#every time they find something new wrong with me

[sukunasweetheart]

hear me out on bully!sukuna okay...

warnings; highschool setting, DUBCON, dry humping, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, sex in a confined space, semi-public sex, breeding, sukuna is kinda mean but is a simp at the same time, groping, cum in panties, just lots and lots of cum, "just the tip" he lied, mentions of pregnancy risk, ?cheating, sukuna the toxic tsundere but is horrendously down bad and perverted, eventual or mildly submissive sukuna?, this isn't gonna be the healthiest relationship - but its to be expected tho bc its a bully fic so..

Word count; 5.5k

bully!sukuna bothers you because he has a weird complex with you - preferring to be outright hated by you rather than deal with indifference or facing possible rejection.

it's often teetering on the edge of actual bullying; his existence is more of a nuisance than a serious distress to you.

he often loves getting on your nerves by tripping you up with his foot, only to catch you himself, or he purposefully bumps into you in the hallways making you almost topple over - like the fucking asshole he is. and you'll never forget the time you happened to get paired up with him on an assignment and the bastard had the audacity to try and take you both down by not doing his part. in exchange for his participation, he had you carry his bag for him around school for a week...

and he only gets more thrilled the more you fight back or retaliate.

sukuna likes to call you names, often using very condescending and colourful insults against you. and he likes to harass and chase off any potential boyfriends that come your way. that last one pisses you off the most. you want a boyfriend so bad, and that bastard is being such a huge cockblock. god forbid a girl wants to get laid. all your friends have had their first times already - why can't you?!

and he's back at it again too, after finding out that another guy confessed to you at school today. you accepted it. obviously when he wasn't watching. for a damn reason.

he finds out your last class was P.E today and you find yourself cornered in the locker room, empty of girls except for you. you ended up lagging behind as you were texting your new boyfriend over your phone after class. you try to walk past him to go home, but he traps you against your own locker.

you end up snapping back at him, having had enough of it.

"what is wrong with you? you know what? i think you're obsessed with me!" you shout back, shoving at his chest.

"who do you think you are, to stop me from getting a boyfriend... what, do you like me or something?" you speak without thinking, in a fit of anger.

"i bet you do! i bet you go home every night and jerk off to daydreams of me. is that right?" you go off, pushing every button you can.

sukuna falls silent. you expect him to argue back, to deny all your claims fiercely, and then go storming off, having heard enough of your nonsense.

but he's glaring at you, tight lipped, ears and cheeks turning bright red.

"...why're you silent all of a sudden? say something..." you continue awkwardly. "don't tell me... you actually...?"

"shut up," he hisses at you. "just shut up, for a second."

he wears an expression you've never seen on him before, and seems to be thinking about what to say next. he looks as though he wants to say something.

you open your mouth to tell him 'nevermind', but the sound of a small group of girls approaching the locker room is audible, which interrupts the both of you, and you panic. just what kind of rumours would spur on if they caught you and sukuna like this in here? you only just got your first boyfriend, there's no way you're gonna let this bastard ruin that for you!

thinking quickly, you open up your locker and roughly push sukuna inside, and then jump in after him. you shut the locker door quietly and peek outside through the little gaps at the top. the girls come in, having come back to get something that they left behind. what terrible timing.

one of the girls walk up a little close to your liking and you end up moving your body back as far as you can, your back pressing up against sukuna without thinking. and then you're startled by the low and quiet groan you hear behind you.

whipping around, you see sukuna with clouded eyes and a tightened jaw, barely able to fit inside this narrow locker. but he doesn't find it in himself to feel uncomfortable or annoyed at the situation.

after all, your ass is pressed up tightly against his growing bulge right then and there.

you were right about what you'd said earlier. he'd always daydreamed of a moment like this, pumping his cock at the thought of doing lewd things with you...

you turn back to the front, panicked. what the fuck? why does he look... like that?

kinda hot...

shaking your head, you try to ignore your beating heart, praying that the girls exit the locker room soon so that you can quickly escape from this situation.

meanwhile, sukuna's hands struggle to keep away from you as his brain begins to short circuit, dick helplessly twitching in his pants, chest heaving but it being of no help - as the locker fills with the scent of you in it, the sweetness of your shampoo and perfume, making his heart pump harder.

you slowly shuffle forward a little, trying not to lean against him so much. when are these girls leaving... you think to yourself. they've started gossiping amongst themselves, sitting on the bench. goddamn it!

large hands fall onto your hips and pull you back toward him. you feel him grinding his crotch against your ass, and you know that whatever is poking you is definitely his fucking boner.

"what the fuck, sukuna? s-stop," you whisper to him as quietly as you can.

sukuna has stopped his thinking in itself entirely. whatever's making him act right now is nothing but his pure and selfish desires. there's no way he can resist you when you're the one who climbed inside your own locker with him. he needs to relieve his ache somehow.

he gets more and more handsy with you as each minute passes. his large hand snakes up to fondle your clothed tits as he continues to discreetly dry hump your ass.

you should be disgusted. you should jump out right now and snitch on him and call him a molester right in front of these girls.

but good god, this feels like... nothing you've felt before. his wandering hands. his immense horniness. this tight enclosed space. the size of his boner. it's all making you excited in a weird way, and you're starting to feel aroused at your core.

sukuna is doing his best to get some pleasure from this minimal friction he's getting inside his tight space, but it's not enough. the desperation and arousal claws at him, his dick hurting from how tightly it's sitting in his pants. he swallows on nothing.

fuck it. he's already started. why hold back now?

you feel a shift behind you and the sound of fabric and a zipper being undone. is he...?

you gasp softly when something hot and hard gets pushed between your thighs. it's... it's pulsing. you can't believe this is happening. with sukuna, out of all people? should you be mortified or intrigued? you fear that the latter might be truer.

there's ringing in his ears. not a single logical thought is occupying his brain as he thinks purely with his dick at the moment, having waited so long for a moment like this. fuck, he's so hard. and it only excites him more that you haven't leapt out of this locker yet, running away from him. even though you could. his heart is on the verge of beating it's way up to his throat.

small, shallow thrusts. you feel his heavy cock rub up against your inner thighs, and both of his large hands are now groping your clothed breasts lewdly. he unbuttons your blouse, and then messily pulls down your bra, as he's desperate to feel the real thing, and you can't muster the strength to swat him away. when his fingertips tease your nipples, you have to stop yourself from making any noise. you've always wanted someone to touch you there...

never did you know that someone would be sukuna. you grab his wrist in a fit of desperation.

"you're a fucking pervert... what the hell are you doing?" you tell him a tad bit loudly, trying to deny the heat in your cunt.

"... did you guys hear something?" one of the girls suddenly ask outside.

your heart drops to your stomach as this sets off a panic inside you again. a big, warm hand clasps over your mouth, shushing you effectively.

"quiet..." he mumbles into the shell of your ear, and it weakens your knees. it never occurred to you that he's always had an attractive voice. a wave of goosebumps wash over your skin.

you look down. you can get a tiny peek of his tip whenever he thrusts in... it's so fucking big. you can't possibly fit that inside you, could you? when you catch that it's glistening with precum, your pussy squeezes around nothing.

one hand still over your mouth and the other teasing your tits, sukuna is busy slowly chasing an orgasm, regardless of the girls that have gotten a little wary outside. they soon forget about it and continue their pointless chatter.

fuck... his cock is so close to your cunt. the thought of it makes him shudder. he's almost there.

your hands are semi-clawing at his hand that's still against your mouth, when you suddenly feel him cease the incessant groping at your breasts. instead, it goes under your skirt - a finger loosening your panties up to fit his fat cock beneath the flimsy fabric.

there it is. your bareback fuckin' pussy. he has to bite his own lip to hold off groaning out loud. he does his best to slide his dick in and out against your slit - being restricted in movement due to the tight space, but make doing somehow.

you're actually thankful for his hand covering your mouth up, as you would've definitely moaned out loud if it weren't for him. it's unreal how turned on you are right now. does he feel it? all the slick pouring out of you? it's so, so strange. you were so sure that you didn't want this with him before, but not anymore...

it grazes over your clit over and over, painfully teasing, and you need to orgasm so badly.

sukuna jolts his hips against you, giving a final short thrust as his tip catches the fabric of your panties - he presses his own face against your neck to effectively silence himself as he reaches his first high.

you shudder as his dick pulsates between your thighs so strongly, making a hot mess in your underwear, cum spilling out in thick ropes - you feel the heat of it on your poor cunt, and you shiver as sukuna inhales deeply against your neck, his breathing wavering, dick aching for more even as it continues to spill heavily, creaming your panties. his tongue licks a stripe up your neck, causing you to shiver.

it's a pleasure that's greater than he could've ever given himself alone. but he wants more. he needs more.

you're in the middle of trying to gather yourself again, but you again, feel him moving his hips. just what is he up to now...?

your eyes widen when you catch onto how he's trying to thrust himself inside you now. there's no way... you struggle against him but he holds you still - mouth still firmly silenced by his palm.

the best he can do is have the tip inside. but for now, it's enough. he doesn't care - as long as he can get whatever pleasure that's available...

"j-just the tip..." he whispers with the smallest voice he can manage, against your ear again. it turns you on so good.

you can't help but enjoy when he gropes at your chest again, his tip bullying it's way in your desperate and wet hole, popping in and out, in and out, in and out.

even with just the tip, you're about to lose your mind. you want more, but at the same time you're scared what'll happen to your mind if he shoves that whole thing inside you.

sukuna's brain is yet again short circuiting as he dips the tip of his cock into your hot and slippery cunt - making him feral and desperate to get deeper. yet, what's stopping him is this confined space that suffocates him. there isn't enough oxygen for both of you here, and he wonders whether it's you or the lack of oxygen that's making him endlessly breathless.

oh, he's close again.

he's going to cum again, but this time inside. you want to protest, but you've always wondered... does it feel good to have it spill inside? regardless, you still try to struggle against him purely because you don't like the thought of sukuna knowing that you're enjoying this. even though it's already too late.

he holds you so tightly against him - before letting himself loose once again - tip poking into your pussy as he pumps inside, balls clenching. your hole is welcoming, and it puckers around him mind numbingly, milking his heavy cock for everything he has. you feel the warmth of his seed reaching inside you but not very deep - most of it trickles back out onto your panties. he twitches against you harder and more intensely, hips shoving into you messily.

you're both out of breath...

...and that's when both of you hear the girls leaving the locker room with muffled laughter, successfully avoided noticing you and him inside.

they turn the lights off before they leave, and the locker room turns dark and silent. you're now sweating against sukuna - and the moment you feel his hands loosen against you, you push the locker door open and step outside, unsure of what exactly you're trying to run from. sukuna himself? or the fact that you might be forming some kind of attraction to him? to the way he treats you?

but alas, no matter how fast you think you are, you could never beat sukuna's reflexes. in that quick momentum, he's pursued you outside and grabbed your arm - before pulling you back and shoving you against the now closed locker door.

"where do you think you're going?" he asks with a deep and low voice, vein popping on his forehead and looking desperate and an intense blush being permeated on his face. why is it that it's always made you feel so squirmy, whenever he cornered you like this? the size difference, the strength difference... the pervert here is not only him, it seems.

your needy gaze flutters from his eyes down to his exposed cock. it's veiny, throbbing, and leaking messily. it looks heavy and most importantly... it's so fucking big.

in the blink of an eye, sukuna has hiked your legs up, holding you up against the lockers, making it so that you cannot run from him again. it's game over.

"having the nerve to try and run after seducing me with your ass..." sukuna mutters angrily, lining his dick above your cunt and tummy, showing off how deep it'll reach if he slid it inside.

"no- i didn't..." you protest weakly, heart hammering with excitement. "idiot... let me down."

you tell him, despite your arms that loop around his neck.

"your voice is lacking it's usual sharpness," sukuna tells you breathlessly, flipping your skirt up and pushing your panties aside. it's still wet with his previous loads. oh- he can't think straight.

"wait-! something that big won't fucking fit!" you tell him, only now the fear beginning to hit you. moreover, you're afraid he'll end up breaking you and stop all rational thinking - this is dangerous.

"it will. i'll mould the shape of your insides to my fuckin' cock," sukuna insists, eyes focused on your wet glistening pussy. so pretty.

he pushes it in. but he doesn't stop there. he pushes it in all the way. balls fucking deep.

your eyes widen and when he thrusts the whole thing in one go, you well and truly break. legs trembling, pleasure washes over you and you cry out a moan.

"fuck-! did you just cum? are you cumming?" sukuna asks, panting, slowly sliding himself in and out as your cunt spasms around him. soon enough, he speeds it up and makes sure his tip is bullying your cervix with each deep thrust, eyes rolling back as your walls welcome him so warmly and clamp down on him.

"haah- haah- mm, fuck! you're so fuckin' tight! ugh, 'm gonna bust again," he slurs messily, hips moving non-stop. the unkempt bush of his pubic hair gives friction against you adding onto your strange sensations of pleasure. drool begins to roll out from the corner of your mouth.

his balls have never felt heavier as they slap against your wet ass each time he slams his cock inside, slick pooling out of you and creating droplets on the floor. he has a lot to give you... and your cunt is being so agreeable, the way it sucks on him, warm and wet. it's turning him animalistic, no thoughts running inside his brain except to fucking breed this hole. breed you.

not inside... not inside... you think, not realising that you're not saying it out loud.

"i'm gonna do it inside. i'm gonna-!" he hisses, hips stuttering at the last second.

