#near indestructible

[fjordfolk]

Way too much focus on designer breeds that should not be, not enough on the dogs history failed to breed-ify. like the Soviet Space Dog

[da-shrimping-station]

Devildom Durability

I think things/objects in Devildom are more durable by default cuz yk, demons. They're stronger than humans and need stuff to be long lasting to keep up with their naturally long lives. There's also the perk of something being pretty damn fireproof or resistant to acid. Heck, maybe even magic-proof to some degree. Clothes more resistant to wear and tear. Infrastructures being nearly indestructible unless someone went on a rampage and really went ham with both brute force and magic. Even the paper takes at least a century or two to become yellow from age!

Items being advertised to last forever and they probably ain't lying.

Which is good for a clumsy OC/MC! Oh you always drop your phone? Well don't worry, your DDD can take a hit from a sledgehammer and not have a single scratch! Pulled something too hard? Nah you just jiggled it a lil bit. Dropped something? Not a dent on the item or the floor.

The only thing you're in danger of breaking is your own fragile human bones 😀😄

And wouldn't it be so funny if a human OC/MC accidentally break something out of anger/adrenaline/excitement/etc...

[picklepie888]

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Drew this based on this comfort character drawing prompt on Twitter.

[blossoms-and-possums]

50 cents to get riptide in multiple colours 🫡

what a bargain. i fucking love kmart

[softquietsteadylove]

[Mermaid Thena/fishermen Gil AU]

Heyyyyy I just wanted to know if you could do one where thena splits her tail and spends a day with gil on land? I think it would be really cute to see thena trying to understand the humans strange ways! (Gil would find it cute too!🤭)

Btw I love for your thenamesh fanfics <3

Thena jumped as another bolt of lightning split the dark skies outside the window.

"What did you do on days like this before?" Gil asked as he tightened another screw behind her.

"Most don't do a lot of swimming," she shrugged, leaving her seat below the window and joining him on the floor again. "It's like walking on a windy day--not unmanageable, but far from pleasant."

Gil grinned, nudging her ever so slightly with his elbow against hers. "Look at you, talking about going for walks."

Thena smiled at his praise, tucking some hair behind her ear. She watched as he moved to a different screw, bringing the pieces of wood together. "What is this?"

Gil made the final twist of the screwdriver as she picked up the instruction booklet. "The store has fancy names for everything, but really, it's a regular shelf."

"Bookshelf?"

"Exactly," he confirmed, accepting another screw from Thena for the other side. "Although I want it for something other than books."

"What are we going to put on it?" she asked, and Gil got that funny smile on his face again. He got it sometimes when she asked what they were going to have for dinner, or what they were going to watch on the box.

"Well, I was thinking it could kind of," he made a shy kind of expression and shrugged his shoulders, "be yours. So you can put your stuff on it."

"My stuff?" She tilted her head as he stood the frame of it upright, making a wooden box with an open front and back.

"Yeah, like the things I bring you home from work, or just things you would want to keep here and look at."

Thena considered it. There were other shelves in the house, ranging from the shelves in the kitchen that held their food, to the shelves in Gil's office room, although he was moving around the things inside there an awful lot lately.

Some of the shelves in the living room had things Gil had found while fishing--shells and bottles and treasures of that sort. She lifted her hand to touch the necklace safe around her neck.

Gil looked out the window after another roll of thunder boomed outside. "Will Ikaris be worried about you in this weather?"

Thena rolled her eyes; she had not forgotten about her brother and his recent 'visit'. "He'll be fine. Makkari and I would often go current surfing in weather like this."

"That sounds--fuck."

Thena looked over at Gil and the sudden exclamation. She didn't really know what it meant but it only ever came out in times of frustration. "What's wrong?"

He sighed, examining one of the screws he had added. She had seen him use them before, when he had replaced the door hinge (which she had broken accidentally). "It's gone in crooked. I'll have to get it out."

