselves, to ruin it for anyone else who wanted to try having a taste.

Your thoughts were completely gone by now, filled with nothing but a cycle: a numb buzz of pleasure that would wind in your womb, a climax to your orgasm, getting fucked right through it, rinse and repeat. How many times has it been? How many times have you cum? You feel as though they have been pounding you for hours, and you shut your eyes tightly, thighs trembling when the coil in your stomach begins to build up once more as Suguru's cock fucked into your cervix, as Satoru's dick pounded into your ass.

"C-Cumming, 'm gonna c-cum..." Your voice was strained, slurred, intoxicated. Satoru laughed from behind you, and Suguru began to circle at your overstimulated clit once more.

"Put on a show."

"Cum then."

You came hard, your grip on Suguru's shoulders tight as you moaned loudly. Suguru stuttered. "F-Fuck, gonna fill you up...make you mine." He rasped, slamming into you one final time before he came deep, hot cum filling you up completely, his dick slowing down his pace to properly jut its final ropes of cum deep into your cunt. Satoru's pace faltered as well, before he gave one harsh thrust that had you recoil forward, pressing your cheek harder against Suguru's chest with a yelp as Satoru bottomed out and filled your ass with his hot cum.

The classroom was quiet. Quiet as opposed to the three mix of heavy breaths, your three bodies tangled together, two cocks stuffing you impossibly full. Satoru was the first to pull out, sitting back on his heels as he pushed his hair back. Suguru grabbed the underside of your armpits firmly, lifting you up and off his dick, a mix of his and Satoru's cum dripping out and onto his abs. Suguru stands up, pulling you up to lay you gently on a table as he leans down to your sloppy cunt. You're completely dazed, and you can only muster a pathetic jolt and whine as Suguru begins to lick your cunt slowly. Your eyes zone out and only occasional whimpers slip past your lips. He laps your pussy up clean, holding your hips firmly as he swirls his tongue around your clit slowly, as though to apologize for being so rough with you. Suguru pulls away momentarily, a string of saliva connecting him to your cunt. His hand slides up the underside of your thighs, pushing your knees into your chest with one hand as he leans down to your ass. His tongue rims you gingerly, and you moan quietly, sobbing so weakly from the final drive of overstimulation.

Once both your holes are clean, Suguru and Satoru gather up your uniform, stealing your panties but being kind enough to fix your uniform. Satoru pulls you up, holding you bridal style as you close your eyes, drifting off to sleep. Suguru stands in front of Satoru, his face still flushed and breath still heaving.

"Should we get plan b?"

"Why the hell would we do that?"

You're watching...

© Peached TV 2023

[hoshifighting]

Hear me out, you have a crush on SVT (following them around, giving them gifts etc) but one day you stop doing that and start ignoring them, how do they react!??

when you start to ignore them — seventeen a your crush

hyung line / maknae line

seungcheol doesn’t notice right away. at first, he thinks you’re just having an off day—maybe you're busy, maybe you’re just tired, but then a few days pass, and the silence starts to feel heavy. no more small gifts, no more lingering smiles when you catch his eye. nothing.

he can’t stand it. seungcheol’s the type to act tough, but the way you suddenly stopped all your little gestures? it eats at him. “what the fuck,” he mutters under his breath when you pass him by, not even sparing a glance. his chest tightens. you’ve always been there, always giving him attention, and now… nothing?

he texts you once, just a casual “you good?” but when you leave him on read, something snaps in him. you’re ignoring him on purpose. the next time he sees you, he grabs your wrist, pulling you into an empty hallway. “what’s your problem?” his voice is sharp, but there’s a hint of desperation in it. “did i do something? why are you acting like i don’t exist?”

he doesn’t get it—why you stopped. he misses the attention, misses you, and for the first time, he feels vulnerable, wondering if he pushed you away without even realizing it.

jeonghan notices the shift immediately. he's always been sharp, always able to read people. when you stop following him around, when you stop trying to make him smile with little gifts or compliments, he can feel the change in the air.

at first, he finds it amusing. “oh, so you're playing hard to get now?” he teases, half-expecting you to blush and laugh it off, but you don’t. you just shrug and walk away. and for once, jeonghan doesn’t have a quick comeback. it starts to bother him, more than he’d like to admit. the absence of your attention leaves a strange void. he used to roll his eyes when you'd bring him coffee or leave him little notes, but now? he catches himself looking for them.

he corners you one day, that sly smile on his face, but his eyes give him away. “did you get bored of me already?” he tries to joke, but his voice wavers, just enough for you to notice. when you don’t answer, he steps closer, his fingers brushing against yours. “i miss you,” he admits quietly, his smirk fading. “don’t you miss me too?”

joshua pretends not to care at first. he’s good at hiding his feelings, always calm, always collected. when you stop showering him with attention, he tells himself it’s fine, maybe even a relief.

but it’s not.

he starts to overthink—did he say something wrong? did he push you away? the questions spiral in his head, and soon enough, he’s analyzing every interaction the two of you ever had. one evening, when you pass by without so much as a glance, something in him cracks. “hey,” he calls out, his voice a little too soft, a little too careful. when you turn around, he hesitates, trying to find the right words.

“did i do something wrong?” his voice is small, almost vulnerable. “you used to… i mean, we used to…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck, awkwardly searching for the right way to say he misses you. he doesn’t want to come off as needy, but the truth is, he misses your attention more than he thought he would. “just… talk to me. please.”

jun doesn't know what to do with the silence. he's never been great with words, always a bit awkward, but he’s used to you being there. used to your constant presence, your gifts, your smiles. so when you stop, he feels lost. he tries to act normal, tries to laugh it off like it doesn’t bother him, but it does. it really, really does.

one day, after you’ve ignored him for too long, he blurts it out. “did i do something to piss you off?” it’s blunt, but that’s all he knows how to be. his eyes are wide, his hands fidgeting as he waits for your response. “you used to… i don’t know, you used to care.” his voice cracks at the end, and he quickly looks away, embarrassed by how desperate he sounds.

he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know what went wrong, but he wants your attention back. he misses it, misses you, and it’s killing him that he doesn’t know how to get you to care again.

soonyoung’s never been good at subtle. when he likes someone, everyone knows. and he thought it was the same with you. you were always there, always laughing at his dumb jokes, bringing him snacks after practice, and just hanging around, like you couldn’t get enough of him. but now? you’re distant. cold, even. no more gifts, no more texts, and it’s driving him up the wall.