"ugh- shit! 'm c-cumming... fuuck... fuck!" sukuna cusses deeply, thighs trembling as he continues giving tiny, but sharp thrusts even as he's spilling into you while buried to the hilt.

it's hot. you can feel that it's thick. there's so much. even more than his two previous loads. sukuna's face being twisted in pleasure puts you in awe - and you unknowingly tighten your pussy around him as he orgasms inside, joined to you hip-to-hip.

he's never felt such a deep seated pleasure in him before. he continues to gasp and shudder with every stringy spurt that he knows is reaching your womb. what if he actually knocks you up? what if his seed takes? it's a scary but thrilling thought. the thought of you swollen with his baby... all rational thinking has been thrown out the window due to this pleasure.

sounds that you never could've imagined coming out of sukuna continue to spill from his lips... he slides his cock in and out and squeezes every last drop out of himself, and he suddenly brings his lips to yours, kissing you feverishly. both of you pant over each other while making out messily as he slowly begins to thrust into you over and over again. he's going to get addicted to this. he's going to crave your pussy everyday from now on.

sukuna sucks on your tongue like he wants to swallow it. your arms hold onto him for dear life.

all too suddenly, he brings you off the locker, arms hooked under your legs and palms supporting you by holding onto your ass cheeks.

the kiss breaks, and catch sight of sukuna's lust-filled eyes as he moves you up and down his cock using his monster-like strength. and you're held up by him like this, you can't do anything to stop him. just cling onto him and take what he gives you.

"f-fuck, sukuna... ooh-! t-too deep," you mumble with tears in your eyes, gasping from the way his tip kisses your womb effortlessly. he's seriously too big for his own good.

"keep saying my name like that- it'll only make my dick harder," he pants, continuing to use your pussy like a fleshlight. his thick load has made it even wetter. he can feel your slick beginning to cream up around the base of his cock now, and it makes his chest well up with something like pride. does he turn you on that good? this hole of yours refuses to run out of lube.

the absurdly obscene plap plap plap sound of flesh against flesh, makes for the lewdest echo in the locker room. that, paired with the mild darkness, and the possibility of being seen by someone coming in during after-school hours, makes for the perfect thrilling atmosphere for such feral sex.

it's driving you mad. the echoing, the subtle anxiety, the smell of his sweat.

it's marvelous...

another orgasm hits you like a bullet train. gasping, you whimper as he continues fucking you through it this time, relentlessly thrusting into you regardless of your pulsing walls.

"shit... your cunt's clinging to me," sukuna groans, feeling blessed to see you get undone by him, by his cock. the fingertips of his large hands against your ass sink deeper, the pleasurable knot in his stomach getting tighter once again.

"you and your uselessly big dick... fuck you," you chide breathlessly, doing your best to keep your sentences clear even as he plunges into you with an unforgiving pace.

"clearly not useless when it's made you cum twice now, right?"

"shut up-"

you get cut off when he begins to thrust faster, as you witness the very moment sukuna's eyes become blank with pleasure, getting ready to empty his balls again.

"slutty fuckin' cunt. latching onto me so greedily... can't stop- thrusting-" he mumbles, gripping onto your ass tighter.

you can't help but sigh with pleasure when he begins to fill you up again, twitching and pulsing like crazy inside you as he spills so much seed like he's peeing.

"ohh, shit... cumming s-so hard..." he breathes out shakily.

you're starting to feel full. but you get the feeling that this still isn't the last one. desperate kisses are pressed against the side of your neck as he takes some time to relax a little again, thoroughly finishing deep into you, hips jolting every now and then.

he carries you over to the bench in the middle of the room, where he lies you down and brings your knees closer to your chest, fully exposing your cunt to him, whole. his dick still squeezed into you.

with a hoarse shaky groan, he slowly drags his thick cock in and out of you in this position, with only the heavens knowing how he is still hard after so many orgasms.

you give a small yelp as he speeds up - your plush walls embracing him warmly and filling up his balls once more. god, he doesn't think he'll ever have enough of this pussy. of you.

"idiot! e-enough.. take it out... i'll get- pregnant-" you warn him not-so-convincingly, with gasping moans between each word.

"c-can't... you're... sucking me in so good... can't stop-" sukuna replies with no thoughts in his brain other than to relieve the throb in his erection again. it's driving him up a wall, too. the flesh of your ass that softens the impact everytime he drives his hips into you. your squeals and whines of euphoria. your exposed breasts and glistening clit. he burns every detail into his brain, to make sure he remembers forever...

he doesn't even know what number round this is, but it amazes even him how he feels like he's already edging close to another climax. it's pathetic and ridiculous of him. but he can't help the fact that you push him over so easily.

the number of tissues he'd run through just from jerking off every time he thought about you all night... you have no clue.

recalling those moments makes him feel even more determined to chase this final orgasm even more rigorously. it won't be difficult, not with how your cunt swallows him up so nice.

"fuck.... i- i like you. i've always liked you..." sukuna mumbles out the sudden confession slowly.

"stupid... bastard... you say this now...?" you say as you sigh in pleasure, almost being close to your own climax as well, this position setting off yet another deep arousal in you. after all that bickering and tormenting - he has the audacity to confess to you? only after cumming inside multiple times?

"can't give any excuses can i?" he voices with a curt laugh - finding himself to be pitiful in this moment as well.

"but it's true... i- fuck- i like you so much..." he groans, hips getting faster.

your eyes begin to blur with tears again... sukuna thumbs your clit gently... and then you arch your back with a gasping squeal. sukuna too, hisses as he pumps you full for a final time, letting his dick drain itself in your fluttering hole, hips and thighs jerking uncontrollably while his tip leaks spurt after spurt through your cervix, overflowing you to the maximum.

after dumping his final load, he slowly drags his large, twitching cock out of you with a pop and lets it rest against your gaping cunt, pulsing weakly against your clit. his thumb pushes your panty lining aside to keep your pussy exposed for him to see. your hole is still gaping and thrumming, as if missing him already and he's watching with awe as big globs of his spend trickle out of you thickly. if he wasn't so exhausted, the sight of this would've made him hard again.

sukuna lets go of you and lets your legs rest on the bench, as you're still panting from the exertion, mind numb from that last orgasm. he seems to loom over you for a second, before leaning down, arms caging you against the bench, knee between your legs, to kiss you on your glossy lips. it feels good, but you wouldn't want to admit that out loud to him.

"i like you." he repeats again, after breaking away from you. he wonders why it had taken him so long to admit this fact. once he got it out, it became an easy thing to say. you look at his face and he looks so pathetic in your eyes, the usual look of cockiness and mischief being wiped away. he says it as if he's pleading you, and you know what he's asking for, what he's unable to say out loud. he probably wants to be your boyfriend.

it's strange to see the puppy eyes of your literal arch nemesis, and it's also strange to hear his voice give you a love confession. it makes you mad. it makes you angry. not because you hate it, but because you don't hate it.

he sees it. he sees the instant your eyes glint with anger, and he very swiftly dodges the head butt you try to give him at the very last second.

"move, idiot," you say sharply, glaring at him.

alright, he probably deserved that one.

you stand up and fix your bra and blouse before gathering your things from the locker before leaving without another word - sukuna follows you outside in a fit of mild anxiousness.

"hey-"

"you. take responsibility and buy me some plan b pills. and a pregnancy test kit," you interrupt, looking back at him.

"...alright," he responds rather obediently, after a nervous swallow.

after you turn back around to continue walking, the tiniest smile grows on your face... sukuna looking nervous is something you never thought you'd see. maybe you can use this to your advantage.

your phone vibrates in your hand. it's from your new 'boyfriend'. a sweet message saying he's excited to see you again tomorrow. you delete the notification with a little bit of guilt on your mind. you'll leave tomorrow's issues for tomorrow.

in front of the chemist, you languidly stand around outside waiting as sukuna does as you'd asked him. truth be told, it was because you didn't want to buy them yourself, out of embarrassment. you know he doesn't care about how people sees him, so no harm done there.

when he comes back out with the bag, he holds it out to hand it over to you. but when you try to grab it, he lifts it away.

"you're gonna break up with him, right?" he suddenly asks, with a rather serious expression on his face.

you ignore the question and try to grab the bag, but he avoids you again.

"...right?" he emphasises. he doesn't intimidate you at all anymore, not after knowing about his feelings for you.

"it's none of your business?" you tell him, finally snatching the bag. he doesn't look too pleased about that answer. you take the pills quietly and shove the rest into your bag.

"okay. now go home," you shoo at him. "i'm tired."

"you haven't answered me yet," he says firmly, holding onto your wrist.

"you'll have your answer tomorrow," you reply in an exasperated tone, shaking off his grip.

"and just letting you know. if it turns out positive, i'm never speaking to you again," you warn him with a deadpan face. in the back of your mind, you're pretty anxious about it, but you know according to your cycle, today wasn't a fertile day. that, and with the pill... it should be alright.

sukuna stiffens up and opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it again.

"and don't follow me. if you do, i'll also never speak to you again."

you're not that serious about not talking to him ever again, but you believe he deserves to feel as anxious as you do.

"... i wasn't planning on stalking you anyway. jesus," sukuna mutters, kicking at the dirt on the ground.

you narrow your eyes at him, and then continue your way home.

he scratches the back of his head in frustration. it's like he's skipped a lot of steps towards you and it's coming back to bite him in the ass. ah, well. nothing he can do about it now.

sukuna starts praying that the test comes out as negative.

-

in the end, you decided to become the asshole and just break up with the guy over text. what was there to even really 'break up' anyway? it was for less than a day...

regardless, the news seems to run across the entire school and your friends begin to pester you about why. you can't tell them the truth. what could you even say? 'oh, i got railed good by the one guy i despised in school and it made me end up changing my mind'? fuck that.

he walks towards you after school with seemingly high spirits.

"so... i heard you broke it off after all," he approaches you after hearing the good news. you'd been ignoring him all day, but he's hoping you'll stop once the day was over and there was no one else around to watch them.

you continue to give him the silent treatment, walking along without sparing him a glance.

"hey," he grabs your forearm to stop you from walking.

"stop ignoring me. please."

you only spare him a glance because he added 'please'.

"...i don't see how that changes anything between us," you finally respond.

"right. surely not," he responds, voice thick with sarcasm.

"is that the correct attitude you should be taking? i broke up with him because i felt bad i fucked someone else while we were together. not because i like you back," you shoot at him, crossing your arms.

"oh, give me a break. you were barely with him for one day-"

"sukuna. do you want me to like you back?"

sukuna falls silent, looking at you with annoyance yet also simultaneous desire.

"if you want me to like you... then you need to work for it. make up for all the mean things you've said and done to me."

"...how? what should i do?" he asks, daringly, stepping forward towards you.

you wordlessly take your bag and shove it against his chest with an aloof expression on your features. it startles him for a moment, but looking at your face, he understands what you're asking of him. he slowly smirks and slings your bag over his shoulder, on top of his own.

"easy. anything else?"

"...i'm kinda hungry. take me somewhere good to eat. you pay."

"so... a date?" sukuna hums teasingly, trying to hold your hand.

"nope. you're gonna act as my lackey for a few weeks. it's payback. after that... well, we'll see," you say as you dodge his hand.

he can't wipe the smile off his face. you're clearly playing around with him, but he doesn't hate it. it's another form of attention, is it not? he'll have plenty of chances to make you his from now.

little does he know... he's the one that will become yours in the end.

you know the drill! dot points bc im lazy as fuck!!

okay well, first off the test does turn out negative, lucky for him... from then on you make him wear condoms whenever you have sex

but before that, he spends a few weeks running around to try and appease you

everybody shocked to see the big bad bully is being so obedient, and little do they know...

mmmaybe you give him little rewards every now and then, some sneaky kisses or so, just to keep him afloat... and then you withhold your body from him again

still carries your bag for you everywhere

has to deal with the frustration of not having boyfriend privileges yet... always itching to touch you but you wont allow it until you think he deserves it

sitting between his legs but not letting him be handsy with you is torture. maybe he'll break the rules a bit and hug your waist anyway

love the thought of him borderline begging for your touch because he's so hard from spending so much time being so close with you and it's been well over three weeks since he's done anything remotely sexual with you

maybe you'll feel a little turned on by his pleading that you cave in a bit, and take him to the public restrooms for a few handjobs

he will take anything he can, the opportunist...

and you'll have plenty of fun edging and toying with sukuna until he's shaped nicely into being a good obedient boyfriend for you

bully sukuna trope was inspired and set alight by @gojos-thot-patrol btw, link to his fic here... mine took a completely different path but it was a similar concept in the end ✨️👌

Masterlist

[oceantornadoo]

ch14 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: guns and violence. christmas is mentioned but nothing religious

last chapter yall! i did not edit this srry

masterlist

The day your life changes forever, again, is emotional for all the wrong reasons.

Two months after you get rescued (John insists that you rescued yourself, but you like to remember that image of him haloed by light at the top of the stairs like an angel), you send your brother and his husband back home to Manchester. The morning breeze whips the fabric of your coat as you squint at your family in front of you. Simon is dressed in his usual dark slacks and button down, the lines of his tattoos escaping the fabric to trail up his neck. Johnny’s mohawk has grown into a mullet, curly hairs framing his face like a cherub. They stand in front of the Castle doors with their backs to the waiting car, eyes trained on you and occasionally flicking to John or Gaz at your sides.

“I’m going to miss you.” You murmur, hugging Johnny first. He squeezes you until you’re lifted off the ground and pounding on his back to let you go. “Gonna miss ye too, hen.” He sets you on your feet laughing, then leans in to kiss your forehead. “Take care of y’rself.” He says it to you but his eyes meet John’s, a silent conversation happening between them. You turn to Simon, leaving Johnny to have intimidating handshakes with the men by you.