"Hm," Thena mused as she scooched closer on her knees on the rug. Gil attempted to unscrew the thing but it seemed quite solidly driven in.

"Okay," he grumbled, leaning back on his heels as he looked around them. There were a few spare screws, another two shelves to add, and all the packaging spread out around them.

"I can try," she offered, leaning in to see what he had done, and how to undo it.

"It's okay, it's not--Angelfish!"

Thena gripped the screw in her teeth and pulled, dragging the metal right out of the pressed board. She dropped it into her hand and licked her lips with a frown; it tasted awful.

"A-Are you okay?"

She smiled; Gil could be panicky at times, but she knew it came from a very caring place. She held up the screw for him, "here."

He looked between her and the thing in his palm a few times. "Your teeth are pretty strong, huh?"

Thena tilted her head at him to the right, watching as he made another attempt at things. She moved it in the other direction to see what would change in her perspective. "Yours can't do that?"

"Nothing like that," he smiled as he adjusted it more to his liking this time. "Our teeth are pretty strong, but I think I'd chip a tooth if I tried what you just did."

"Hm," she mused as she resumed watching him work. She liked watching him use tools and do small tasks like this. He seemed so focused on them, and it was fascinating to watch his hands utilise the different kinds of tools he had for different things. "Sorry Ikaris drowned your toolbox."

"That's okay, Angelfish." And he meant it, too, because he never seemed to tell lies. He looked at her as he twisted the screwdriver over and over. "Maybe it's time for a new one, anyway."

"Oh?"

"Actually," Gil muttered as he tested the sturdiness of the shelf before reaching for another. "Maybe I'm overdue for a run to the market."

Thena tilted her head at him, hoping he would keep going until he reached his point.

He gave her a wink, which made something in her stomach flip like a salmon in a waterfall, "wanna come with me?"

Thena leaned forward on her hands and knees, getting nice and close to him, "really?"

He nodded, setting down his tool and reaching for her hand. "I think it might be okay if I take you with me. We'll go on a weekday, to the far side of town, you can stretch those legs of yours. What do you think?"

Gil laughed as she threw herself against him, her arms around his shoulders like he did for her often. He was so sturdy he managed not to fall backwards even with all of her weight suddenly leaning on him. He rubbed her back through the soft shirt she was wearing (a hoodie, he called it; it was the comfiest of all of them yet).

She sighed, purring against his arm as the scent of him washed over her. There was plenty of his scent on his hoodie, too, but being close to him was like being over a steam vent, or lying in a sunbeam on an embankment. It made her brain feel foggy and her body feel relaxed.

Gil let her settle in his lap, his legs bending around her with his hand at her shoulder. "Maybe we can find something for your new shelf."

"I have to add the things I already have." She was referring to the little trinkets Gil had brought her already, from a marble to a uniquely coloured shard of seaglass, to a toy he got from buying lunch one day.

"There'll be plenty of room," he promised, sitting back and admiring their - his - work. "Hungry?"

She nodded.

"I'll put on some lunch. Do you want a snack?"

"Yes please," she smiled, although him cooking did mean she couldn't sit in his lap anymore (unfortunate). "Sardines?"

"Comin' right up!"

[agdab]

some FUCKING day i will find someone who makes tungsten rings who will do an exact copy of my wedding ring. so help me fucking god.

[duckapus]

Despite not having any training, skill, or even a real sword, Mario actually does surprisingly well in the tournament. He definitely wouldn't have won even if it hadn't been revealed as a trap partway through, but he would have placed pretty high.

[evecolourshock]

Ooh, thanks for the tag!! @alanbradleyofficial @computerwarrior as per above, and also @betasuppe would you like to do this??