“are you mad at me?” he asks one day, voice unsure, eyes wide with that puppy-dog look that usually works on everyone. you just shake your head. “no, everything’s fine.” but he knows it’s not. everything’s changed, and he hates it. soonyoung’s the kind of guy who thrives on attention, and without yours, he feels off-balance, like something’s missing. he doesn’t know how to fix it, and the more he tries, the worse it seems to get.

he starts showing off more, trying harder to make you laugh, but nothing works. and it’s fucking with him, making him doubt himself in ways he never has before. because he liked the way you made him feel, and now that it’s gone, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

jihoon is another one who pretends he doesn’t care. he’s always been good at that—keeping his emotions locked up tight, never letting anyone get too close. but you? you somehow slipped through the cracks. you were always there, bringing him coffee when he worked late, leaving notes on his desk with dumb doodles or stupid jokes that made him smile when no one was looking.

now it’s like you’ve disappeared. you’re still around, sure, but you don’t bother with him anymore. no more coffee, no more notes. nothing. he tells himself it’s for the best. that it’s better this way, less distracting. but deep down, it stings. because he liked having you around, more than he’d ever admit. one night, he stays late, hoping you’ll show up like you always used to. when you don’t, he feels a pang of disappointment in his chest. he hates it. hates how much he misses you. he sends you a text, something short and casual: “you haven’t been around much lately.” when you don’t respond, he stares at his phone, frustrated. he throws his head back, closing his eyes. “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, wondering when he got so attached to your presence.

he watches you sometimes, sees you talking to other people, laughing like everything’s fine, and it makes something twist in his chest. he wants to ask you why, but he’s too stubborn, too proud to admit that it’s bothering him. so he stays quiet, burying himself in his work, trying to forget the way it felt to have your attention. but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake the feeling that something’s missing.

wonwoo doesn’t say anything at first. he’s quiet, observant, and he notices right away when you stop hanging around, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up.

he tells himself he’s fine with it, that maybe it’s for the best. but then he realizes how much he actually looked forward to your little gifts, your presence. he misses the way you’d light up when you saw him, the way you’d try to get his attention in your own subtle way. when you start ignoring him, it feels… empty.

one day, he finds himself walking up to you, his hands in his pockets, trying to act casual. “you’ve been avoiding me,” he says, his voice soft but direct. “did something happen?” there’s a sincerity in his eyes that’s hard to miss. “i… i miss you. i don’t know why you stopped, but…” he hesitates, glancing down before meeting your gaze again. “i liked having you around. i still do.” he doesn’t push for answers, but the quiet hope in his voice says it all. he just wants you back.

[rebelliousstories]

Different Time

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Blood and Violence, Strong Language, Happy Endings

Word Count: 2,358

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Being dragged into the Void by your good buddy Wade was not how you imagined to be spending your days after your lover had died.

A single card was fixed between her fingers as she walked behind the other two people on their journey. There was silence all around the trio as they walked through the field. She did not pay attention to what was being said, nor did she care very much. If it was of any importance to her, they would let her know.

Before she knew what was going on, a dog was running straight for them. But the man with long, flowing locks that was running behind made her finger tingle with energy. After Deadpool and the Wolverine ahead of her did not move to attack the man, she let that energy fizzle out. Not that it would have done much damage anyways. It was getting harder and harder to remember what it was like. And yet, she could see it so clearly in her mind; the first time he had shown her what he could do.

“So what can you do exactly? You just throw cards at people?”

“Nah, cher,” his hands came up to hold a card between his fingers, “is much more den dat. I charge da playin’ cards wit energy. And den dey go boom.” His chuckle followed shortly afterwards.

“Is that so huh?” She chuckled as well. But the man just smiled, and wrapped his arms around her anyways.

“See is like dis, cher. Watch and learn.”

With his arms around her, he held an ace of hearts. Flicking it in the air caused a pink glow to encompass it. She giggled as he swiped the card from the sky, and touched it to her skin. The resulting kinetic energy made her entire body jolt, but the man kept her grounded as it flowed through each and every muscle.

“Feel dat, cher?” His breath fanned across her cheek as she rested against his chest. Once she had recovered, she held her hand and felt the card laid in her palm. Flipping it over through her fingers, she managed to produce a glow and a light crackling energy field around the object.

“Atta girl, cher.” A kiss was laid upon her cheek, and she felt the day old scruff rub against the crook of her neck.

“You comin’, bub?” A gruff voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Snapping into reality, the three men in front of her were looking like they were off to go somewhere.

“Apologies,” came her reply.

“Did we just miss some exposition about you? I feel like we just missed a vital flashback into your tragic backstory. Besides, I would like to find out what you do exactly. We’ve never gotten a clear answer. You just sort of do everything, like Taylor Swift.” Wade was having none of her dismissal.

“What are you talking about?” She was utterly confused, but Logan waved the red menace of off.

“Don’t pay him any mind. Come on, let’s go.” They all made the trek out to the dense corn that housed an old Honda Odyssey, which made the merc in red pitch a hissy fit.

“Get in the fucking car.” Logan snapped at Wade, utterly feed up with his antics. Before being prompted, she threw open the side door and climbed n the back. She watched as Deadpool tried to run off with the sweet little pup that had found them, but Wolverine put a very fast stop to that. Defeated, Wade climbed in the passenger seat, while Logan went in the driver’s, and they were off.