“Bye, Si.” He smothers you in a hug like he’s trying to merge you into him. “Bye, my love.” You sniffle into the crook of his neck, willing yourself not to cry. “You gonna visit more often?” You ask, voice weak with emotion. He nods tightly against you. “And it can’t just be because I got kidnapped. You need to come for fun.” He grumbles something nonsensical at that. Simon’s still sensitive over not finding Phil, a task that had eaten away at him all month. John finally called it after there was evidence Phil fled to Cuba. Simon squeezes you once more, freezing for a second when he feels the Glock tucked in your waistband. He sets you on your feet, his eyes searching yours as you try to tell him why. Satisfied that he found something, Simon nods resolutely. His eyes are wet but in a blink they’re dry, maintaining his tough-guy persona. You snort back a sob like a real woman, turning away as the men shake hands.

“Bye, guys!” You say one last time as they turn, hands almost brushing on their walk to the car. Johnny winks at you before dipping into the car while Simon turns his head upwards like he’s blinking back tears. The door shuts and they disappear in a cloud of exhaust. 

John’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you into him. You go willingly, hiding your face in his neck as you fold into him. “You’ll see him for Christmas, sweetheart.” Only a few weeks away, but it feels like eons. John kisses the side of your head, squeezing you tight until you can breathe. “John, I just…” You don’t even know what you want to say, just that you already miss your family with a deep ache in your heart. His free hand finds purchase at the nape of your neck, tugging you closer into him. “I know, baby, I know.” The simple acknowledgement of your feelings calms your breathing into a normal rhythm until you can pull back with a small smile on your face.

“I think I’m going to take a walk. Clear my head.” He nods, his beard pulling at the sides. You notice new grey hairs at the sides, a worrying look. “I’ll come?” You shake your head no, then peck him on the lips. “I think I need to be alone, honey. You can have all the men watch me from every corner of the park, I promise.” John knocks his forehead into yours for a second before pulling back with a grim smile on his face. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He pecks your forehead and turns back inside. Gaz nods at you, then taps his ear and speaks something into his earpiece.

You venture across the street into the local park. It reminds you a bit of Central Park in the movies, full of natural structures rather than just a flat patch of grass. You let your feet guide you, taking deep breaths in the crisp winter air. A moment later, you realize this is the first time in a while you haven’t thought about your kidnapping. Your therapist’s breathing techniques make an appearance as you pat yourself on the back. 

Though the leaves are dead and the air is chilly, there’s still a lot of foliage in the park. Considerable bunches of bushes protect you from the wind as you walk in deeper. It’s calming to know that there’s guards watching you from somewhere you can’t see, a safety blanket to fall back on. As you turn left, you notice a tiny hill that rises into an overhang. Your feet weave a path towards it, settling your back to the rock wall and sliding down into a sitting position as you contemplate the last few months. 

Footsteps crunch on dead leaves as someone approaches from behind you. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’d really prefer to be alon-” You stop in the middle of your sentence when you register the man standing in front of you. He’s thinner from when you last saw him, cheeks gaunt and sallow. His hair looks thinner and though you know it’s not possible, he looks shorter. A dark cap blocks you from seeing his eyes, an unsettling realization creeping over you. 

“What, how, I thought you left the country?” Phil shakes his head, advancing near your spot. You scramble to sit up, wincing as your head knocks against the short overhang. You try to step out of its shadow but Phil steps forward again, preventing you from peeling out of the shadows. “Couldn’t leave you, sugar. Was jus’ waiting for your brother to leave.” You shiver at his insinuation. He seems…off. No longer the confident assistant or the wily interrogator. It’s like you are his mission now that Shepherd is gone.

“Why don’t we get out of this cold and grab a tea, Phil? I bet you’re shivering.” He’s not even wearing a coat, dressed in a worn pair of jeans and a cotton long sleeve. If you can just get out of the overhang so security can see you…

Phil shakes his head, fumbling for something at his side. Your dominant hand is still against the hard slab of rock, originally there to steady you as you stood up. “I’ve been watchin’ you. Waiting.” You nod, hand pressing against your pants as you fumble for the Glock tucked in your waistband. “Waiting for what?” You steady your voice so it doesn’t sound nervous. You smile sweetly at him, like you’re excited to be conversing with your kidnapper. Phil smiles back and you hold back your flinch. He’s missing two teeth, like they were pulled out at all the wrong angles. You shiver to think of how else Shepherd punished him.

“To talk to you, sugar. We could’ve had somethin’ great at the bookstore.” You swallow and nod, smiling tightly. Your hand finally finds the cold metal of the gun, fingers falling into a familiar grip at the handle. “I know, I’m sorry it went the way it did. I enjoyed our time there.” He nods sharply, eyes glittering with zeal. Shepherd must have knocked something loose in his brain, some part to turn him into this frenzied stalker. Phil looks at a loss for words so you stumble through a question.

“How were you watching me? Must’ve been pretty clever of you.” You give him a tooth grin, encouraging him to continue with a head nod. “Well, I-” You flick out your gun, hands sure as you aim it at him. “I need you to step backwards, Phil.” He refuses, shaking his head vehemently. “I can’t let you out there, sugar. My mission isn’t complete.” You walk forward with the gun and Phil doesn’t follow your lead, standing tall. “Move, Phil. Let’s talk this out in the park.” 

It happens in a flash.

Phil reaches for the gun and you fire. Years of lessons come back instantly, all those times you pushed yourself to learn self-defense techniques, even when Johnny pleaded exhaustion and Simon pleaded never-ending work. You squeeze the trigger again, shooting through his outstretched fingers. It’s like a release.

The gunshot garners the attention of your security team. Men and women swarm you instantly, securing the body and taking the weapon out of your grip. John is there a minute later, petting your face worriedly. Gaz is asking questions but all you can focus on is the maroon stain of blood drying on the dusty rocks and lifeless grass of the park. You squeeze the gun in your grip before realizing someone took it from you, your fingers only finding air.

“I did it.” Finally, your eyes focus on John’s, noting the concern woven into your skin. “You did.” His hands don’t stop moving, squeezing your face and sides like he can’t believe you’re in front of him. “Let’s get you home, sweetheart. Ok?” You nod once and he smiles like you’ve impressed him. “Ok.”

-

For Christmas, John only buys you one gift.

Well, not exactly.

John cannot bear the sight of his city anymore, so he convinces you to stay, temporarily, in the countryside after you shoot Phil. After you, his wife, killed her own enemy in a park. A fact he reminds himself of everyday, turning it around in his brain like a puzzle he can’t solve. He can’t protect you, plain and simple. There’s only one solution for that.

You beg him to do Christmas in the library in front of the fireplace, a festive tree tucked in the corner. It’s been just you and him since the shooting. He can’t bear losing your attention to any other person and you’re too skittish to be around more than one person at a time. Jumping at every footstep, staring at the corners of the old master bedroom in the estate like there are ghosts watching. Laswell’s wife agreed that an escape to a new location might be good for you since the Castle and its surrounding park hold too many terrifying memories. 

“I want you to open this one first, John.” There you are, haloed by firelight as you hand him a red and green present. You’re clothed in Christmas pajamas, a matching set you forced John to wear as well. He shakes his head no, sliding the envelope from where he was holding it behind his back. “You first, sweetheart.” You drop the present with a frown, snatching the envelope from his waiting hands.

You break the wax seal impatiently, tugging the set of papers out of their cage and setting them on the floor in front of you. Your eyes scan the papers quickly before frowning at him. “What are these?” John scans your face for any sense of a reaction, but it’s a smooth mask. “Read the top, baby.” You don’t look down at the papers, eyes trained on his face. “Let me rephrase. Why are you handing me divorce papers, John?” He sighs frustratedly.

“I can’t protect you. You said it, sweetheart. You’re trapped. I’m lettin’ you out. You never signed up for losin’ your life.” Instead of answering him, you slap your hands on the wooden floors and scramble into a standing position. “You’re an absolute ass, you know that?” You turn smartly and march into the bookshelves, John sharp on your heels. He thought this might happen, but he didn’t expect such an angry reaction. He thought you might be a little distraught but glad to go back to Manchester and put this shamble of a marriage behind you.

You’re muttering things under your breath as he chases you through the bookshelves. Right before the shelf ends, you whip around, flames in your eyes. “I haven’t hated you for months, but I think I do right now.” You bite out. John puts his hands up like you’re a wild animal needing to be calmed. “I thought you’d be glad. You were trapped.” You roll your eyes, nearing him quickly. “If I didn’t choose this marriage, you would know, John. I can clearly use a gun.” You haven’t talked about the shooting too much. John shut you away and waited for you to fall apart, but all you’ve done is…survive. John doesn’t respond, too thrown by your admission. Now you’re in his space, your chest meeting his own with every inhale. When he still doesn’t answer, you continue. “I love you, you absolute idiot. I did before I was kidnapped and I do now. You held me after I killed a man, John. Why would I divorce you?�� John has no logical response. He drops to his knee.

“Marry me again. Just us, doin’ it ‘cause we can.” You blink, thrown by the change in events. “You just served me divorce papers.” You blurt. John smiles. “I didn’t sign them so even if you did, we’d be…” He gestures into open air, like he can’t articulate that he intended to trap you again. A terrible, terrible man. He can’t believe you love him.

“I hate you.” You say, smiling. “You love me.” You shake his head at your words. “That’s it?” You murmur, suddenly shy. That’s right, he almost forgot. “I love you too, sweetheart. Have since the weddin’, if we’re bein’ honest.” You bite your lip in surprise. John rises up and you pull him in, kissing him hard. “Tha’ a yes?” He murmurs, kissing your jaw. “Yes, Mr. Price. I’ll marry you again.”

-

GUYSSSS she's over!! she's done!! thank you for all the kind likes and comments and reposts and overall support it means the WORLDDDD. stay tuned for more price content <333

-

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[rosenclaws]

Over and Over Again || DOFP!Logan x Reader

Summary: Logan wakes up in 2023 in a brand new timeline. In this world you're still alive and you're married, but he doesn't remember a thing.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

wc: 3.5k

a/n: damn bro these song fics keep getting longer and longer lmao. Anyways here is my third instalment of a fic based on “Would You Fall In Love With Me Again” from Epic the Musical. I hope you like this one too! If you wanna read the other two you can find them here and here

Yesterday everything made sense. Yesterday you woke up next to your husband Logan, made coffee, graded a few essays, trained with Logan in the danger room, and then went to dinner. You kissed him good night and turned out the light to go to bed. Today? Your whole fucking life is being flipped upside down.

You knew something was wrong the moment you saw Logan standing barefoot in Charles' office. He had this look on his face. A mix between confusion and grief. A longing in his eyes that just didn't make sense when you had kissed him good morning only a few hours ago.

"You're alive?" Logan says breathlessly, his eyes widening as the words leave his mouth.

Realizing his mistake immediately. But he couldn't help himself. Not when the last memory he had of you was holding you as you died.

"Charles, what's going on?" You asked in a panicked voice. Logan, this Logan, your? Logan, reached out for you but you stepped back. You don't know why but you just did it. Though it's hard to see the hurt in Logan's eyes when you do.

"My dear," Charles says softly, his eyes darting from you to Logan.

"I think you should sit down for this."

You aren't the only one to be called into Charles office. Standing around you was Ororo, Jean, Scott, and Hank. Before you stood Logan with his arms crossed as Charles weaves a wild and frankly impossible story.

This Logan is not the man you knew.

He's from an alternate timeline where the X-Men were being hunted and eradicated, the world being over run by these things called the Sentinels. How everyone in this room was dead in Logan's world. The last chance they had was sending his consciousness back in time to stop the chain of events and according to Charles he had done it. He had saved the world and everyone in this damn mansion. But at the cost of his own memories, his own life in a way.

"Jean, please stay. I want you to help in attempting to get his memories back. The rest of you thank you and please do not tell anyone else about this." Everyone starts to move but you.

You stay seated in your seat, unsure of what to do. Do you go up to him? He's still your husband after all, but is he? You feel his eyes staring into your head as you finally make your move and get up. Walking right up to him.

"Hi, Logan." You say softly.

"Hi." You bite your lip nervously as you try and think of something to say. There's this awkward tension between the two of you. Something you haven't felt since you first met. Though you guess this is technically a first meeting. It's really confusing.

"Logan, shall we begin?" Charles cuts through your thoughts. You don't want to leave, in fact you have a million questions that will pour out once you figure out how to talk to him. But it's going to have to wait.

"I uh...I'll find you after." He mumbles, his hand moves to cup your face but he stops before he can actually touch you.

"Yeah, I'll see you after." You smile awkwardly and gently grab his hand, giving it a small squeeze before leaving. Logan wants so badly to hold on, to tighten his grip and never let you leave his side. But he can't. So he just lets you go.

You waited. Hours passed and you heard nothing from Logan or Jean or Charles. Every hour you'd pass by the office, hearing muffled voices coming from the other side of the door. It was tearing you apart just waiting for them to be done. But that's all you can do.

By the time the sun goes down you give up on waiting for Logan. Slinking to a small corner of the mansion. What if something horrible happened? What if they can't get his memories fixed and he'll never remember what your life was like together. How you met, how you fell in love, how he proposed, your first dance. Did he truly forget it all? You rest your head in your hands as you listen to the grandfather clock tick and tick.

Or...does he remember it all. Does he remember it and regret it? You're dead in his timeline. So what if you two were never meant to be together, what if he remembers both timelines and...he doesn't want you anymore.

You trudge back to your room, wanting to just sleep. Maybe when you wake up tomorrow this will all be some insane dream. Unfortunately you forgot that you share a room with Logan. As you open the door you see him sitting on the bed. A cigar in his hands as he stares out the window. Though he quickly turns around when he hears you.

"Hi, again." He says, snuffing out the cigar.

"Hi." Fuck can you say any other word but hi to his man?

"How did it go with the professor?" You ask, wringing your hands together behind your back. Logan shrugs and the look on his face doesn't give you much hope.