Random Animal Generator - Perchance

[minotaurfemme]

what if i bought a cheap old honda 125 and fucked off for like a month

[rosenclaws]

The Wolverine and His Bunny || Logan Howlett x Bunny Girl!Reader

summary: You and Logan have always butted heads and his constant, condescending reminders of your mutation don't help. It's not until your forced to train together and well, the tension is undeniable

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, rough sex, a variety of bunny themed nicknames (Bunny, thumper, carrots), creampie, manhandling, pain kink (Logan), doggy style, dirty talk, blow job, mirror sex, slight choking, degradation, praise, he plays with your bunny ears oops, enemies to lovers kinda? Logan's a dick at first, teasing, being pinned down.

Don't like it don't read it :)

Halloween Masterlist

wc: 3.7k

a/n: Okay look, I thought this was hot and so I wrote it. Anyways happy October first everyone! Hoping to add my degeneracy to the long list of fics to come. This also ended up being more. angsty than i mean it to be. I think I have an angst problem oops

You hated him so much. He was. He was just a massive dick for no reason and you hated people like that. You get that he was the all mighty Wolverine who was indestructible or whatever but if he could act like a normal person for once in his life that would be great.

He wasn't even the leader of the damn team and yet every one seemed to act like he walked on fucking water. It's not like he was the only one on the team either. He may tell everyone he's a loner and he doesn't need help but we're the X-Men. Not just Wolverine.

It's just not fair.

You had the perfect plan. Planned down to the very second and Logan had to go and fuck it all up. Maybe it was an honest mistake but you highly doubted it. He always had a problem with you. You didn't understand why. The moment you showed up to the mansion he was hostile. Calling you stupid, condescending nicknames because of your mutation while ignoring the part of it that made you super smart.

You were fuming when the team got back from the mission. You stormed right past everyone to get to Logan. They shoot you apologetic looks but you paid them no mind.

"Logan!"

"What's got your panties in a twist bunny?" He leans against the jet hangar door. A cigar already lit in his mouth.

"Don't call me that asshole!" You shove his chest but he doesn't move. Your nose twitching in anger as he just laughs.

"I had a plan Logan. A good plan. A perfect. Plan. So tell me why as soon as you had the chance to, you ruined it!" He scoffs and blows a puff of smoke in your face. Your ears flatten against your head as you wave the smoke away.

"We finished the mission didn't we?." He says with a smirk. If this were a cartoon you'd surely have steam coming out of your ears by now.

"God you're nothing but a slimy little weasel sometimes!" You push your finger into his chest. He pushes your hand away and bares his teeth like an animal.

"You have no idea what it's like to actually be on the field so why don't you tuck your little tail between your legs and run back to the lab."

"Logan! That's enough." Jean scolds him harshly as you turn around and storm out of the room.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes but you force them down. Fuck him, you were an important part of the team. Whether he liked it or not.

It's like he lived to torture you. Ever since the day you told him off he seemed to just. appear. Constantly. Wherever you were he was there too. In the kitchen? He strolls right in for a soda. In the training room? He's already there. All sweaty and grunting and gross. You're outside near the water fountain, guess who strolls right on up. It was like he was stalking you or something.

Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps approaching your classroom. You taught most of the high level classes, the advanced ones for students who wished for more academic classes. So their tests were more complex to grade which is why you were still here so late into the night. Your nose twitches as a familiar scent fills your nose. Without even looking you let out a long sigh.

"What do you want weasel?"

"Now that's not very nice of you." Logan says with a smirk as he sits in the chair across from your desk. He puts his feet up on your desk. Right on top of the stack of papers.

"Can't you go bother someone else? Please. Like anyone else." He grins and you roll your eyes.

"But I just love your company." His voice is dripping with playful sarcasm.

"You're going to work yourself to death carrots. It's not good for you." The truth is he came to try and apologize for the other day but he just hasn’t found the right time. Okay well there’s been good times but he was never able to get the words out. So here he is trying his best.

He stands up and leans over your desk. You have to admit he's certainly an overwhelming presence. His face is inches away from yours, eyes staring into your soul with a wolfish grin on his face. He picks the pen out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder.

"Why not take the stick out of your ass and have a little fun?" Wow, for a second there you almost thought he cared.