Somewhere along the way, she must have dozed off. That was the only explanation for the memory she was experiencing right now. Except, she was not exactly experiencing it as t had happened. No, she was watching it from an outsider’s perspective.

The first thing she saw, was a dingy old motel room floor. And the next, was laughing. Looking up, she saw them. It was her, and her beau play fighting on the bed of the motel room.

“Now, you know bettah den to play dirty, cher. Ain’t no coyon, ya know?” Her lover had trapped her arms to her body, and was smiling as big as ever. Plush lips stretched across his face. Hazel eyes twinkled brightly.

“Didn’t hear you complaining about me playing dirty last night,” she teased. Turning in his arms, she looked up at her lover with nothing but adoration.

“Well, Gambit seems to remember you not complainin’ neither.” His lips came down onto hers.

Watching from her spot near the dresser, the future her could still feel the wonderful pressure of their kiss. Tracing her fingers over her own, melancholy filled her heart. He looked so alive in this moment. A moment that she cherished with her whole being.

“Ahh!”

Something far less pleasant awoke her this time from her thoughts. One of Wade’s knives had lodged itself in her shin. Blood steadily poured itself from the wound. And the world fell still for a moment. Raising her eyes, she felt herself shaking in anger and pain as Deadpool met her gaze.

“Oh no. Oh, I am so sorry.” He wheezed. But it was too late.

Her other leg raised and kicked him hard in the head. While he was disoriented, her mind contorted the blade that was in his hands; even the hand that was holding the knife began to bend and break. Holding her knee, she made herself fall through the car and onto the ground below.

“Where’d she go? Magic woman.” She heard Deadpool exclaim loudly. It was followed by a growl and a squeak. And the car started to rock with the force that they were going at each other.

Rolling to her right, she got out from underneath the vehicle before someone sent a blade through to her again. Releasing her leg, she crawled on her belly over to a tree that was still facing the car. Her forearms were covered in dirt and leaves now, as were the entire lower half of her body. While keeping an eye on the Odyssey, she worked to remove her boots and rolled up the pants from her injured leg. She could see the wound eventually and worked to clear her mind.

Regenerating always took a lot from her. It took a lot physically and mentally from her, but she could get it done. Groans slipped from her lips as she could feel her skin, muscles, and even veins being to stitch themselves together. A scar was all that was left in the place of the stab wound. The woman rested against the large piece of wood behind her and watched through blackening vision as both men were thrown through the car, and jumped back in with fervor.

That was the image that she passed out to. That was the last thing in the real world that she saw. She was not sure how much time had passed between her passing out, and when she woke up. But she immediately recognized that she was not where she was before. There were stone walls all around her, and she was lying down on a bed. Before sitting up, she looked and could see Logan with a bottle of liquor to her right.

Voices were muffled all around her. She could not pin point a specific one, but something felt off. Like someone or something was there, and how that was supposed to make her feel, she did not know. Groaning, she sat up and caught the attention of everyone else that was talking. One person much more than anyone else. A familiar drawl called out her name, and her body filled with dread. Footsteps came closer, and the muffs came off from her ear.

“Cher, that you?” Her heart sped up and it felt like it was beating out of her chest. A hand came to her shoulder, but she was not having whatever weird illusion this was. Grabbing whoever’s wrist this was, she used her body weight and center of gravity to pivot the person onto their back on the floor beside the bed she was on.

Staring down, her heart stopped. This was her beau. Remy was staring up at her with wide eyes. Letting out a shaking breath, her hands let go of the man as if he had burned her and stood upon shaking legs. The man on the ground was not doing much better than her. He stood just as quickly, and looked at the woman just the same.

“Oh, thank you Lord. It is you.” He whispered, taking a step closer. But her hand shot up to stop him from getting closer.

“Don’t. Who the hell are you? And what are you doing with that suit on?” She demanded, and watched the confusion sink in.

“Cher, it’s me. It’s your Gambit. I’m jus’ wonderin’ how in da hell you here now.” Remy breathed.

“Oh my god!” Everyone’s attention was brought to Deadpool who was wide eyed in his mask. “This is your tragic backstory. You and him…”

“I need some air.” She turned on her heels, and phased through her wall till she was outside in the forest. Outside, she tried to draw in a deep breath, but found her body starting to seize. Everything got too much. Shaky limbs and sweaty palms found themselves crashing onto the forest floor. She tried to breathe in again but only managed half a breath. Her heart was beating out of her chest. The world began to spin.

“Ay, ay, you alright, cher. Come ‘ere. Let’s settle on down now, ya.” Thick arms encompassed her. They grounded her back to reality. As Remy kept whispering soothing words, she felt her world come back into focus. Her heart slowed down and was now moving at a steady rhythm. She was following Remy’s lead on her breaths; in through the nose for four, hold for four, out for four. Her arms and legs were soothing themselves out and she was able to wipe off her palms onto the legs of her suit.

“Dat’s a good girl, now. Ain’t no reason to be like dat. Just a little frightenin’ is all. Didn’ mean to.” He was apologizing for scaring her? After she had thrown him to the ground and walked out on everyone? Those arms felt so familiar and comforting; she did not want to move rom them. But she had to face this man. She had to know. Turning, her eyes finally came up close and personal with the man that had introduced himself as Gambit, Remy LeBeau.

“You good now, cher? Feelin’ a little bettah?” Even after all of this, he was still so caring.

“Yeah. How are you alive?” She whispered, tracing her eyes over every inch of his face like this was the last time she was going to see it. Because it just might.

“I been wonderin’ da same thing. Don’t know how long I been in dis here Void, but you was gone long before I got here.” One of his hands came up and pet her head so very softly.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” Her attempt at a joke made the Cajun chuckle as well. Sure, both of their laughs were tinged with sadness, but they were laughing together again.