"Not great." You just nod, unsure of what to say next.

"I um, Chuck set up another room for me so...I'm gonna sleep there tonight." Logan winces as he sees your face fall. He doesn't want to be apart from you but it's what's best. He needs to sort out his...well everything. Besides, he's practically a stranger to you now.

"Oh." You squeak out.

"If that's what you want." It's not.

Still Logan just nods his head and stands up, grabbing a few things and silently slipping past you.

"Room 246. I'm in room 246." He tells you, staring at you one last time before leaving you alone in your bedroom.

You sleep like utter shit. You're so used to having Logan by your side that being alone just fucking sucks. You miss him so much. You contemplated going to his room but you didn't think he wanted you there. Logan has another session with Charles in the morning. You only see a glimpse of him before he disappears into the office. You wonder if he feels just as miserable as you do.

The next week is filled with the same tension and unbearable awkwardness. It's like he's a ghost. Only there when you turn around, out of the corner of your eye. You hated it. God it was awful, you longed to be next to him. For him to hold you again, kiss you. You don't even know why he's avoiding you. Logan had always been difficult when it comes to opening up but Logan, your Logan was getting better at it.

It's well into the night and you're still sitting in an empty classroom. You don't really sleep in your bed anymore. It reminds you too much of him. There's a couch near your desk anyways. With Logan in memory recovery you have been covering his classes. You sit in silence as you grade the latest test when you hear heavy boots approaching you.

"It's late," You look up to see Logan leaning against the doorframe.

"I know, but I need to get this done." You gesture to the stack of tests next to you.

"You need to sleep, I've noticed you haven't been doing that much." Your heart skips a beat, has he really been keeping tabs on you like that.

"I'll be okay Logan, really." You say gently. But your answer isn't good enough for him. You watch as he walks over to your desk and grabs half of the tests and a red pen.

"Logan It's fine really," You argue but he doesn't listen.

"What if-" You stop yourself before you finish the question.

"What if my history is different? Don't worry sweetheart I went back to the 70's not the civil war." The nickname rolls of his tongue with ease, he doesn't even realize he said it until he sees you get shy.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Logan apologizes, silently kicking himself. He never should have come here. He just. He just really misses you.

"Don't apologize, It's just been a while since you called me that." You try to hide the soft smile by propping a paper up to block your face. Time passes, the only sounds being the scribbling of pens.

"Damn, Was I that bad of a teacher?" He asks as he crosses out a whole paper in red pen. You giggle and Logan looks up, a smile on his face as he hears that sweet sound.

"You're not a bad teacher, you're the favorite actually. Though sometimes you play favorites with your students." You tease, remembering how easy Jubilee could get out of being late just by bringing Logan coffee in the morning.

"Favorite? I doubt that." He snorts, Logan isn't exactly the fresh faced happy go lucky teacher that you bring an apple to. In fact he never considered himself much of a teacher of anything.

"It's true, you're tough on them but they just love you." "That doesn't sound like me." Logan jokes, though he quickly regrets his word choice when he sees your eyes cloud with sadness.

"I..." He sighs, great he fucked this up already.

"It's okay, sorry I just, I'm still getting used to all this." You offer him a small smile but he can see right through it. You're still his wife after all and he knows you.

"How are you? This must be a lot for you." You ask, turning the conversation away from you.

You've been so focused in your own grief that you hadn't given what he must be feeling much thought. You start to feel guilty, I mean this can't be easy for him either. Logan sets the red pen down. Sighing as he runs his hands through his hair.

"I'll be alright sweetheart," He doesn't want you to worry about him.

"Please, talk to me." You reach your hand out.

Your left hand. The one with the wedding band still sitting on your finger. Logan's breath hitches as he recognizes that ring. It's a little worn from the years of wear but he knows it. He bought that ring for you a long time ago.

"I feel like a ghost. I remember my old timeline and Jean and Charles have been able to unlock bits and pieces of this one but it doesn't feel real." He admits.

"Do you regret it? Changing the timeline?" You ask and Logan shakes his head.

"No." Not at all. In fact even with all this confusion he would do it again in a heartbeat. Anything if it means you're alive. You start to ask another question but a yawn cuts through your words.

"Alright, it's bedtime now." Logan says with little room for argument. He gets up and heads to the door but you don't follow. He turns around to see you laying out a blanket on the couch.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You jump at the harshness of his voice.

"I've been sleeping on the couch the last couple nights." You say casually.

Though to Logan it's like a knife to the heart. Not on his watch. You roll your eyes seeing the look on his face, that protective grumpy look.

"It's comfortable and my room is too far, I'm just going to take a short nap. You grumble. You always were stubborn and Logan knows there's no changing your mind.

"Fine." He shuts off the lights and walks over, sitting on the edge of the couch putting a pillow on his lap.

"Logan..."

"Come on, just a nap right?" You're too tired and if you're honest too selfish to pass this up.

To be this close to Logan again is a dream. You settle down with your head in his lap groaning as your head sinks to rest on his big thighs. Logan drapes a blanket over you, his hands coming to rub your back in a gentle soothing motion. It doesn't take long before you're out like a light. Drifting to sleep faster than you have all week.

When you wake up you're not in your classroom anymore. In fact you're in a bed with the covers tucked in and the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Just a nap right?" You mimic in a high pitched voice as you get out of bed. It becomes very clear the moment you spot the clothes in the corner of the room that this isn't your bedroom.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who's it is. You take one of the pillows and hug it to your chest. The smell of Logan's cologne wraps around you. Fuck you missed waking up next to him. You gently set the pillow down and swipe one of the shirts sitting on the floor before darting back to your room.

"Good morning sweetheart, sleep well?" Logan asks as you walk into the kitchen.

"Yeah, I haven't slept that well in a couple days." You sigh as he hands you a cup of coffee.

You take a sip and to your surprise it's perfect, just how you like it. Before you can say another word Logan is already gone. The hope in your chest deflating just a little bit. But last night was the closest you've been since he came back. It's a step in the right direction.

It's another week of dancing around each other. You talk more, laugh more. He still sleeps in a separate room but you find yourself spending more time together. It's little things that you notice first. That he still hates pop music and he drinks black coffee. His favorite brand of beer is still Molson. In small ways it's like you have him back. But then you see that he picks the salt and vinegar chips over plain and it all comes crashing down again. How stupid is that? Heartbroken of his favorite chip flavor? But to you it's just a reminder that he is different. But does that even matter?

You find yourself drifting to sleep in your bed this time, holding onto Logan's shirt as a way to soothe you to sleep. But you're quickly pulled from dreamland by a loud knock on your door. It's frantic and quite startling. You throw the covers off and stumble to the door, throwing it open to see who's bothering you so late.

"Logan?" You ask half asleep, rubbing your eyes as you see him standing in front of you. You notice the fearful look in his eyes and it seems to snap you awake. You step aside and let him in.

"I didn't mean to wake you. I just needed to see you." He's tense and his eyes keep darting around the room, like he's waiting for an attack. Seeing you is slowly helping his brain but every time he closes his eyes his nightmare replays in his head. He looks down at his hand and swears he sees blood.

"Logan, come here." You take his hands, covering his palms with yours and guiding him to the bed.

"I don't want to bother you sweetheart," He mumbles, his resolve breaking pretty quickly as he lays his head next to yours.

"Tell me about it, your nightmare." He furrows his brows in confusion, how did you know?

"I know that look." You cup his face and smile. It feels so right to be next to him right now. Logan sighs, his hand covering yours as he just soaks in being next to you. That nightmare felt so real, probably because it was.

"It was the day I lost you. In my timeline."

"The sentinels?" You ask but he shakes his head.

"No you...you died before they were even created. Probably for the best. It was a mission. A simple one that went to shit so quickly." It was all Logan's fault. He woke up every day knowing that if he had been faster, been better. You would still be alive.

"They took advantage of my super senses, they overwhelmed me with noise and smells. I tried to fight through it I really did, but I was too weak." Logan feels you wipe his cheek, a tear he didn't even realize was falling.

"By the time it was over, you were fatally wounded. I held you in my arms. I begged you not to go. Not to leave me but it was too late." Your eyes cloud with tears as Logan tells his story.

The absolute grief in his voice, god how horrible. You don't know what you'd do if Logan died, how you'd even continue on. Yet this man kept fighting, kept saving peoples lives. Even when he wanted to give up and walk away.

That's the Logan you know. He'll always be the hero he never thinks he is. So what if there's a few differences. At his core Logan will always be the man you fell in love with.

"I'm so sorry," You whisper, you crawl onto his chest and hug him tightly.

Your face buried in his neck. He holds you tight. Breathing in the smell of your shampoo. He holds you for a long time before loosening his grip on you. The urge to stay like this forever is strong but there's a nagging in the back of his head. He's over stayed his welcome.

"I should get back to my room." He gently lays you back on the bed and moves to get up.

"What?" You ask in disbelief, scrambling to grab onto his arm.

"Please don't go Logan. Please the last two weeks have been horrible without you. I miss you, I miss my husband." You beg, tears falling down your cheeks.

"Sweetheart I'm not the man you married." He wipes away your tears.

"I miss you too. So fucking much. But it's best I keep my distance."

"Logan please! What do you mean you're not the man I married?!" You grab his shirt and pull him close to you. Logan grabs your wrists firmly but gently.

“You were my guiding light, the only thing that kept me going in the right direction. When I lost you, It felt like I lost myself." He tries to pry your hands off of him but you stand firm.

"I stayed with the team, I fought and killed and maybe they called me a hero. But it was never the same. I lost my way."

"But you saved the world, you're still my hero." Logan just chuckles sadly.

"I didn't give a fuck about the world." He confesses. He did care. Sort of. He knew that he was the X-Men's only hope when he got sent back. But his real motivation, his true motivation was you.

"Sweetheart, I may have saved the world but I did it for you. It’s always you.” He did it for the chance that he could save you, that somehow going back to 1973 would undo everything, that you'd be alive. He would sacrifice everything if it meant you got to live another day.

So when he woke up and saw that it had worked, he had never felt such relief. But the way you looked at him, you were scared. So uncertain. He couldn't just pick you up in his arms and kiss you like he had dreamed of. You were married in this world but he understood that he had essentially replaced the Logan that you knew.

So he kept his distance. The more he learned from Charles the more the other Logan sounded better. This Logan never had to stab Jean or watch his friends die one by one. How could he ever compare? He'd rather you be alive, even if it breaks his heart.

"I love you Logan, I love you so much." The words flood out of your mouth, unstoppable as you finally get the chance to see the truth about Logan.

"You're mine. Always. We belong together. Our love transcends timelines, universes, and all that bullshit."

"Don't you love me?"

"Of course I fucking love you don't you ever doubt that." He snaps.

He pushes you away because he loves you, he doesn't think he's worthy because he loves you so fucking much. He'd kiss the ground you fucking walk on if you asked.

"Then listen to me Logan." You grab his face and smash your lips on his, kissing him desperately.

Logan groans as he wraps his arms around your waist. You fall onto the bed, Logan propping himself up with his elbows. You tug on his hair, messing it up as you comb your fingers through it. You pull apart breathlessly, almost brought to tears from just getting to kiss your husband again.

"You're it for me Logan, forever." You mumble as he rests his forehead against yours.

"I love you too sweetheart, I missed you so much." He cradles your face in his hand, legs interlocked as the sheets become a tangled mess.

"How long has it been since you saw me?" You ask, Logans eyes filling with tears as he listens to your heart beat against his chest.

"Over 50 years." As the moon shines through the window the only thing on both of your minds is how lucky you truly are to have found a love like this.

To be destined to be together in every timeline, every world. It's you and Logan.

[imsofreakingtired]

so i just read your sevika x entp and oh y god it was so funny and so so so sooooo good i am in love!!!!!!!

so i was wondering if you could maybe do a Sevika x INFP reader<33

thankyou and love your suff

<33

I LOVE YOU INFPS SO MUCH OFC

Sevika x INFP!reader hcs

mutual pining for YEARS before either of you worked up the courage to talk to each other oh my god it was hell for everyone watching

it was literally  you: she’s so strong and independent and capable, she’d never want me. sevika: she’s so pure and kind and generous, she deserves so much better than me.  

the number one thing you and Sevika have in common: your feelings run deep. once you both agree to commit, there’s no turning back. every breath she takes is in loyalty to you. and you have devoted your soul to hers 

you bring out the softest side of her. she finds herself stumbling over her words when she tries to be honest about her feelings for you. once you win her trust, you are the only person she feels like she can open up to  

sevika is overprotective of you almost to a fault, she is terrified that someone might hurt you. she feels that you are too non-confrontational and wants to take on every single person who ever hurt you in a fight on your behalf. you tease her for this, saying “you’re my girlfriend, not my knight in shining armor” “who was it? who was the asshole who said that to you?” “sev, it’s not that serious, i’m fine—” (her machete is already out) “that fucker is dead tonight.”  

in turn, you push her out of her comfort zone. get her to talk about her feelings. you understand her boundaries but also help her process her emotions, something she has never been able to do. she’s too hard on herself, she will blame herself for the smallest mistakes, and when she feels like she hasn’t done enough she will punish herself for it. the first time you held her face, looked her in the eyes, and said honestly, “you did your best. that’s all that matters. i am proud of you.” she abruptly pushed you away so you wouldn’t see her tears. no one had ever said something like that to her before. 

you’re so unintentionally funny to her. like everything you say just hits her funny bone and you don’t understand it but you love the sound of her laughing so you don’t really care. but it’ll be something like you: *drops food* you, whispering: why has janna forsaken me sevika, from the other room: *snorts out milk*  

Sevika is a surprisingly good therapist to you because she is so pragmatic while you are prone to overthinking things. modern!au scenario in which you were spiraling about a social encounter with someone, worrying that you made them angry or that you came off the wrong way, and she’ll just calmly look you in the eye and say “or….their attitude could have had nothing to do with you.” 

you discover her creative side and then become her own personal cheerleader. you find out she can draw, and you give her a brand new sketchbook the next day. she gets embarrassed, insisting she can’t draw that well, it’s just a hobby, yadda…. but she sketches a portrait of you and you frame it and keep it on your desk because the detail that went into the drawing shows just how much she adores your face, how much she pays attention…how much she loves you

honestly you two would have the longest hugs. you just sink into her arms and Sevika, equally touch starved, will just bury her face in your neck and not let go and you’d just stand there like that for several minutes

[howlett-dekarios]

𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗, 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜.