"You know what Logan, just leave me alone."

"You know I'm trying to be nice here and all I'm catching is attitude." He growls. You slam your hands on the desk and stand up. Getting close to his face as your ears flatten. "

Nice? You think you're being nice?" You laugh in his face and he pushes back. Papers fly everywhere.

"Fine, work yourself to death I don't fucking care." He storms out of your room and slams your door loudly.

"Asshole!" You yell back. You turn back to see the mess of papers and sigh. Great, now your night got even longer. Logan mutters angrily as he stalks through the halls. So much for trying.

It's been at least a couple weeks since that night with Logan and thankfully he's finally decided to leave you alone. You barely saw him and in a weird way, you kind of missed him. Kind of. Barely. In fact you really enjoyed the peace. Your ears definitely didn't perk up when you heard Logan's voice on the other side of Professor Xavier's office. You push through the door and find Logan looking very pissed off.

"You wanted to see me?" You glance over at Logan who was fuming silently.

"Yes, I think it's time you join the team. On the field." You widen your eyes in surprise. You never considered yourself to be a field agent. Your mutation wasn't exactly built for combat. You were speedy but that's about it. Strategy and smarts were much more your speed.

"I think bringing you out on the field would be an immense help to your battle tactics. As Logan so kindly put it, being on the field is different from watching on the outside." You flash back to the harsh words Logan had said to you a while ago.

Logically it would be helpful for you to observe what missions were like first hand but you don't think you needed to be there. Still to get yourself a suit and be part of the team sounded nice too.

"And since it was his idea, Logan will be your instructor."

"What?!"

"Absolutely not." Charles gives you both a look, one that said to quiet down and you both reluctantly listen.

"I am not a fool,  the two of you need to learn to work together. My decision is final." His tone leaves no room for argument and the two of you leave with scowls on your face.

"Alright thumper, here’s how it’s going to go. Tomorrow. 7am in the training room. Think you can handle it?” He places his hand near your head. You roll your eyes and duck under his hand.

“Yeah yeah, see you then Weasel.”

It feels like this was meant to be a punishment more than an assignment. You get that you and Logan haven’t. exactly gotten along but to stick you together like this? That’s just mean. You showed up right at 7am the next morning dressed in workout clothes. Logan is already there dressed in his little gray sweatshirt, white tank top and sweatpants.

“So you didn’t run away? Good bunny.” He smirks as your face scrunches up in anger.

“Fuck off.” You’re already dreading this. If you could just survive an hour then you could never deal with him again.

"Okay, show me what you got." He stands in the center of the mat. Arms at his side with an expectant look on his face.

"What?"

"I heal bunny, so give me all you got. I need to see what I'm working with here." You take a deep breath and launch an attack.

You weren't helpless by any means but you weren’t on the same level as Logan, even you could admit that. He barely flinched as you darted around the room. Striking him in a few places but he just stood there. It was starting to piss you off. You get that you weren’t the fiercest but he could at least try and fucking help instead of wearing you out like this. You look around the room and see wooden poles used for combat training. He never said you had to just use your hands. You dart across the room and grab one, swinging it hard against his back. To your surprise it completely breaks. Shattering on impact. He grabs the broken half that’s left in your hands and pulls it out of them.

“That’s cheating,”

“No it’s not. I was just using my resources.” He laughs and grabs your wrist. He slowly backs you up until you hit the wall.

“Oh yeah? What you’re gonna find a really big stick out in the field?” He mocks.

“This is useless.” He lets go and walks away from you.

You feel anger bubbling up in your chest. You don’t belong. You’re useless. What good are you to the X-Men? You are sick and tired of hearing shit like this all the fucking time and Logan was the worst about it. You launch yourself at him. Running as fast as you can and jumping on his back. It blindsides him, he tumbles to the ground. He grunts as you start to hit his back hard.