“Well, I uh-” he stammered, trying to find the right words, “was out playin’ cards. Got a feelin’ dat somethin’ was wrong. Went back to the apartment we was stayin’ in. And you… you were gone when I got there. Tracked down who had killed ya, and it turned out to be my ol’ thievin’ ring. Didn’ like da fact dat we was ‘bout to get outta da game apparently. Da hardest thing Remy ever done was buryin’ you. Easiest was killin’ da sons o’ bitches dat took you from me.”

Silence enveloped them as the weight of his words sunk in.

“Something very similar happened in my timeline.” She replied, watching as he seemed to going through the same emotions she was.

“We were on our way back from a mission for Xavier. You and I were with Jean, Scott, and Storm. God, she was making so many jokes about how she was the fifth wheel on that mission and we were making it worse for her. Anyways, we got ambushed by the Brotherhood. We were actually taking out a good chunk of them, but Sabertooth got the drop on you. You bled out in my arms on the way back to the mansion. You had me promise not to do anything rash in the aftermath, but it was difficult.”

Tears welled in both of their eyes. Both of them mourning a love and life lost in tragic fashion. Remy pulled her in close, and she breathed in deeply. That familiar leather and musk scent blended with the fresh air outside. She just wanted that scent bottled up and kept with her at all times.

“So it seems to ol’ Gambit dat we both lost our other half. Maybe you was supposed to be the one that completed my deck, cher.” Her head raised and her eyebrow as she turned to look at the man in confusion.

“You’ve got an incomplete deck,” came her question. She began feeling around for a pocket in her jacket that was directly over her heart.

“Jus’ missin’ one card. Whatchu lookin’ for?” He questioned, letting her move around freely.

“Get your deck out,” his eyebrows raised. “Your card deck, Gambit. Humor me.”

“Whatevea you say, cher.”

The duo shifted until their respective items were grabbed. Remy produced a deck of cards and quickly rearranged them to be in card order. Her card was in between her first two fingers. As Gambit sifted through his deck, he stopped right where a card was missing. And as she revealed what was in her hands, the two suddenly looked at each other with love and tears. Her ace of hearts was missing from his deck, but he had finally found it again. It was a different time, different place, even a different person, but it was the same love that spanned the multiverse.

[strab3rr]

(long story and no short sorry) GUYSSS I DID ITT

I INDUCED IT!!!!! I WAS PURE AS A FUCKING BABY

IDK WHAT TO SAY (ok enough w capslock)

i have so much to say and not a thing at da same time idk how

anyway i want to begin with thanking you @b4ddprincess bc youre the reason i realized why i started this thing. thank you for making my life better and make me realized what i need to do: nothing. (its same for you guys, all u have to do is nothing)

two fuckn years ago i said to myself that i need a better life, quiter life, less fight with everthing bc everything was so loud and not clear i was feeling lost like a child in the market, and i wanted to make things better for myself in every way, but the main idea of my reasons to wanting to get in the void was: making anxiety go and having better people in my life. but the ''voidlist'' just never stopped bc im kinda greedy(having the idea of controling on your life, the idea of that power makes you greedy. yes thats a thing) anyway the more i add to the list the more i feel like im movin away from my desires then i feel depressed bc ive overcomplicating it bc theres so many things to do but i dont do anything so nothing happend bc i was waiting to be someth happen. and then i started doing awkwardly silly things such as: void routines and challenges and (im embarrassed of this one bc i was too desperate) drinking water

youve read it correct drinking water.

i was sooo desperate for having those things id do anything to get them.

i am simple. i want what everyone wants🎀🎀🎀: shifting realities bc i have so many crush and i need them to be crush me in bed(for 2020 girlies)

being an academic weapon is so easy for me🎀(bc of the urge to make my family proud) +dream collage

being the girl that everyone gets along w(basic needs)

being the girl who is pretty not cute(trauma response)

glowing aura(cats loves people w glowing aura yes thats a thing too)

dream body n hair(bc i deserve this🎀)

healthy (girlyfriend)friends(basic needs)

and of course him, my sp(i cant tell wich one at that time but i releived that its not him now, bc MY BELOVED CURRENT BF. guyss he is the one. dont u dare ask me how you know? i literally manifested him🎀)

then i realized i can have everything bc its my reality so why not add these:

new phone, +macbook air

dream apartment of my own

pinterest closet

lifa app for this reality

financially free-money(a lot. like really a lot)

knowing 4 languages like a native person(bc i want to be diplomat so bad) +sign language(its in general)

a little drama(its not gonna hurt anybody)

my parents being more lovable and away from me

every time i try to get in, either i was failing or falling

and im sick of it, sick of it so much i quit.(for a year)

then i go to the theraphy(ofc no im jk ilove being crazy)

one day i saw a post ss from tumblr about pure consciousness on pinterest and i was like whaat is thiiss. no mention of void so i thougt its a diffrent thing and i download the tumblr again and search everything abt it. and same excitement again after one year same thougts and same list popes up in my head. and i was like ok maybe this time itll happen.

still waiting to be someth happen so nothing happend, it was such a waste of time trying to get in while i was already be, i was already what i want to become. i was that girl that everyone gets along with but i couldnt even see bc i was too focused on wanting to be. but still tried every night and failed. and again tried-failed-quit circle bc.. have you ever met me🎀

4 month ago i saw the girl, iconic blogger and the goddess of my dreams, her @b4ddprincess thx again love u so much

a post pops in my fyp and i see the words ''pure consciousness'' i was like noo not again. and i was serious abt it i wasnt gonna read the whole thing but it attract me n i couldnt resist it so ive read it from the top to the bottom. and she got my interest so i stalked her page from the last and to the first post. it was quiet a beautiful journey for me. lasted like 3 days, the end of the 3rd day i was ''woaw it was this easy all along? u cant be serious.'' she was. i tried one last time, no breathing exercise, no ridiculous routines and no waiting something to be happen. it was just me being real me chilling out asf.

and it was this easy and it should be this easy bc being your 4d self is being nothing also being everything at the same time. if u wanna be everything you should be nothing first(as wizardliz saying: drop the old story, leave the victimhood, for being better stop being bitter etc.)u should make a space for everything first and then u can be everything.

for being 4d self of yours stop being your3dself.

sooo long story (no)short i am writing this from my mac in my new apartment(in middle of the night bc i couldnt sleep and then one tumblr notification reminded me i have a success story to share too) and my phone buzzing two minutes a time bc of my friends while im writing this, so if theres anything wrong ignore it pls.

oh u asking my bf how cute, hes sleepin in my bed now, exhausted from the work n school balance.