▏Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader

▏Summary: Your past boyfriends planted in your brain the idiotic vision of how exactly you're supposed to care about your appearance and how you need to be clean shaved all the time. Logan proves you how a real man should treat his woman.

▏Warnings: just pure fluff | suggestive themes | MDNI

▏Word count: 1,5k

▏A/n: Let's be honest: Logan lived for over 200 years, he can't give a fuck about a little hair on his lover.

You love your late night movie marathons with Logan. These small moments are basically the only ones which aren’t including Wade. At first you two agreed on your friend being the part of it but after he got together with Ness again, you have more time to enjoy yourselves. Talk about nothing while TV is just background noise. 

Never before you’ve been feeling so safe. A simple knowledge of Logan being nearby, scent of cigars and his cologne calming your nerves after an exhausting day at work. 

The first time you saw this guy you were so sure about him not liking you. His routine reduced to sitting on the couch in complete silence, nodding at you from time to time as a way of showing you his acknowledgement of you living here too. 

Of course Wade told you his story. Why he has to stay here, not paying rent which by this point is only secured because of you working your ass off to provide for four people. But with every day Logan showed more and more interest. Not just in you but in trying to be better. Helping with cleaning the dishes or doing groceries. Cooking dinner when you’ve been too tired to even think about eating anything. And soon enough, after one of your girls nights out and him picking you up from bar, he ended up in your bed. 

You were so sure that it would only complicate your relationship. Mess the somehow warm bond formed on mutual respect. But you couldn’t have been more wrong. He admitted that from the beginning he has perceived you as the beautiful and kind woman, having absolutely no idea why the hell you’ve still lived with Wade. That he feared about scaring you away by how broken man he was. 

And here you are now, laying on his chest slowly falling asleep with a bowl of popcorn on your chest. If that is what home feels like, then you don’t want to ever be anywhere else. 

“You with me, love?” You can feel his lovely smirk even though you can’t see it. 

“W-what?” His voice woke you up, getting you out of your own head. Looking at the TV you saw a completely different movie playing and you smiled to yourself. Nothing new for you to zone out like this. “Sorry, been somewhere else.” 

“I can tell.” His low chuckle was the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard. 

“So, what are we watching now?” 

“Dunno, wasn’t paying attention.” It made both of you laugh. For Logan the film was just a background noise, the most perfect and memorable image staged in front of his face. His whole world held tight. His big hand slowly started to move towards your bare leg under the blanket, which immediately tensed you up, moving it further from his grip, wrapping it tightly with the warm covering. “What’s wrong?” His voice grew more stern. It’s not  like Logan demands from you to let him touch you, but the fact of how abruptly you retreated,.. he is worried. Maybe he did something wrong. 

“Nothing, Lo.” You tried to smile and leave the topic but he didn’t let you.

“Don’t lie to me, princess. What have I done?” 

“Nothing!” You assured him, your words honest enough to make him believe you. Something was still off though and Logan made a point of finding out what it is. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“You are tense.” A simple observation. He doesn’t need to have heightened senses to know it. How your body is ready to move away. Logan brought your legs closer, trying to caress them once again, but without any luck. “Darling, what’s wrong.” His voice was demanding but still gentle. 

“It’s just… I haven’t shaved.” You admitted, embarrassed, trying to somehow hide from him. 

In your previous relationships, your exes expected you to be smooth and always shaved. Telling you how it was for the sake of hygiene and woman taking care of herself. Not wanting to be intimate or even touch you because of how disgusted they were by the small light hairs on your body. It root so deeply inside you that even while being single you’ve been getting rid of all your body hair, spending horrendous money on razors and waxing strips. 

But because of you having cold, you haven’t been able to go to shop for new ones. You didn’t want to ask Logan to buy you them, feeling ashamed of yourself for not having stocked some. It shouldn’t be his concern nor responsibility to spend money because of your stupidity. 

“Come again?” Logan prayed that he just misheard what you’ve just said. 

“I haven’t shaved.” You said a bit louder, defeated by the fact he found out. “I know it’s gross and I promise I will-“ 

But he didn’t let you finish. Switching your places so now he is the one on top of you, looking almost mad. 

“Listen to me very carefully, princess.” He caressed your hair gently, putting the string behind your ear. “I do not fucking care.” 

Why would he? It’s such a ridiculous thing that absolutely doesn’t change anything. He could imagine why or rather how planted thai bullshit in your head. Some young assholes that dicks weren’t even able to make you cum. But if you really thought that some hair would scare him away, make him not want to touch you, to devour you? Then you really don’t know him well enough. 

“You think I don’t wanna do this?” The blanket was thrown away, Logan slowly taking your sweats off, leaving you just in panties. Well now it was clear to him why you so suddenly decided to sleep in them the last few days. His lips gently pressed pecks on your calves and thighs. 

“Logan!” 

“Shh, darling, now I’m the one who’s speaking.” He wasn’t satisfied until your bare skin was cared with enough time and attention. “Fuck, you’re so perfect. My beautiful little miracle.” His palm caressed your cheek, while he kissed your lips lightly, the gesture full of admiration which made you blush. 

“But… I don’t understand.” You’re so confused. This is the opposite of what you’ve been used to in your past relationships. “Boys don’t like… don’t want-“ 

He shut you with another kiss, other hand firmly holding your thigh. 

“Yeah, exactly, baby. These idiots were boys who didn't know how to treat a goddess. I’m the man, sweetheart. I adore you. Every single part of your body. I can’t care less about you being shaved or not. I would love to have those legs around my head any second of the day, you understand?” His eyes were expecting any sort of answer but you were too stunned to ever say anything, so you just nod. “You’re a woman not a child and you don’t need to shave for me, princess. You expect me to be clean shaved?” Your head shook instantly. You loved his hair chest and how soft it was when your face was cuddled into him every morning. “Exactly. If you want to shave because you’re feeling better like that then it’s all fine, but don’t you dare assume that I’m thinking any less of you because you’re not, we clear?” 

“I… yes.” You honestly feel like crying. That’s one of the reasons why you loved Logan so bad. How he accepts you in every form, leaving you a choice to decide about yourself.

“Good. I think I need to prove it to you, though.” He teased your inner thigh with his big fingers, leavening a trail of kisses down your neck. “Just so you get it in your little head how this works me up.” 

“Lo…” You whined, his touch making you squirm. "I can't-"

“None of this, darling. Too late.” 

Week later you wake up, feeling aroused. A nice little thought comes to your mind and you quickly get your hips on both sides of Logan, sitting on his legs and wanting to wake him up with the nice sight. When he fully hardened and you were ready to blow him, his arm stopped you from taking his member in your mouth. You look up confused why the hell you are denied your sweet pleasure.  

“Fuck, I’m not shaved, princess.” His voice still rough from sleep, but his eyes are fully focused on you, smart smile undeniable. Teasing you by reminding you about your past stupid insecurity that he already had got rid off. 

“Oh shut up, idiot.” You blush a bit, can’t stop yourself from chuckling at that. With a simple shake of head you got back to the work, this time nothing stops your movement. 

[antebellum13]

I took this as a prompt and made a short little something!

Nine Lives, Nine Deaths

Draco Malfoy had always thought he was a reasonable man. He believed in logic, in carefully measured risk, in doing what had to be done to uphold the law.

And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of a bloodstained alleyway, wand still warm from the Killing Curse he’d just cast at Antonin Dolohov, and wondering how, exactly, his life had come to this.

It had started a few weeks ago. Subtle at first. A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a warm brush against his leg when he was sitting at his desk at the Auror Office. He had dismissed it as nonsense, a trick of the light, the kind of thing that happened when you were running on too little sleep and too much caffeine. But then it had escalated.

First, he started finding notes. Scraps of parchment that seemed to appear out of thin air, always scrawled in an unmistakable clawed script. Knockturn Alley. Behind the apothecary. Don’t forget your wand, little dragon.

Then came the whispers. Not in his head—no, Merlin help him, that might have been preferable—but in his bloody flat. At first, it was just rustling. A soft, knowing mrrow that always seemed to come from behind him when he least expected it. And then, on the third night, he woke up to find Crookshanks sitting on his chest, his luminous golden eyes fixed unblinkingly on Draco’s face.

You know what she deserves.

Draco had nearly hexed the bloody cat across the room.

Instead, he had sat there, frozen, as Crookshanks tilted his head and, with what could only be described as an exasperated sigh, hopped off the bed and strolled towards the window. When Draco had glanced at his nightstand, there had been a new scrap of parchment. Warrington’s estate. He’s alone. Make it hurt.

And so it had begun.

Draco knew it was madness. He knew it. But every time he tried to ignore the messages, the guilt would creep in, curling around his ribs like smoke. Every name Crookshanks had given him had been someone who had wronged Hermione in some way—Death Eaters who had escaped justice, men who had laughed about their crimes, who had walked free while she had been left with the scars. And damn him, but wasn’t this what he had always wanted to do?

The Auror Office had rules. Laws. But Crookshanks didn’t.

And Draco… well, Draco had always had a rather flexible relationship with morality.

Which was why he now stood in this alleyway, staring down at Dolohov’s corpse, knowing that Hermione was going to kill him.

Or at least, that had been the biggest of his concerns until he felt the unmistakable crack of Apparition behind him.

“What the bloody hell is going on, Malfoy?”

Draco winced before turning to face her. Hermione Granger was the kind of furious that made even the most hardened criminals consider immediate confession. Her hair was wild from the wind, her brown eyes blazing with something between rage and barely contained panic.

“This isn’t protocol,” she hissed, stalking closer, her wand gripped tight in her hand. “This isn’t—what have you done?”

Draco exhaled sharply and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, you’re going to think I’m crazy—”

“Oh, that broom has flown,” she snapped.

“—but your bloody cat told me to do it.”

Hermione froze. Her mouth opened, then closed. Then, after a long pause, she stared at him, slack-jawed, for a full minute. “You’re right,” she finally said. “You’ve completely lost the plot.”

Draco groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “I swear to you, Granger, I am not making this up.”

She crossed her arms, her expression unimpressed. “My cat—my eighteen-year-old, slightly overweight, perpetually napping cat—told you to go on a murder spree?”

Draco glared. “When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”

“That’s because it is ridiculous, you absolute menace.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I know how it sounds. But just—just trust me. Let’s take Dolohov and Apparate back to wherever it is you usually keep that mad cat locked up, and he can prove it.”

Hermione stared at him, her nostrils flaring slightly as if she were this close to hexing him into next week. But then something in her expression shifted—an unmistakable flicker of worry. Not about the murders, no, but about him.

She thought he was losing his mind.

Well. Maybe he was.

But she still grabbed his wrist, her grip firm and warm, and waited until he had a hold on Dolohov’s body before Disapparating them both.

The familiar tug of Apparition yanked them through space, and when they landed with a sharp crack, Draco barely had time to steady himself before he heard Hermione mutter, “Oh, you have got to be joking.”

Because there, sitting in her green armchair like some kind of mob boss, was Crookshanks.

Draco turned to Hermione triumphantly. “See?”

Hermione did not seem particularly convinced. “My cat sits in that chair all the time, Malfoy.”

Crookshanks let out a long, suffering sigh. Then, with the casual grace of a king addressing his most idiotic subjects, he flicked his tail and regarded Hermione with something almost resembling disappointment.

Oh, now you show up. Took you long enough.

Hermione screamed.

Draco had to bite his lip to keep from saying I told you so.

She staggered back, hands in her hair. “No. No, no, no—this is a stress-induced hallucination. I have not just heard my cat speak—”

Yes, you have.

She shrieked again.

Draco crossed his arms. “Not so funny when it’s happening to you, is it?”

Hermione ignored him in favor of turning her wild, frantic gaze on Crookshanks. “Since when could you talk? And why are you sending Malfoy on assassination missions?!”

Crookshanks yawned and stretched lazily. Since always. You just never listened. And as for Malfoy—well, he needed a nudge, didn’t he?

Draco lifted his chin, oddly proud. “See? I was chosen.”

Hermione groaned. “Chosen for what?”

Cleaning up after the war. Delivering justice. Handling unfinished business, Crookshanks said, grooming a paw with perfect nonchalance. And before you start whining about morality—tell me, Hermione, do you really think any of them deserved to live?

Hermione’s breath hitched. For the first time since they’d arrived, she hesitated.

And Draco knew, in that moment, that she wasn’t as horrified by him as she pretended to be.

Crookshanks’ eyes gleamed, knowing. Ah. Thought so.

Then he turned back to Draco, flicking his tail again in something like satisfaction.

Well done, little dragon. Well done indeed.

Crookshanks twitched his whiskers, his golden eyes gleaming as he returned his eyes to Hermione. Then, with a slow, deliberate stretch, he settled back into the chair like a king upon his throne.

Now, he purred, gaze sharp as a knife. We’ll need that brain of yours for this next mission. Greyback won’t be as easy to ferret out.

Draco turned to Hermione, arching a brow. “Well, Granger? Are you in?”