“What is your fucking problem!” He pushes you off and you wince as you hit the mat. You scramble away before he can get up and jump back onto him. Legs straddling his waist as you push his shoulders.

“Why do you hate me so much?! What did I do to you?!” You take a swing and hit him square in the jaw. He looks surprised but shakes it off easily. He doesn’t fight back, more in shock than angry at this point.

“I get that I don’t have metal claws and I can’t move stuff with my mind but I’m part of the team too!” You swing your fist again but he catches it this time. He grabs your other one and pushes you to the ground roughly.

“Fuck off!” You hiss as he crawls on top of you. He’s heavier than a fucking boulder as he practically pins you to the ground.

“No you shut up and fucking listen.” He growls. He still has your hands pinned to the floor. An almost animalistic look on his face.

“You are so infuriating, everything about you drives me fucking crazy. So pretty, so smart, so easy to rile up.” He purrs. Your body feels like it’s on fire. What the hell is he even talking about?

“I say things without thinking sometimes but you, you make it so hard. Always running your mouth.” You squirm under him, trying to get free.

Then. He moans. He fucking moans.

You stop moving and stare up at him in surprise. Then you feel something hard against your stomach. Oh. He’s hard.

“No fucking way.” You say with a smirk. He may be on top of you but right now it feels like you have all the power here.

“Don’t tell me you were an absolute dick because you liked me?” He doesn’t deny it. Instead pressing you harder into the mat.

“Shut up.”

“Couldn’t handle your feelings so you decided to tease me like a fucking schoolboy.” You laugh and try and move your arms but he doesn’t budge.

“You know what I think, I think you need to lose the attitude carrots, I think a nice good fuck would do you good.” You scoff at his words.

“And you think you’re the one to do that? You couldn’t make a girl cum if your life depended on it, Weasel.”

“Is that a challenge bunny? Come on, say it.” He’s hot and horny but he’s giving you a way out.

If you tell him to fuck off he’ll leave and you both can forget about it, but if you don’t. If you say you want this. Well he’ll finally shut you up like he’s been dreaming about. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. He’s breathing heavy like an animal and you’re studying his every move. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But you couldn’t deny that Logan was hot and right now all you wanted was to suck him off until he was milked dry. Shit.

“You can try, but I bet you won’t even last a minute.” He practically pounces on you. His face is buried in your neck as his hips grind against yours. You gasp as he bites your neck harshly. Eyes fluttering shut as he kisses it better.

“Dreamed of this, my bunny all wet and needy for me.” He nibbles up to your ears. Practically purring at how soft they feel.

“Not your bunny yet.” You bite back. He lets go of your wrists and sits up on his knees. He rips open your bra without the least bit of resistance. Mouth drooling as he stares at your tits.

“Fuck me.” He mutters as he harshly gropes your chest.

His thumb flicks over your nipple and you let out a squeak of pleasure. The last thing you wanted was for him to get an ego but fuck the way his hands feel on you is just so good. They’re rough and calloused and he is relentless in his movements. You almost whine when he stops playing with them, already missing his touch. He sheds his tank top, leaving him in all his muscled glory.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily as he takes his pants off too.

“You fucking wish.” You mutter unconvincingly. You take your nails and rake them down his chest making him moan.

“You like a little pain don’t you.” You tease, digging your nails into his skin harder.

“Maybe I do.” You yelp as he shreds your pants and underwear to shreds.

“Those were fucking expensive asshole-Fuck!” You gasp as he buries his face into your cunt. His hands locked on your thighs, moving isn’t an option as he practically inhales your cunt.

“Smells so sweet, can always smell you bunny but up close is just. So much better.” You feel yourself start to melt under his rough hold. He’s absolutely overwhelming.

“Maybe later I’ll finally get a taste but right now I think I need to put your mouth to better use.” He pulls you up onto your knees. Stroking his cock as he pushes you down. Shit he’s big but you don’t even react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Come on bunny, open up. Be a good girl for me.” Fuck him if he thinks he’s going to be in charge here. You smirk and take him as far down as you can.