YWS SCHOOL!! im in my dream collage and im going to be in paris for a week. i deserve a vacation i guess(its for another conference), i kinda hate french men bc theyre so mansplaning(not like how i imagined, its hard to be friends w them)girls are cute but i feel like theyre aware im not permanent there so we just con buddies still cute and hepful for this foreigner.

and i canceled the lifa app thingy bc i can be my purest consciousness anytime i want, so i am my lifa app.

and thx to 4 languages i make a lot of money and that brings us to the pinterest closet, yesterday i realiased that. theyre not comes to me w an imaginary way like i imagined! i go outside for shopping casually and theyre there luckily i have enough money to buy them.

and my family theyre living in our hometown now so as i want it to be, we are away from eachother.

and the most magical thing: SHIFTING REALITIESSS

i did 5 world before i met w my bf. it was such a wonderful experience. if you have doubts abt shifting you can go fuck urself

because sir i did it and i am very sure that dean winchester being my husband is not a daydream, fantasy nor lucid dreaming. believe it or not he kissed me GOD HE KİSSED ME(someone should stop me i have a bf)

is there anything i missed let me see.. cats i have 2 cats now and theyre adorable. glowing aura-check

the girl who is pretty not cute- check +make anxietygo-checkcheckcheck

dream body and hair- check and check

i wanna give u a info i didnt have all my desires by being my4dself

not directly actually. but i have them all. and thats the point.

im not trying to be a blogger but if you have any question abt anything, id be happy to help

now i need to upgrade things in my farm byeess

loves, siena.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

In the back of the Honda (Deadpool)

Description: Y/N and Wade fuck in the back of the Honda

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,346k

Request: can we have a deadpool smut in the suit ?

Being in the void with Wade and Logan wasn’t so fun after all. Y/N thought that they would be a good team and could take on the world but she was wrong. All they kept doing was fighting and it was starting to piss her off. At first it was funny but now? After dealing with Nova, it was annoying. “Guys can you be serious for once?” She asked but they ignored her. Logan seemed to hate Wade’s guts especially after hearing that the promise Wade made was bullshit and that it wasn’t guaranteed to save his universe.

He said some pretty hurtful things but Y/N got his pain. “Y/N my dear, step out of the car.” He told her while staring at Logan through the mask. She didn’t question it and got out just for a fight to break out moments later. Wade and Logan flew out of the car multiple times and she looked unimpressed each time. She just wanted to be home with Wade but of course this happened. “Alright!” She yelled walking back up to the car. “Stop fighting!” She yelled and they both looked at her.

“I’m so sick of this! We need to come up with a plan instead of violence.” Being the voice of reason wasn’t easy when it came to these two. “You’re right.” Logan said and Wade agreed. Y/N smiled at the two, happy that she got her way. She turned around for a second and a fight broke out again. “WADE!”

Y/N yawned as she got up and realized that they weren’t in the Honda anymore but in a cabin? She looked over to see Logan drinking and Wade was still asleep. “Hey babe, wake up .” She shook him. “Thor!” She looked at him confused, “Were you dreaming about Thor?” She asked with a laugh.

“No. Maybe I- Where are we?” He asked, looking around. “I don’t know but I like it.” Logan smirked, holding up the liquor. Y/N got off the bed to examine the place. Wade followed her until he got knocked down by some woman. Y/N stepped back and saw who it was. Elektra. Her eyes widened and Wade got up. Blade had walked in next and then some random foreign guy. “The Gambit.” His accent was hot. “Who is this fine lady?” He asked walking up to Y/N. Wade had stepped in front of her, “Listen here friendo she is mine, okay?” Y/N chuckled at his jealousy and pushed him aside to shake the guy’s hand. “Y/N and yeah he’s my boyfriend.” Wade smiled under his mask at her words. X23 came out and it was Logan’s daughter which should have been emotional but since Logan doesn’t know her, it’s not? 

“Well we came out alive.” Y/N said and shivered at the memory of Nova’s fingers in her head. The others figured after hearing that, that they should give it a shot besides Logan. “You’re all fucking dead.” He said and though Y/N agreed with him, they couldn’t stay there forever. 

Y/N and Wade sat in the Honda as Logan talked to Laura. “Beautiful isn’t it?” He asked. “What is? The Honda?” Y/N knew that Wade hated this car and the fact that it’s all they have made it kinda funny. “Yeah, I mean it fucks hard.” Y/N looked at him, confused. “Fucks hard?” He nods and turns to her, “Watch this.” He said and got in the backseat.

He spread himself out and patted his lap. She felt herself get wet at that and climbed to the back with him. “Get on my lap kitten. Daddy’s gonna show you why this car fucks hard.” He told her and she did. His hands traveled up her body and to her tits, giving them a squeeze.

He watched her lightly gasp and closed her eyes. His hands moved down to her ass and he slapped it hard. “Fuck.” She groaned but loved it. His hands moved to her front and slipped in her leggings, “No panties you naughty girl.” He says and runs a finger over her clit. He didn’t take off his gloves so the feeling was new but she liked it. “Wade fuck.” She whined as his movements sped up on her pussy. His other hand sneaks in her leggings and circles her hole, “You are soaked, baby girl.” Even through the glove he could tell.

“Wade please.” She begged him and he stuck a finger in her tight pussy. He chuckled at the sound of her wet pussy. She threw her head back as he started to finger fuck her. One finger wasn’t enough so he added another. “Look at you, my pretty girl. All fucked out from just my fingers.” His words made her moan and she bucked her hips. His fingers were at a brutal pace now.