She stared at them both—the smug cat lounging in her chair, the ex-Death Eater standing beside a corpse, the undeniable pull of something darkly satisfying settling in her chest.

With a slow, measured breath, she straightened her spine.

“…Tell me everything.”

Mob AU but w a twist

[yellinginhell]

I had this idea about our beloved bg3 party as a real-life DND group AU in my head for a long while. I think I`ll never get to writing the big thing, because the amount of text I`m gonna have to write is Odyssey level. Unfortunately, I don`t have the time or the energy to focus on it after work. I made my peace with settling for less because there is one specific scene I can imagine writing, but it`s still only a draft as of now. Still, the ideas for each character and for the story as a whole were too important for me personally to abandon completely, so here goes.

ASTARION

Nothing too original here to be lore compliant. Unfortunately, he works at a club called «The Wasted Prayer» as a sex worker. The name of the club came from a dialogue piece between him and Gale when he says he tried calling to every god he could think of but no one answered

He graduated from Harvard Law School. Elle Woods style. Legally platinum blonde

One of the most popular metaphors for vampirism is addiction, so he keeps working for this AU`s version of Cazador because of that

Astarion is his character`s name of course. I thought his real name could be something so sweet that his life`s tragedy would seem even more devastating. Something like Angel

SHADOWHEART

Hot Topic queen. She works there. She also has about three million other part-time jobs. No one knows how she does it.

She uses the praying hands emoji all the time (this one )

At first everyone thought she was just a religious gal, nothing wrong with that. But the more she speaks about religion the odder her ideas become. There`s a slow realization that he «adoptive family» she grew up in was a full on cult. The cult stole her from her real parents whom she will definitely find one day

The best dressed. God`s favorite princess. God`s blackest lipstick. God`s skimpiest outfit.

The cult would give her a new name, something oldschool like Virtue or Prudence. Her real name would be Jennifer

GALE

Gale. Oh boy, Gale. He used to be a famous scientist along with that other cool professor who curated his work and was very interested in him (you got it! It was Mystra!) in every way possible if you know what I mean. Gale was never allowed to finish his studies because of a messy plagiarism conflict though. His field was strictly humanitarian, something like history. Mystra`s as well, so one day he just borrowed from her works because in his eyes they became so intertwined it didn`t even matter. She`s about 10-15 years older than him in this AU and took a liking to him when he was about 18-19 years old. Needless to say, their relationship was fucked up because of that power dynamic. Gale doesn`t fully comprehend that.

Gale is sure that there`s nothing to live for anymore. The orb in his chest represents his suicidal thoughts. He`s still a people pleaser, so he wants to off himself as soon as the campaign ends.

He works in a library and lives on its upper floor

He has a cat named Tara ofc!

Gale has a very good relationship with his mother, they call each other at least 2 times a week

KARLACH

She goes out of her way to hide her cancer diagnosis from the rest of the party. She got it while working for Gortash because of atrocious working conditions. She can`t afford the treatment, so she`s living every day like her last and tries enjoying it to the fullest while also not wanting to die. The treatment itself also scares her

Her name`s Kara

WYLL

BUT DON`T YOU WORRY! Prince Will (duh) to the rescue!

He`s the local mayor`s son but he has a difficult relationship with his dad

Wyll`s dad doesn`t approve of his relationship with Karlach

But Wyll couldn`t care less because he loves her and he`ll still do anything to help her stay alive

LAE`ZEL

I ship Shadowzel in this one so good for Lae`zel to have a goth gf

I think her name could be Liz (short for Elisabeth ofc but don`t you dare call her by the full name. She`s not a fan)

She has a prestigious military job despite being very young

She wants to go further in her career but certain parts of her character`s backstory imply that maybe… it`s not what she really wants…

HALSIN

A super chill guy who`s very nice in a chronically outside kind of way. Always wishes everyone good morning and good night in the discord group chat

He didn`t go far with his character`s name because his real name is Hal

His battle against Ketheric Thorm is based on his real life struggle to save the local park. A company called THORM ENTERPRISE would really like to destroy it and build a shopping center instead. I wonder how that goes…

MINTHARA

So I have a couple of weirdly specific ideas about her. Firstly, I think she`d be a cop. Secondly, her name would be Miranda. Thirdly, she has a very nice singing voice.

JAHEIRA AND MINSK

Listen, Jaheira is a DND pro. She`s old, okay? She`s been at it for ages!

I think that her real name is Eugenia Lesnova. She`s a Soviet immigrant who moved decades ago. She has no problem with technology whatsoever despite being a boomer. Others often joke that she`s a Soviet spy. She brings the best pirogi to every session. Her reasoning is that it`s way healthier than pizza that everyone would have ordered otherwise.

Jaheira is her classic character that she`s been playing for many years, so her backstory is very thought through and her roleplaying skills are out of this world.

Minsk is actually her son in this AU! He really wanted to join, so she helped him create his character.

WITHERS

The DM master who mysteriously disappears soon as the campaign is finished. Was it really Jergal? No. No way it was. Impossible. Right?

That`s all I`ve got for you today! As I said before, I`m definitely writing a piece of this AU as a fanfic pretty soon! It`s going to be about Isobel, Ketheric and maybe – just maybe – saving the park from the shadow curse?

I`d love to hear your thoughts and opinions about this AU or perhaps your very own modern AU ideas? Thank you so much for reading this! It means the world to me.

[humanjarvis]

caleb music headcanons

i'm receiving word about possible pirate caleb x siren reader myth and although that was not in my long and detailed plans for him (i've been playing this game for 2 months) it made me actually write these

caleb doesn’t pay much attention to his music taste. to him, music is mostly background noise—something to help pass the time while he’s studying or cooking

he isn’t very picky about genre; he’ll listen to anything, but low-stress indie songs bring him comfort. he finds new ones by shuffling a 12-hour playlist that updates weekly, but he has two or three bands that he checks up on every few months to see if they’ve released anything new 

has an undiscovered love for techno instrumentals, though

he seems disinterested in music on the surface, but it’s honestly because he cares about your taste in music more than his own

he would listen to the songs you liked when he’d drive you home from school, letting you practically use his dashboard as a punching bag while you impulsively switched between your top playlists. if his infotainment system had been sentient, it would’ve sighed every time you got into the car 

he takes note of your most played artists, looking them up to feel closer to you (and to see if they’re playing a show near you anytime soon—if so, he saves up to surprise you with tickets once or twice a year) ((two tickets. you’re going with him. together.)) 

his research comes in handy when you quiz him on boyband trivia, and the playful grin on his face hides his twitching eye when you gush over how cute you think the leader is 

caleb comes to truly appreciate music when he realizes how much it means to you. he comes home late one night to find you dancing and singing around the living room, bathed in the color-changing mood lights from your floor lamp and wearing the noise-cancelling headphones he got you a few months back 

he’d walked in on one of your frequent “music nights,” as you called them, and he was so enamored by the sight that he rarely missed one after that 

every music night since then, you switched out your headphones for a speaker in the corner of the room and welcomed caleb into your mini-raves. he seemed to have missed the “rave” part of the memo, though; he mostly remained idle on these nights, perfectly content to sit on the couch just watching you, outside of the rare times you managed to pull him up to dance with you 

you, on the other hand, were all over the place—sometimes you’d stand looking forlornly out the window, pretending to be in a sad music video; sometimes you’d make up your own choreography in the middle of the room; and sometimes, during the most energetic songs, you’d crawl all over him in excitement

caleb’s favorite music nights are the ones where you sing for him. don’t get him wrong—he loves having you use him as a jungle gym when a hype song is playing—but he can’t hold back his anticipation whenever a slow song comes on shuffle. each time, you collapse onto the couch next to him, turning your face into his shoulder

while your pulse slows, you begin reciting the lyrics you know by heart, the vibrations going straight into caleb’s chest. he pulls you closer to him and thinks this is an intimacy he’d like to live in forever, you crooning with your fingers in his hair 

pressed flush against caleb’s body, you eventually drift off to the rhythmic beating of his heart, and music night is over, for you at least 

but the night goes on a bit longer for caleb, who’d memorized lines from the ballads you sang to him and secretly downloads the songs after, so that the next time he’s away, he can listen to them and pretend it’s you 

[jiminjeonging]

Don’t you guys find it weird that big accs like sunshine, evon, seasonal fish or big korean accs are all jmj shippers. Idk it feels interesting to me even their personal fan accs like iberis(mj) or just(jm) are all shippers as well. Like all of big accs with 20k+ followers are all jmj shippers. I have never seen something like this in other groups 🤷🏻‍♀️ The traditional way in gg or bg accounts and shipping is

+There are big personal fan accounts(%90 korean or asian accs)

+News accounts for the group and big group accs(aespa japan, aespa china or MY international fanbase etc)

+Translate accounts for lives or shows

+Chart, stream and voting accounts

+Self made shipping and personal accs(us little guys)

+Lastly toxic akgae accs(the police and woke mafia)

Besides the last two none of these accs would ever show favoritism to a ship in a traditional group setting but %90 of them ships and roots for jmj. Now the funny thing is yes the girls are obsessed with each other, yes they are their each others biggest fans, yes we can see how much genuinely they care and love each other but they lack fan-service so I find it interesting that the whole nation ships them. I know aespa is in top 5 of worlds biggest kpop groups, both winter and karina are insanely popular and their ffs are all in top 10 and they have visual and natural chem etc. but this level of shipping and this level of trust in them is insane like the whole continent wants them to marry. So weird like no one believed karinas dating scandal(which was a pr we all know), everyone was so quick to clock people for winters dating scandals their fan accs literally warned people not to believe in them and rooted for jmj. The only people who were going crazy all apeshit was international fans.

So my point is lovely shroomrina and fellow jmjers I have a huge hunch that these accounts knows the real deal about them, knows what’s up and they don’t support and root jmj for nothing. I know we talk about homophobia in the fandom but this only happens in international side of twitter. I’m not trying to play detective or be delulu or idk push a narrative it’s just my mere observation. I could be wrong just wanted to share and hear opinions on it from you nat and other anons here! I know it’s long but I hope you take the time to read it! Thank you 🙏!

heyy sorry for the late reply but youre so right!! tbh accs like sunshine being jmjers doesnt really move me but both iberis and just having jmjers in their circle of friends makes me sooo delusional its crazy like they know every schedule of the girls and the girls talk to them when they see them so they have to know something yk??? everyone can see jmj’s chemistry!!

[caleeeeee]

Memory Ashes-Chapter 2

Previous Chapter：

Hi! Hi!

Due to my lack of energy in drawing, I've devoted most of my efforts to Fanfict. Well... I still don't have much confidence in my writing... and I'm not sure if I can arrange the development of the story coherently and correctly... and this time, I'm still using a translator!... Uh... I hope nothing goes wrong...

————————————————————

And I want to give a special thanks to @phantomfairs !! Seriously, I still get excited when I talk about this... As I said, I didn't have high expectations for my AU concept... but I really didn't expect someone to support me so much!!!Your amazing Fanart has become my motivation!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖

Ahhh... I still can't quite express my excitement in words... but! Your support is something I almost never want to forget... 😭😭💖💖💖💖 Thank you once again (❁´ω`❁)!!

————————————————————

The news of King Candy's rebirth spread throughout Sugar Rush in less than a day. The citizens spent the entire day discussing the matter. Some were shocked that this hypocrite hadn't disappeared, some feared he might turn the world into a living hell once again, and others hoped his code would be deleted from Sugar Rush.

As the ruler of Sugar Rush, Vanellope was one of the most emotionally affected by this event.

Calhoun and the soldiers had attempted to remove him from Sugar Rush, only to find that the exits were like an invisible barrier to him, preventing him from entering or leaving. Until they could devise a new strategy, they had no choice but to keep him imprisoned within Sugar Rush.

"Only a glitch in the game can't cross the barrier like a normal person..." Vanellope recalled her own situation before the game was reset, when she was considered an outcast, unable to escape her own game, and had to endure decades of loneliness.

But Turbo was different from her; he didn't belong to Sugar Rush at all. According to Calhoun, it was possible that he had been reborn after his death...

How could he possibly be reborn in a game that wasn't even his?!?!

This was a very serious and thorny issue. On one hand, they needed to keep him under control to prevent him from breaking out and plunging Sugar Rush into disaster again. On the other hand, they couldn't engage in a decisive battle with him, as who knows where in the world he might be reborn? Finding him again would be extremely difficult.

Vanellope knew that with the capabilities of Calhoun and the others, she didn't need to worry. But sharing a game with such a highly threatening individual... it was hard for her not to feel a constant sense of dread...

Her neighbors, Ralph and Felix, noticed her concern and often comforted her during their free time.

The soldiers' mission was far from over. They continued to patrol and guard the prisoner every day after the arcade closed.

Vanellope sometimes chatted with them.

"So you're saying... he's a bit different...?"

Vanellope looked at the soldier walking ahead of her with disbelief, struggling to keep up with his pace.

"...Yes, but it's hard to describe."

"Normally, a cunning and sinister guy like Turbo, who has gained the body and power of a Cybug, should become even more aggressive and evil."

"Didn't you say he even wanted to dominate all the games?"

"........."

"Yes..." Vanellope nodded.

"But when I unfortunately encountered him that one time, he didn't try to kill me. Instead, he gave me the opportunity to harm him..."

The soldier slowed his pace, complex thoughts spreading through his mind.

"I was at a loss, but I couldn't trust him, so I raised my gun and confronted him for a while."

"Confronted him for a while?"

"Didn't he react to your actions at all?"

"........." Markowski paused.

"I don't think so."

"Aside from blinking, there wasn't a single movement on his face, as if he had no idea what was right in front of him."

"Wow..." Vanellope didn't say anything more. She didn't know how to describe Markowski's bizarre experience. It was so abnormal that it was astonishing, and she couldn't figure it out...