“Fuck!” He hisses, not prepared for you to do that.

“Fuck slow down.” There's a hint of desperation in his voice and you feel a sense of pride. You pull back and spit on his cock. Using your hand you coat it, looking him right in the eyes as you roughly move your hand along his cock.

“I think you need a lesson too,” His eyes roll to the back of his head as you take as much of him as you can.

Choking as the tip hits the back of your throat. You are unrelenting, eating up every little desperate sound that’s coming from his lips. Not so tough now are you Logan you think as you feel him twitching in your mouth. He’s so damn close and its driving him wild. You feel a heavy hand bunch your ears and pull you off.

“As much as I want to come down your throat and watch you swallow it all…” He wipes some drool off your face as talks.

“I need to be inside that cunt.” Then he grabs your face and kisses you, actually kisses you. You’re startled at first but melt into it. His lips are rough and he smells so much like tobacco and whiskey but fuck its intoxicating. He’s big, rough, and so fucking hot.

“You’re soaking wet bunny.” He taunts as he cups your cunt with his hands.

“I bet you’re just aching to be filled. Don’t worry, I can help.” He manhandles you with his crazy strength till you're on your knees facing the mirrors.

“See, you’re just shaking with anticipation.” He grins wickedly as he cups your face and forces you to look into the mirror.

He’s not wrong. He’s big and you can feel his cock nudging its way into your cunt. You’re panting, hair a mess. His hand looks so good around your neck and he looks even more delicious. Your vision blurs as he slides himself inside of you. The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel nothing but Logan. Head up in the fucking clouds as he gives you a moment to relax, whispering sweet words to help ground you back to earth.

“Is your dick inside of me the only way to get you to be nice?” You ask breathlessly. Logan grunts, not happy that you’re still able to speak beyond moaning his name.

“I can be nice, I can be real nice.” He slides out of you at a slow, agonizing pace before thrusting harshly back in. You claw at the mat as he sets a brutal pace. In and out. Slow and hard. Pulling desperate sounds from the depths of your throat.

“Logan please!” You beg, you need him so bad. Need to feel him, need him to rearrange your fucking guts. “

So polite, now that’s more like it.” He leans in and kisses your neck roughly.

Claiming you as his own in his own animalistic way. He would tease you, continue to pull you apart on his cock for hours if he could. But the truth is he needed you. A deep carnal desire to render you completely fucked out. He leans back, pulling your back to his chest. He guides your hands to his arm.

“Hold on bunny.” Your nails sink deep into his skin, drawing blood as he sets a brutal pace.

Pounding into you so hard you see stars. Fucking hell super human strength and stamina really is a gift. He coos in your ear when he notices you starting to slump in his arms. Your legs burned, he was reducing you to a puddle of nothing.

“You okay pretty? Feel too good doesn’t it.” You nod, words not forming in your brain anymore.

All you feel is pure bliss and Logan feels a surge of pride in being the one to do this. You catch his gaze in the mirror. His eyes filled with pure, raw lust. His face was twisted in focus, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. His muscles were bulging with every move. You couldn’t stop yourself from look. Watching as he buried his cock into you.

“I know you’re close, it’s okay. I got you bunny.” One of his hands slips down between your legs. He draws tight, harsh circles on your clit making you cry. You’re squirming wildly, it feels too good. His fingers are too much but you don’t want him to stop.

“Shh, that’s it. Just relax.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you come hard.

Your legs can’t stop shaking. Logan tightens his grip on you, keeping you up right as he fucks into you hard. Chasing his own release, thrusting wildly and you fucking swear he whimpers as he stills his hips deep inside. Filling you up and then some. It’s a real shame when he pulls you, an empty feeling overtaking you. He loosens his grip and you almost face plant onto the mat.

“Logan..” You whine and he helps maneuver you to your back.

“Sorry carrots, didn’t mean to let you fall.”