He slipped his hand that was rubbing her clit all the way up to her mouth. Her lips closed around his gloved fingers and sucked all her juices off it while moaning. “That’s a pretty girl.” He says and her hips start fucking his fingers. He was bold enough to add another finger in her causing her to nearly scream. He chuckled and removed his fingers from her mouth before going down to rub her clit again.

His glove was wet with her salvia and she whined at the feeling. It wasn’t too long before her pussy was fluttering on his fingers, “Are you close?” He asked and she nodded. She couldn’t form words besides his name. Her breathing turned to panting and she felt herself right on the edge when Wade stopped. He pulled his hands out of her leggings and she glared at him.

“We are making this car rock baby girl.” He tells her and pulls down his pants. She manages to remove her leggings and gets back on his lap. “Are you removing the mask?” She asked him and he shakes his head, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you in this suit.” He states and pulls her down so that his dick is right at her hole. “Oh fuck I can feel you dripping on me.” She smirks and slowly takes him in. He sucks in a breath and she gasps as he stretches her out.

“You look so beautiful taking my cock.” He says and she fully sits in his lap. His hands go to her hips and he slowly drags her on his cock. “Mmmm Wade.” She moans as he moves her on him. The pace was brutally slow so she started bouncing on him, actually making the car move. “Fuck yeah baby. Ride my cock.” He says and she moans. One of his hands moves up her shirt to one of her nipples.

She gasps at the feeling of him playing with it and throws her head back, “Shit. Wade, that’s gonna make me cum.” She warned and her pussy started fluttering around his dick. “Fuck sweetheart. You doing that’s gonna make me explode.” He breathed out. “Doggy style?” She asked and got off him. They quickly got in the position.

He slides himself back inside of her and she moans. He doesn’t waste time and starts fucking her again. His hands on her hips and hers gripping the car seat. The car was hot and the window’s became foggy. She placed one of her hands on the window as he never stopped ramming into her.

“Wade, I'm close again.” She warned and her breathing got heavier again. “Trust me baby. I can feel it.” He groaned and slapped her ass. She cried his name at that and he chuckled, “Cum for me baby.” He said and her eyes rolled back. A silent scream left her mouth as she felt herself cream his dick. “I’m cumming, fuck.” Wade whined as his hips stilled and his cum mixed with hers. “Mmmm fuck.” She said as he pulled out. She turned around and collapsed on the seat with him. She turns to look at him and smiles, “You’re right. The Honda Odyssey does fuck hard.” 

[dreaming-tonite]

The Necessity of Old-School Dating

— A relationship should start with flowers and a proper confession.

A/N: I just finished x-men 97 and my crush on Kurt when I was like 15 came back in full force. Like, you cannot tell me this man would not go to lengths trying to charm you.

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x reader

Warning: (1) German pet name in the feminine form that hopefully will not ruin this for any German speakers

Word count: ~1.5k

When Kurt Wagner was in love with you, the entire world would know.

He had a lot of love to give, knocking people off their feet (quite literally) when he made his sudden appearances and tackled his friends with full-body hugs. But with you, he was always more careful. While he made no hesitation in finding his way to you in a puff of purple smoke the second he saw you, he always landed just a step away from you.

He grinned ear to ear, glowing eyes curled into thin moons just at the sight of you. His body leaned towards you slightly, aching to be close to you but restraining himself until you reached out for him first. The heat radiating off his body tempted you to close your eyes and allow your mind to sink into his embrace when he immediately pulled you in after getting the go-ahead.

“It is good to see you.” His voice was soft in your ear, the vibrations from his chest seeping into your skin.

He made sure to tell you that every time, even though he must be aware that you already knew how often he told you that. But to him, it was important that you hear it from him.

Kurt never pulls away until you do and the lingering of his touch on your back when he does always leaves your skin tingling.

A true gentleman but with a trickster’s spirit nonetheless. Your back bumped into his anticipating tail, respectfully curved around your form. You gasped when it presented you with a bunch of flowers that he seemingly pulled out of nowhere, the end of his tail holding at the stems.

“Oh, you really shouldn’t have,” you sheepishly said, “today is not even anything special!”

“I like that they make you happy,” he mused, his gaze so soft that it made your face burn, “is that not enough of a reason?”

“They make me very happy,” you smiled and took the bouquet, his tail gently recoiling from behind you to sit neatly against its owner. You pressed the flowers against your chest, the faint scent of petals tucking at your senses, “Thank you, Kurt.”

You did not remember a moment when your room was void of flowers since the very first time he ever gave you any (in fact, you did not even have a vase before that and now it was reserved specifically for flowers he brought you). Some days it was a properly wrapped bouquet, some times it seemed he just saw a daisy on his way and plucked it when he thought of you.

It was a fluttering feeling to be treated special, to have someone show you that you were always on their mind. As much as it was a sweet gesture, it sure was a smart one too. Flowers sitting at the corner of your room reminded you of him whenever your gaze flickered towards them, and it brought a smile to your face whether you intended to or not.

("That brother of mine sure got you smitten for him, doesn't he?"

The sugar-sweet voice broke you out of your trance and you subconsciously stopped toying with the daffodil you had been twirling between your fingers. "I have no idea what you are talking about," you quipped, avoiding Anna-Marie's amused stare.

"Why, is that so?" she crossed her arms in front of her chest in fake thoughtfulness before it broke into a smirk, "Then care to explain what is so special about some little flower that it got you smiling like a fool?"

Your eyes went wide, the smile on your face that you weren't even aware was there dropping in an instant as the realisation hit you in full force.

"Sugar," she said, a loop-sided grin tucked at the corner of her lips, "I know the look of someone in love when I see one.")

They said that if their heart was in the right place then you would never doubt, and he made sure that his intentions were clear from the very moment you caught his eye.