...If Turbo was just pretending, what was his purpose in doing so?

To get himself discovered and then imprisoned again...?

In her memory, the only time she faced Turbo, the terrifying expression on his face was still vivid in her mind. She couldn't imagine... that pale face without any expression at all.

Vanellope looked up, about to ask more questions, but was interrupted by Markowski.

"You can't go any further, kid. Even though he's imprisoned now, he's still a big threat to someone like you."

" Hey!You promised I could come with you!"

"Yes, but I didn't say you could go in there with me." Markowski pointed with his thumb to a black building in the distance.

"You......!!"

"Listen, kid... I'm really grateful that you're willing to listen to the troubles on my mind... but this is my job. We can't let anyone from this game get close to here—especially not you."

"Please, Vanellope... we don't want anything to happen to you or anyone else here."

Markowski's tone suddenly became earnest, and Vanellope couldn't continue to insist...

".........Alright...Thanks anyway for everything you've done for us," she reluctantly turned and headed back.

That night, Vanellope lay in bed, recalling Markowski's words.

She really couldn't help but want to see... what this "completely different" Turbo that Markowski spoke of was really like.

It's not that she had any great concern or interest in Turbo himself. To be honest, she wasn't the slightest bit happy about his rebirth. It's just... after all, he possesses the power to destroy this game... As the person in charge here, her duties extend beyond racing; of course, she also has to ensure everyone's safety, which makes it hard for her not to think about this matter...

She began tossing and turning in bed.

◆◆◆◆

The dawn came quickly, and in the blink of an eye, it was time for the arcade to open.

Children swarmed in, crowding in front of one game after another, vying to be the first to insert their coins. The room was filled with laughter and chatter.

Every game console was busy entertaining its young customers.

Sugar Rush was no exception; it had always captured the hearts of many children. But today, when the kids grabbed the steering wheels of the game, they noticed that the little girl with a head full of rainbow-colored candy. was not appearing on the screen.

....

Behind the dense tangle of cables was the place where the criminal was held.

With her perfect "glitch" ability, she could easily navigate through the gaps in these wires.

The tall, black building stood out starkly against the overall style of Sugar Rush, as incongruous as drizzling hot sauce over ice cream—strange and frightening.

Vanellope swallowed hard and slowly walked inside.

The interior was larger and more spacious than she had imagined. Apart from the cables that crisscrossed like spider webs in mid-air and the large iron cage in the center, there was almost nothing else.However, the prison walls were embedded with various devices.Vanellope observed carefully. The cage occupied about half of the prison space, and cables extended into the interior of the cage.

...It was obvious what was being held inside.

The cage was pitch black and silent. Vanellope cautiously approached, careful not to make any noise that might startle whatever was inside... But even so, after just a few steps, she heard a low growl emanating from the darkness...

"Oh... my..." Vanellope prayed in her heart that he wouldn't suddenly rush at the cage and scare her.

She ultimately decided against moving any closer, as a pair of blood-red eyes suddenly lit up in the darkness... accurately locating her position... and locking eyes with her.

Vanellope felt a chill run down her spine.It seemed he didn't just rely on hearing and sight to detect intruders...

The growling grew increasingly intense, the massive sound waves almost vibrating Vanellope's small body along with them. She could hardly believe this was a sound a person could make... It sounded like a mix of many different creatures' voices... eerily spine-chilling...

Just as she was considering whether to run away from this bizarre creature, the strange noise abruptly stopped, and the glaring red light in the darkness gradually faded to a soft blue.

".........?"

The pair of pale blue "light bulbs" stared at her for a moment, then began to move downward, approaching her.

Vanellope heard it, like the sound of a metal shell scraping against the ground, emitting a sharp, grating noise...

She instinctively covered her ears because the sound was extremely uncomfortable.

Walking with Cybug's limbs wouldn't make such a noise, would it...?

A pink claw reached out from the darkness and grabbed the bars of the cage. As the screeching sound drew nearer, the body of the Cybug came into view before Vanellope.

He was much larger than she had imagined... Vanellope felt he could almost swallow her whole in one bite.

But he didn't do that. He just lay on the ground, staring at her.

Vanellope felt very uncomfortable under such a direct gaze. At first, she thought Turbo wanted to eat her, but as time passed... she began to notice that Turbo wasn't actually looking at her body... but at her hair—to be precise, the candy in her hair.

"Hmm...?"

Vanellope reached up and casually plucked a candy from her hair. Sure enough, his head tilted slightly downward, and his gaze shifted to the hand holding the candy.

"Ah-oh... that's not going to happen, sir!" Vanellope shook her head and placed the candy back in her hair.

Turbo seemed to understand her meaning. After a moment of dazed silence, his eyes dimmed, as if all the light had been drained from them....

Just as Turbo attempted to turn his body and retreat back into the darkness, he nearly scared Vanellope into screaming.....

Now she understood why every movement he made seemed so slow and difficult. The entire left side of his body appeared as if it had been sliced off by something—no leg, no arm, just exposed red flesh and clusters of wires that seemed to have been forcibly yanked from his body. These wires slithered on the ground like a nest of pythons, tangled together. The cables she had seen earlier, hanging in mid-air and extending into the cage, were now wrapped around his body like a spider's web...

With no support on his left side, his entire body leaned severely, making it impossible for him to walk or move like a normal Cybug.

Under the dim light... Vanellope noticed that every wire was coated with dried, blackened blood. The floor, the cage, and almost his entire body were stained a deep red.The wounds seemed temporarily sealed... but with injuries like these... the slightest touch would likely cause them to bleed profusely again.

"Oh my... oh my..." Vanellope gasped, horrified. She had never seen anything so gruesome and terrifying...

The screeching friction sounds she had heard earlier... were probably the noise of him dragging himself across the ground as he tried to approach her...

After all... he couldn't walk anymore...

"Wait... wait a second...!!!"Her shout caught his attention. Turbo turned his head back to look at this little girl.

"..........??"

"Uh... uh..." Vanellope stammered awkwardly. She had called out instinctively... without even thinking that Turbo would actually respond.

Vanellope began frantically rummaging through her pockets, afraid that if she was too slow, the creature before her would disappear back into the darkness.

Finally, she pulled some candies from her pocket.

"Are you... hungry...?" Her voice trembled slightly.As she expected, Turbo's eyes widened again, and he stretched his neck toward her.

Vanellope wasn't sure how to respond at first. She stepped closer to the creature who now evoked a pang of sympathy in her and raised her hand.

"Sorry... I don't have much... uh..."

[After all, she wasn't like the old king who used to scatter candy everywhere, with pockets always full of sweets.]

Before Vanellope could finish her sentence, she felt a strange sensation on her palm. When she looked again, the candies in her hand had vanished.

Oh... it was in his mouth, being chewed.

Vanellope took this opportunity to examine Turbo's face. Somehow... he really did seem different...Those unsettling sulfur-yellow eyes had turned into softly glowing pale blue. His helmet was gone, and a mess of long hair covered half his face. So far, she hadn't seen him make even a slightly exaggerated expression.

...Back when they last met, that terrifying look on his face was almost always present...

Vanellope frowned as she looked at him.

"And now, even the way you chew doesn't seem human."

She meant no offense, but he really did look like a wild animal that had been forcibly captured and caged. It might sound strange... but Vanellope was starting to feel a bit sorry for him.

Turbo ignored Vanellope's voice, focusing on enjoying his food. Soon, the candy in his mouth was gone.

Now the two of them were staring at each other again, and Vanellope still felt a bit awkward...

"...Hey..."

"King Candy...?"

"Can you speak?" Vanellope really wanted to talk to him.

But Turbo just lay on the ground, his face pressed against the floor as he watched the little girl.

"........."

"Then... can you understand what I'm saying...?"

Turbo still said nothing, as if he couldn't hear her.The only response was a gurgling sound from his throat.

"...Oh." Vanellope roughly understood his current state. It's not that he now looks like a wild animal, but rather that he clearly is a wild animal now!!!!!!!!

"Have you completely turned into a Cybug...?"

From what Vanellope knew, no one had ever undergone such a drastic transformation after being reborn... He was the first.

....But maybe that was for the best. Vanellope sighed in relief because, if that were the case, his simple brain probably wouldn't allow him to come up with any world-destroying schemes...

Vanellope sat by the edge of the cage, close to his head. He didn't back away or show any signs of hostility.

Summoning her courage, she reached her hand into the cage and patted his head.

Turbo reacted noticeably to this gesture, turning his face toward her.

Then... he squinted his eyes... and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

"Wow... looks like you're pretty happy."

◆◆◆◆◆◆◆

"Hey...! Hey! Markowski!!"

Vanellope called out loudly to the soldier not far away, jogging towards him as she did.

Markowski stopped and frowned, not expecting the little girl to come looking for him again.

"...What's up, kid? Coming to ask me the question you didn't get to last time?" Markowski watched Vanellope running towards him and smiled helplessly. "Seems like you're really interested in my experiences."

Vanellope didn't respond to Markowski's words. She was silent for a moment before slowly speaking up.

"I... uh... I've already met him..."

"...Wait, what?"

"I've already met him...!" Vanellope repeated, lifting her head. "He..."

"When did you sneak in there??! I clearly told you... Do you know how dangerous it is in there?!?!"

"Are you hurt??! Did he harm you?! Did he—"

"Calm down... calm down!" Vanellope loudly interrupted him.

"I mean... I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, but... he didn't harm me... just like you described to me, he didn't even show any hostility towards me."

"On the contrary, he showed me his friendly side..."

Hearing this, Markowski let out a sigh of relief.

"So..." Vanellope continued, seeing his reaction, "this time... I still want to ask you to let me come with you... after all, we're the only two who have experienced and care about this matter..."

"Hmm..."

"Alright, but you have to promise me that if you notice anything unusual about him, you'll stay as far away from him as possible."

"I promise!!" Vanellope nodded repeatedly.

Along the way, Markowski would occasionally glance at the little girl. He noticed that she often strayed from the path, running around to pick up branches that had fallen from the candy trees.

.........

Today, he was unusually quiet. When Vanellope walked up to the cage, she didn't see the familiar blue light, only hearing some faint breathing sounds.

"Oh... he's asleep."

She gently placed the branches she had collected along the way inside the cage. Since he was resting, it was best not to disturb him... Vanellope thought to herself as she slowly returned to Markowski's side.

"Back so soon?"Markowski said while inspecting the prison's mechanisms.

"Yeah..."

"What's wrong? Why do you look so down?"

Vanellope shook her head.

"......"

"Hey... kid, want to hear me talk?"

"To be honest, I really admire you."

"I've heard about your past, the times before our game was plugged in here."

"You were once abandoned and despised by everyone, suffering in your own game, enduring decades of loneliness and scorn, yet you remained positive and never gave up on your dreams..."

"........."

"I have to say, kid, our game has only been plugged in for a short while."

"Guess what? After just a week, I was already tormented by this life of constantly fighting bugs, feeling like I couldn't go on."

"Hahaha! Looks like I'm the stronger one then!"Vanellope suddenly laughed out loud upon hearing this.

"That's right! That's exactly what I mean!"

Time ticked by, and Markowski and Vanellope waited for about 40 minutes, but the sleepyhead showed no signs of waking up.

"Ah..."

"We really can't wait any longer, kid... I have to get back to the patrol on time..."

Vanellope checked the time; indeed, too much time had passed...

"Alright..."But just as she took a few steps towards the exit, she was suddenly pulled behind by Markowski.

"Hey...! What—"

"?!!!!"

Before Vanellope could react...

At the entrance... the prison's entrance... there were about four or five Cybugs advancing towards them...

This world indeed had more than just Turbo as a Cybug!!!! Markowski shielded Vanellope completely.

The group of monstrous creatures, upon seeing them, became even more frenzied and excited, each emitting horrifying and bizarre screams as they charged forward.

How could they have gotten in here?!? The defensive measures of this building weren't something that just anything could enter or exit at will... Moreover, if they had been in this world all along, why hadn't he or anyone else patrolling here for so long ever noticed any trace of these creatures???!?

Markowski pulled Vanellope to the side of the central iron cage and shoved her into the gaps between the iron bars.Her small body was completely sufficient for her to hide inside the cage, no matter what... he absolutely could not let this little girl get hurt...

He raised his gun, aiming it at those freaks.

If they dared to take one more step closer... he would definitely not be polite to them...

But suddenly, all the Cybugs stopped moving as if their power had been cut off.In the cage behind him, a neon-colored light instantly illuminated all the darkness, and the sound of wings buzzing filled the air.

It was the big guy... he had woken up...

Turbo's tall figure was silhouetted against the strong light, his eyes looking down at everything before him. Markowski saw the wires inside the wound on his left side hanging in the air like vines—given his recent condition, he couldn't stand, but if he relied on his wings... the outcome would be different.

He stretched his neck and let out a strange roar, not loud, but the immense force almost shook the entire prison. The Cybugs, as if they had received some command, after a moment of stiffness... all turned around and quickly left...

After that, he descended, slowly lying down.

Flapping his wings seemed to quickly drain his energy...

"Kid...! Are you okay?!" Markowski asked anxiously as he saw Vanellope jump down from Turbo.

"Ah... I'm fine!!"

"It's just..." Vanellope was still shaken... she could hardly make sense of what had just happened...The two of them just stared at each other in a daze.

"...Was he protecting us just now...?"

"........."Vanellope thought for a moment, then nodded.

"...Maybe so."

".......I need to go outside and check if those beetles are still around... you stay here and don't move, kid..."Before Vanellope could respond, he ran out.

Watching Markowski's retreating figure, Vanellope turned her gaze back to Turbo.