“Don’t call me carrots.” You mumble, still completely exhausted.

“Okay, whatever you say, carrots.” You huff as Logan helps you stand up.

Your clothes are completely ruined but he somehow finds some extra sets of clothes in the closet. When did he even get up? Maybe you were still a little lost.

“Hey, you okay?” He cups your face gently. A slight look of worry in his face.

“Aw, you do care.” You tease. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of you.

“I always cared.”

“Had a real shit way of showing it.” You snort and he just smiles softly.

“Yeah. Guess I did.” To your embarrassment you still can’t exactly walk right. Luckily Logan is right by your side. You mentally prepare yourself to tell people you hurt your leg or something when they ask why you’re limping so bad.

“I still don’t know what I did to make you hate me.” You say quietly as you reach your dorm room. He sighs and gently plays with your ears. It tickles.

“I don’t hate you, I never did. I just. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can’t articulate just why he acted the way he did. He wants to, he really does but it just. Doesn’t come out. There's a long history of pain and loss and while you want to know why, an apology is certainly a start.

“Thank you,” He smiles softly, then realizes he’s probably overstayed his welcome. As if you two weren’t fucking in the training room less than 10 minutes ago.

“Do you want to stay?” He hesitates, unsure if this is truly what you want. If this line is ready to be crossed.

“You owe me for ruining my clothes. Just one nap.” He relents, it’s easy when you’re looking at him like that.

“Okay bunny. Just one nap.” He shuts the door behind him, crawling into bed with you.

He feels a rumble in his chest as he sinks into your bed. You’re soft and it feels like he’s meant to be here. You fall asleep quick, body aching and practically screaming for you to sleep. Logan stays awake for a while, just okay with being here. Just one nap he tells himself. 

He’s lying. It’s never going to be just one nap.

[wildwestdean]

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch. 

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-” 

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation. 

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you. 

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together. 

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients. 

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back. 

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t. 

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying. 

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension. 

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-” 

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands? 

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body? 

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you. 

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around. 

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself. 

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode. 

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!” 

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room. 

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?” 

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind. 

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare. 

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you. 

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on. 

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.” 

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat. 

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now. 

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling. 

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily. 

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time. 

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?” 

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be. 

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”  

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him. 

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!” 

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation. 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return. 

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean. 

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again. 

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face. 

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.” 

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room. 

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes. 

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression. 

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you. 

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug. 

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!” 

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.” 

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.” 

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.” 

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish. 

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen. 

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?” 

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!” 

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!” 

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.” 

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!” 

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen. 

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table. 

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.” 

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort. 

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze. 

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head. 

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite. 

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food. 

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere. 

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin. 

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?” 

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?” 

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t. 

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly. 

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier. 

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.” 

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving. 

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle. 

“You alright?” you asked tentatively. 

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one. 

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.” 

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better. 

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation. 

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.” 

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word. 

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table. 

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration. 

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.” 

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return. 

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.” 

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation. 

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.” 

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk. 

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously. 

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.” 

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you. 

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively. 

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.” 

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.” 

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically. 

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.” 

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.” 

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.” 

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.” 

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off. 

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.” 

“Promise?” you asked meekly. 

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further. 

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears. 

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly. 

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on. 

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously. 

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question. 

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this. 

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter. 

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you. 

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake. 

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day. 

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there. 

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam. 

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything. 

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore. 

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out. 

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either. 

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs. 

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat. 

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.” 

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion. 

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?” 

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?” 

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave. 

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you. 

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards. 

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?” 

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.” 

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.” 

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words. 

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward. 

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response. 

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.” 

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.” 

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name. 

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.” 

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you? 

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.” 

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps. 

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker. 

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.  

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently. 

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly. 

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated. 

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.” 

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation. 

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?” 

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her. 

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation. 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly. 

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?” 