He remembered things you said in passing, asked you to go out for dinners and subtly took note of items your eyes lingered on when you passed by store windows even before there was a proper label to your connection.

Kurt always managed to find excuses to take the long route when he walked with you back to the school. Sure, he could, and usually would, skip the unnecessary process of walking. But the minutes that were saved would be a waste of precious time he could spend with you.

The world was quiet and all was good in these rare moments when you were alone, talking about nothing and everything and all that fell between. He fell a little bit more in love every time you laughed as if his heart was not already threatening to burst out of his chest. He preened in moments like this, standing a little taller and a little closer to you until your shoulders nearly bumped with each slow stride.

And if the knuckle of your fingers happened to brush against his, then he would allow himself to be a bit bold under the disguise of the starry sky to hold your hand.

Kurt was a true believer in the importance of proper courting, putting in the effort and letting the effort be felt. But as much as he enjoyed the tip-toeing and the words that were left unsaid, there came moments when the passion was too much to bear.

It was a night much like any other. You had thought that things were going well, there was laughter and he was being his usual charming self until the two of you started heading back. Under the silver moonlight, he was... quiet. Your gaze flickered towards him in concern but seemingly, he was too deep in his thoughts to notice.

So instead of speaking, you reached for his hand and his walls came crumbling down.

"I wanted to take things slow so that you could consider if my affections, my— my love is worthy for you." He blurted out, accent thicker than usual in a moment of vulnerability. "But recently, I have been plagued by my own selfishness, that the more you have allowed me in your life, the more I crave to have you all to myself."

"Ah, entschuldige, I am rambling," he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling and guiding your hand so that he faced you properly. You reached out to hold his face and he leaned into the touch, sighing in content at the contact and all the more certain that close could never be close enough when it came to you.

"I like to think that any relationship, any romance, should start with flowers and a proper confession, and you deserve nothing less." he paused, his hand reaching up to hold yours firmly. "My heart is in your hands, mein liebe."

Time stopped, and all was still.

The thudding of your heart was the only thing in your ear as he waited for your answer with bated breath.

The first touch was so light he could barely feel it. Your body reacted before your mind could keep up and at the first brush of your cupid's bow against his lips, perhaps the bravest thing you had ever done even though you had been on literal battlefields, your reason immediately got ahold of the better of you. But before you could start to pull away, doubt and logic melted into a puddle when he crashed into you, strong arms holding you firmly as he returned the kiss with one much deeper than the one before.

He kissed you again, and again, getting light-headed when you pressed your palm flat against his chest and kissed him back every single time.

You gasped when you suddenly felt the ground disappearing from under your feet, purple smoke blurring your vision and your feet stumbling when gravity weighted you down once more. Kurt didn't seem to notice it at all, too drunk in having your body flushed against his.

Bamf, bamf, bamf. You nearly stumbled when you landed one last time, his hand finding its way to hold you by the small of your back before you could fall.

He was out of breath and if you could see under the blue fur of his cheeks you were sure he must be blushing like mad. Still heaving, he pressed his forehead against yours.

"Forgive me, I lost control of myself," he closed his eyes, the tip of his nose touching yours, "you have no idea how happy you make me."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you decided that a proper confession deserved a proper answer.

"I love you," you said, "it would be a blessing to call you mine."

He chuckled before leaning in once more, this time soft and tender.

"And me, yours."

[willowedspirits]

Hollow Knight Linked Universe AU! I've finally finished it!

If you don't know much about Hollow Knight, a lot of the technicalities might not make sense, and I would encourage you to look into the game. Or you could just enjoy the chain as bugs and see them off on their buggy adventures!

I've made this AU trying to keep as close as I can to Hollow Knight's story, but some creative liberties were of course taken.

My main idea is that the infection is the equivalent to Dark Link's (who does exist in this) infected monsters and it's up to them to try and slow/stop the infection. My first thought was to have the infection start to spread outside of Hallownest, and the chain needs to go and stop it, but I'm still going back and forth on it.

I'm still open to changing concepts if I find something that works better, but after literal months of working on this on and off I'm happy with how this has turned out!

Rambling about character details below!

Small note: I've set this AU at roughly the start of the infection, when Radiance was starting to take over Hallownest.

Time

Is not from Hallownest. He traveled to Hallownest from a distant land, where he met Malon and settled down with her.

He encountered Radiance upon entering Hallownest, but was protected by a god that had already laid claim to him, Fierce Deity, who protects him from the Radiance's infection.

He and Malon live in the Howling Cliffs.

His wing and antenna injury are from Radiance when she tried to infect him.

He is not able to fly because of the injury, and now fights with a heavy nail.

His wings used to be green, but after encountering the Fierce Deity, they slowly started to change in color until they were blue.

I'm not sure if I would do anything with the eyes on his wings, I was trying to make a connection to Majora in that, but I'm still debating whether to add it.

Twilight

Is a part of the Traitor Mantis tribe that lives in the Queen's Garden.

He met a Sibling (Midna) that escaped from the Abyss. They gave him the ability to harness Void.

Still working on the detail for how exactly they give him this ability, but my rough idea is that perhaps both of them were attacked by and infected villager, and they saved him by giving up their Void essence.

He's grown up wanting to be infected by the Radiance. He was taught the Radiance was a god that gave bugs great strength, but after seeing what the infection really does, he starts to have second thoughts.

The cloak he is wearing is new. The one he wore before was damaged. I'm still debating on when exactly he gets it, but I think it's something he makes after he leaves the traitor village.

Warriors

He is the head knight of the Hive and oversees whoever enters their territory.

His scarf is a gift from the princess of the Hive given to him when he leaves to join the group.

Since he is a bee, he is connected to the Hive via the hivemind. He uses this to check in on his home whenever he can.

This also makes it very dangerous if he gets infected, since it would quickly spread to the other bee's.

I kept his nail the same as Hive Knight's, but it's open to change.

Four

(I'm still very iffy on Four's story concept, but here's what I have so far)

Lives in Green Path.