She gradually calmed down.Although she felt it was quite unusual... it was undeniable that Turbo had helped them...Vanellope thought that Turbo must have been communicating with those Cybugs just now.

Looking at the Cybug still panting heavily, she ran to fetch the candy branches she had piled up earlier and placed them near his face this time.

Turbo clearly sensed something and immediately grabbed the pile of branches to munch on.

...Speaking of "communicating"...

During this time, Vanellope heard Turbo make many different sounds, but she never heard him utter a single word... No matter what she said to him, Turbo never gave a clear response.

The last time they met,she conducted a little experiment on Turbo. First, she tried saying something with a completely blank expression. Then, she repeated the same words, but this time with obvious facial expressions and gestures. She noticed that Turbo reacted slightly more to the latter than the former.

"Oh...right... you can only understand me through expressions and gestures..."Vanellope sat on the ground, watching the creature munching on a branch. Even though they had met once before...she still felt strange and uneasy about treating him like a wild animal. She had always hoped to have a conversation with Turbo... even if it was just a sentence or two... To be honest, when she first decided to visit him, she had already prepared herself for the possibility of being met with harsh words...

She tilted her head slightly and sighed.

However, this small action caught Turbo's attention. He suddenly stopped eating and raised his head.

"......Huh...?" Vanellope instinctively looked up as well, only to find herself directly meeting his gaze.

"Oh... uh... I'm fine!!" she said, shaking her head vigorously.Even though they had spent several days together, this big creature still managed to startle her from time to time...

He remained unmoved. Vanellope watched as he moved his tail to the front, rummaging through the pile of branches. Eventually, his tail wrapped around a smaller branch and extended it through the gaps in the iron bars, offering it to her.

"Uh......"

Turbo's movements froze at that moment, as if waiting for Vanellope to respond.

She cautiously took the branch, and Turbo's tail released it. He lowered his head again, busy with his own affairs.

Vanellope hesitated over whether she should say thanks, but realizing that even if she did, he wouldn't understand, she remained silent.

It seemed that in the world of Cybugs, hunger was the only thing worth worrying about.

But it was clear that Vanellope wasn't hungry, and even if she were, she wouldn't resort to chewing on a branch picked up from the ground... Although they were in a candy world where, strictly speaking, everything was edible, it still felt a bit different from what she considered food...

But... come to think of it.

She was quite surprised that Turbo actually cared and started protecting her.

Vanellope felt a complex mix of emotions inside...

The person in front of her was none other than Turbo, the arrogant and paranoid tyrant who had persecuted her for decades, the monster who had been willing to destroy everything for his own gain, the one who had sought to turn all game worlds into hell...

She should hate him, despise him.

But......

"Hey! Vanellope!"Markowski called her name at the prison entrance.

"Everything's fine outside, get up, it's time to leave !"

◆◆◆◆

It was already quite dark. According to the schedule, after the soldiers finished their daily patrol, one of them had to be assigned to check the prison's mechanisms once again.

Turbo opened his eyes; he sensed someone approaching.

The soldier began his routine check of the various devices to ensure they were functioning properly. Turbo's gaze followed him, watching as he moved from one place to another, fiddling with switches and buttons.

Finally, after he had touched all the devices, he turned and peered into the dark iron cage.

...Inside, there was nothing but a faint blue light.

After so many days, Turbo had gradually come to understand the daily tasks of these soldiers. He also knew what he would face once they finished inspecting all the devices.

Usually, as long as he didn't move too quickly or make any large movements, the cables on his body wouldn't electrify.

But every day, after the soldiers finished their inspections, they would manually turn on the cable switch to ensure this crucial control measure was functioning properly.

Every time... the piercing, knife-like electric current would surge through his entire body...

It hurt... so much...

...Were they still afraid that a Cybug, with half its body nearly sliced off, would escape...?

"........."Turbo curled up as much as he could. He had long prepared himself to endure the pain.

But this time, the soldier didn't press the switch. He stared blankly into the dark cage for a moment, then silently left with his gun in hand.

"............?"

Oh... Turbo realized who had come today...

Among all the soldiers, only he had never turned on that switch.

Turbo slowly relaxed his tense body, yawned, and rested his head on his arm.

Tonight, he wouldn't have to endure the excruciating pain before falling asleep. He felt a great sense of relief...

In the castle, Felix gently pushed open the door to a room.

"Hi Vanellope! Good evening!what's the matter calling me over so late at night?"

[lottepriant]

How I Play

Content Note: This post discusses CNC, intox play, needles, emotional sadomasochism, fear play, (hypnotic) knifeplay, and a few other bits. It's not particularly detailed, but it is vividly described and quite brutal in tone.

---

Whenever someone asks me how I play, the answer must sound evasive: "I start with emotion first" or "I play talky." Perhaps you've heard I'm a hypnotist, perhaps you've heard I'm terrifying - but you don't quite know why. From both sides of the slash, I like CNC - "but not the roleplay kind." What does any of that mean, anyway?

Well.

—

She's stopping herself from shaking, feeling the cold steel of my knife against her throat. It's new, you see, and I never told her what it was. "I'm sorry, dear, it's been fun. But I think I've had enough of you now." A tear running down her cheek. "Please, tell me it isn't real." The only response she gets is the knife pulled across her throat.

—

I’ve been scared of needles since before I can remember. I used to sleep covering my wrists and neck, just in case. I told her this, and she grinned. I told her it was as close to a hard limit as it could be without being one. From the first needle, I couldn’t feel anything but the metal under my skin. The invasiveness. “It feels wrong,” I repeat, in a quiet voice I barely recognise. A single tear rolls down my cheek. I don’t feel it.

—

We’re just chatting after two hours of scene-ing. Both a little tired, her a little out of her mind with the remnants of trance. She calls me vampiric. I tell her if that’s true, she won’t be able to see me in the mirror. I flicker in and out of her vision - apparently she’s far enough away from the aftermath for it to not quite stick.

In a flash, I’m across the room, hand on her throat, eye to eye. “If you know what’s good for you,” I began. “You’ll know what not to see.” I let her go. Suddenly, I had no reflection.

—

At 29 years old I had never had alcohol. Not strictly true, but close enough. No nights out at University, no pints at the pub, no glasses of wine with a pile of marking. That night was my first. Me, her, and a bottle of red wine. Before I realised what was happening, her hand was in the back of my hair. The then-unfamiliar burning of alcohol hit the back of my throat. An entire glass in just a few seconds.

It doesn’t take long before I feel it. With no experience, and no tolerance, it hits me harder than anything else. I’m dead weight as she throws me onto the bed. I know she fucked me, but I don’t remember it - but I can feel it, any time I drink wine. I feel weak, helpless, and useable.

—

I don’t remember when she conditioned the response. The first time I noticed, I was limp, half conscious, and collapsed into her before I even smelled the perfume. We were at a kink party and playing show and tell. Every pair of eyes in the room is on her as she explains that she’s a hypnotist, that she does long-term conditioning work, that she has brainwashed me. 

I’m there to be shown off, and I collapse again, in her lap, as she grabs me with a hand with just a dab of that sandalwood scent on her wrist. She just keeps talking. I can’t make out my own thoughts, let alone her words, but I know I’m being watched.

—

She’s never been hypnotised before. Even this time, there’s no pocket watch, there’s no “Sleep!”, just submission and the right words in the right place. Her body is doing things she can’t quite believe, not moving when she wants it to. She feels more than she did before. But it’s not just her body.

I pull a string, and she grins, ecstatic. I pluck another, and fear flashes across her face. Underneath it all, confusion - that this can happen. That what you’re feeling can be so malleable to the right word, the right gesture, the right touch. “Isn’t it funny?” I ask. She answers with a laugh.

—

Emotional sadism is easy, once you know how. You find something sore - something deep, something hidden, something ideally that they can’t admit to themselves - and you poke it. You keep poking it. You twist your words into it until something gives.

It’s our second date. I’m crying in her lap, and it's not because of the black-purple bruises across my tits - that was just softening me up. She never raised her voice, not even once. She never needs to. She told me things - awful things - running her fingers through the cracks of my deepest insecurities. Everyone can tell, she explains, everyone who sees me can see this. Can see what I’m for. After a while, I’m completely silent, but the tears are still flowing.

— 

There’s gentleness, too, in my dynamics and my play, but there’s always power. I am a tapestry of ideas woven into me. She calls me “My Darling Girl” and, without thinking, I’m small and helpless. Looking up at her with wide, adoring eyes.

We’re at dinner, and, without thinking, I pick up the water jug, and I pour. Starting with the person on my left, clockwise. I’m still holding the conversation, but I feel warm - right. Whole. A little smile crosses my face, as I feel her hand guiding mine.

—

How I play is broad, but there is a theme to it. The point to me is “not just to come, but to come undone.” There are more and less extreme versions of this, small ways to fall into another’s orbit and large ones to feel yourself disintegrate. To do and feel things that challenge who I am and how I feel. To feel the high of feeling someone shatter under your words and fingertips.

And it is, to me, magic.

[mewtwobootleg]

aughhh…. I can’t believe just how fudging HORRIBLE this world is!!

I don’t understand… why like… people are so horrible!!!😭

they were given so much grace! So much love! But we STILL fudging hurt and hate each other!

I don’t understand why everyone says they want to hurt the current president… saying certain people deserve to burn up in hell…

whether you believe in the true God or not, that is HIS decision to where they go. Not YOURS! Love them, you’re no better!!😡

I don’t know why I���m here, what my purpose is, sometimes I feel it would be better if I was dead!

but no… if only we realized the love, the care, the goodness we can bring to each other, maybe you could make things better!

what good is it to love, when what you do helps you earn it?

what good is the knowledge that there is good and also bad? The fact that you KNOW that proves that there is HOPE!

I also don’t understand why people are always like; “God’s not real, we’re just here” THAT DOESNT MAKE SENSE! WHY ARE WE HERE THEN? THERE WAS THIS ONE BOOK FOUND IN THE JARS IN THE CAVE, THE SCROLLS THAT IF YOU TAKE ONE MINITE TO LOOK AND ACTAUKLY FUDGING READ, IT CAN HELP YOU! IT HELPED ME! IT MAKES SENSE!

All the other religions in the world… you have to work to get your goal. But in the Word, you get the free gift of Christ! It’s amazing! And even if you don’t believe, what’s the point of mocking a beautiful story? You’re just a hypocrite!

SUYHHSHSHA

It’s just… the Bible was written in a span of a fiew hundred years… and even in EVERY story… each whispers His name! even the ones written hundreds of years before Christ was ever written!

and also… why in those times of war, in times of things, why would people gather to write a huge story that all lines up and still is 100% preserved today when they had to worry about living? They didn’t say it was just a big epic… they said in every story that IT WAS THE WORD OF GOD! THE WORD TO HIS PEOPLE! US LOST POEPLE!!

I don’t understand… if you are one to believe, why would you say you identify as an animal or a demon or something? LOOK AT YOURSELF! GOD MADE YOU HUMAN. IF YOU FEEL OTHER, THATS WORLDY, SINFUL DESIRES! God gave you free will, to CHOOSE Him… so you would truly know that He so loves you. You were made in His image! To think that you’re other… it’s RESISTING A BLESSING HE GAVE YOU! When we turned away and did the things not of what the One commanded us to help us, we were choosing the wrong path…

This life… the way He made it and how I believe… it’s a test. To see if we will be who He believed we could be. He loves us so, and He wants us to be the fighters who build the new heaven and new earth. The ones to helped gather strugglers. The ones who don’t know their purpose. If you’re that desperate, read the Word! It actually makes sense, because we won’t understand everything an all powerful God does. It will at least give you something to do in life. It will give you the true fighting spirit.

I really don’t know much at all… I’m dumb… but knowing Him really changed me. It’s like a sheep lost… and the shepherd never stopped looking. He found me. I’m safe. The Spirit guided me.

It’s just… if you’re lost, hopeless, believing that changing your identity or gender is the right thing, believe me, it may feel good, but feeling guilt after doing something seemingly right means it’s wrong. And look to the Word… God made you YOU, male or female in his image, and HUMAN. We are all equal. Jesus came to earth to help make this test easier, explaining the right things to do, being a living, walking example to generations to come. It explains the mains, and the rest you can find. Seek… you’ll find.

It just… makes me wanna fudging cry. God sent his son to us because we were struggling, but we abused our helper, and even though He proved His power and love for us, we still hurt and hate him, confused and lost. He gave us his Holy Spirit to guide us in the dark, He gave us Heaven if we follow the narrow path, and most important, He gave Himself. And even now, when we need Him most, when we’re failing, we go to worldly things, when He gave us more than we could ask for, and we’re still denying His gift??

I know I’m just a little dumb 13 year old that’s wondering what’s going on and why I’m here and stuff, but I have this chance to maybe share my ramblings of what I believe and how it’s affected me… and maybe others will find the way too.

sorry…

I know this sounds like absolute crazy stuff to actually believe, but if you just… take a chance, open the Bible, read it… for me? For Him?

The next time you’re feeling down…pick it up, ok?

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

Kinned Jim Kirk a lil too hard and now I have 500 million allergies

[wormchaser]

you are complaining about complaining too much while complaining about the fact that maybe people dont like you because you complain too much while complaining about being alone. just stop complaining and do something about it. talk to people. reach out. dont just wait for someone to come to you first.

i have tried reaching out to different people in the past year or so but it never works. i understand its my own fault for letting relationships decay because of my own insecurities and issues but that doesn't mean i can just will myself to think or believe different things about myself. it's a self fulfilling prophecy ; i think people don't like me so i don't reach out so people don't like me etc . i am sure you do not want to hear me list all the things i want to say in response so i will put them in the tags.

[tittyinfinity]

contemplating deleting my blog soon I might make a new blog but idk

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5