He has a passion for weapon smithing, and planned on moving to the capital of Hallownest (City of Tears).

But he accidently stumbled on a weak Unn, and agreed to help protect her while she recovered.

When she did recover, she blessed him with a power that allows him to split into 4 parts of himself using his SOUL.

He can split while in the physical world, but will always be split while in the Dream realm. This also makes it difficult for Radiance to infect him.

Wind

Lives in the Kingdom's Edge and works as a guide across the acid lakes. Most of the travelers are those who are seeking to fight in the Colosseum of Fools.

This is how he found the Colosseum, and regularly attends (but not participate in) some of the fights, which is how he meets Tetra.

He is just learning to fly, but is picking it up really fast.

I wanted to keep the lobster apart of his design... But there are no lobsters in Hollow Knight... Then I remembered this was an AU and I can do what I want with it. So lets just pretend that Lobsters are seen as these awesome ancient beings that he wishes to see one day.

Wild

He was a guardian of the Beast's Den before he became infected, leaving the Den to reside somewhere in Deep Nest.

He is cured by the Dream Nail when the group meets him, and the last to join.

His shell is cracked and damaged because of the infection. The cracks have healed over time, but will never go away.

He has trouble with his memory due to being infected for so long before being cured. He is slowly regaining his memory, but there are still a lot of pieces missing.

His infection spread through to his arm, but is hidden under his cloak.

He uses his nails almost as throwing needles.

Legend

Is a shop owner in Hallownest's capital. He sells all kinds of items from all across Hallownest, small things he's found that could be valuable.

He's managed to make his way into the upper class of the capital due to his shop. His cloak is a modified version of the upper-class wardrobe. He dyed and added the hood himself.

Has a great sense of exploration, and has been all over Hallownest, but still has some places he needs to check off.

His jewelry are all gifts from Ravio.

My original concept for his design was to give him 4 arms. I was thinking of the Collector when designing him, and thought it fit. But after working on finalizing the design, I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it. I still love the concept though.

Hyrule

(Again, I don't have a clear story concept for him but I have some notes)

Lives in the Ancient Basin.

Has learned how to use SOUL, and is in hiding from the residents of the Soul Sanctum because of it.

He has access to spells and is able to heal himself using SOUL.

I originally gave him a cloak, but couldn't decide if he looked better with or without it. So he does have it, but only sometimes.

Sky

Is the wielder of the Dream Nail, which can be used to cure infected bugs by purging the Radiance from their dream's.

Has wanted to learn to fight with a nail since he was little, and would practice his skills.

He learned about the Dream Nail after some of the moth tribe became infected. He left shortly after he learned this infection was spreading through Hallownest, with the goal of stopping it.

He isn't the only one that can use the Dream Nail, but is the one dubbed the "owner" of it.

And that's what I've got!

I didn't go much into Dark Link here, but would be happy to show some concepts I have for him as well if anybody is curious. I'm making him almost like a living version of the Radiance's infection, and is able to spread it from bug to bug without needing to access their dreams. This is mainly why I'm torn on having them leave Hallownest. If Dark Link could spread the infection to farther lands, or to keep him inside Hallownest and just spread it faster there.

I thought that using the Dream Nail was a good equivalent to the Master Sword here, so I just mashed them together, and a lot of the motivations for the chain trying to stop the infection is "I'm seeing this awful thing happen to these bugs that I don't want to see happen to others," with some small variations here and there.

I've been working on this for so long, I just want to share by bug boys. I would love to gush and ramble about them some more. I have stuff I want to do with this AU.

[ramblingautisticman]

Anyone else love the differences between movie and fanfiction?

Like, fanfiction for Wade and Logan usually has these things :

1) Logan hates the pet names.

2) He is constantly telling Wade to shut the fuck up.

3) Logan pushes away Wade's physical touch.

4) He pretends to hate the dog.

Now, in the movies. None of this happens. Logan doesn't tell Wade to stop the nicknames. Ever. Not once. Why would he? HE uses nicknames. He calls Scott Slim, he calls everyone else Bub, calls Rogue (movie Rogue) and Jubilee (Everything else) Kid. He uses nicknames all the time, so why would he tell Wade to stop it?

He doesn't tell Wade to shut up. Not really. He let's Wade ramble and talk for the whole movie, apart from before the dinner scene. That's the only scene where he actually tells him to "shut the fuck up". That's the only time he says that. In the car, Wade is trying to start a conversation. Logan tells him to not talk about the suit, but to talk about something else. He doesn't mind Wade talking. He lived in the mansion with fucking 100's of loud kids and (if he had a) Jubilee would talk his ear off.

LOGAN DOES NOT PUSH AWAY THE PHYSUCAL CONTACT FROM WADE ONCE. Not once. Not in the bar, not in the TVA, not in the void, not while they are fighting. Logan doesn't push him away when they land on top of eachother, even after Wade says "almost done" and he asks with what. Doesn't move an inch. He is the one that grabs Wade's hand (may I add that he grabs his hand first and not the anti-matter?) in the chamber. He doesn't care about physical touch between him and Wade. Hell, he probably liked it after being alone for so long.

Okay, pretending to hate the dog is kind of Canon. Kind of. Like, obviously be tells Wade they aren't taking the dog, but that's it. When given the Mary Puppins, he doesn't protest. Before he is going to leave he pets her, and in the apartment he is talking to Laura while messing with her hair. He doesn't hate the dog, and I'm telling you right now, Logan loves her just as much as Wade.

Obviously, I love all of these lil tropes in fanfiction and stuff, I just noticed that in the movie, basically none of these happen?? Which is hilarious to me, cause honestly? They feel like the should? But also, if you watch the X-Men movies and (in my case) some of '97, you realise that Logan uses nicknames, starts physical contact, likes animals AND usually hangs around people that talk alot. Also, him and Morph and similar to him and Wade. So why would he push Wade away or tell him to shut up when he didn't do that to Morph?.