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around. 

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!” 

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room. 

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief. 

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar. 

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying. 

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-” 

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room. 

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by. 

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car. 

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him. 

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door. 

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time. 

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward. 

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly. 

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.” 

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.” 

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you. 

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.  

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet. 

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work. 

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.” 

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him. 

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-” 

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more. 

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.” 

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat. 

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.” 

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked. 

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly. 

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?” 

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.” 

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?” 

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.” 

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess. 

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?” 

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?” 

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.  

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down. 

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him. 

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.  

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?” 

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more. 

“You said-” 

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.” 

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin. 

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low. 

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks. 

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips. 

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.” 

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

[it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined]

As it's also totally valid if you do happen to prefer contact lenses though, you don't have to actually buy those via your optician either - once you have your prescription and have trialled a lens brand you know works for you, there are plenty of much cheaper generics out there that you can brand match online (I use Everclears via VisionDirect in the UK) and then double checked they were safe with my optician next time I had an appt.

can we talk about how literally 64% of people wear glasses, and yet we NEVER see them in movies/tv unless it's on some nerdy or uncool character? why do we adhere to such a weird beauty standard that subconsciously makes us feel bad for,, not being able to see???

[pedgito]

𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Logan Howlett x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | with no threshold for pain, logan finds that losing control with you is easier, triggering a thirst that is insatiable.

author's note | um.......yeah idk. i have no excuse and while i still write predominately for pedge boys i had to. i couldn't help it. am i sorry? no. is this insane? a little. special thanks to @ovaryacted, @pr0ximamidnight & @wannab-urs for being the best and reading this over

content warning | 18+ smut, written with x-men (2000)!logan in mind, mutant!reader, established relationship, hand kink (and sensitivity), pain kink, blood kink, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), exchange of bodily fluids (yes its bl*od), mentions of exhibitionism, also kinda body worship, this turned out way kinkier than it was supposed to be

word count —2.2k

Logan was never soft, but he’s learned to smooth out his sharp edges for you.

And while he was never shy, he wasn’t always open about his claws slipping out near climax when things got a little too out of control or his mind would slip, bordering into that animalistic ferocity he sometimes drifted into when he was more desperate.

Just a touch, a lick, a press of his skin against yours and he’d haul you onto whatever surface was close by and rail you into a near amnesic state of consciousness. It made you feel like you were floating, allowing his superhuman strength to lift you up and off to bed, spending most of those nights in his room rather than your own.

You weren’t a thing, it had never been established. But, Logan has grown comfortable, familiar, and he was appreciative of it, even if he didn’t show it. It came with the kisses when you slipped into his room after heavy training evenings or a night where he just needed some entertainment, something to keep him occupied. 

He liked your company even if it was never spoken aloud. 

The signs came when you would scoot away on the couch to give him space when you both would drift into meaningless conversation that would in turn mold into you, in his lap after a soft tug and a complacent smirk on his face.

You’ve grown fond of him, his wittiness and unrestrained personality that was often subdued under a dark, brooding facade, his body too—strong, chiseled arms and a well-defined chest. He was big, everywhere. All-consuming and just bordering on the edge of too much. But, it was his hands that really pulled you in.

Thumbs pressing beyond swollen lips as you run the surface of your tongue against his skin, an aid to muffle the whimpers that slip beyond your lips when you’re trying to be quiet—when Logan needs you quiet, teetering on a dangerous line of exhibitionism if you keep it up.

Or the length of his hands squeezing against your hips, pulling you back to meet his thighs as his cock spears you open, his palm often finding on your lower back as he presses you further into the mattress, ass angled up as best you could manage when he was rutting himself into you like he was in heat—gruff, wet pants of a gradually building high against your skin that drove you wild. 

His claws have slipped out a few times—your headboard remained the proof as he’d rid himself of his own long ago, deep but thick holes in the wood that you’re almost positive continued into the drywall. He’s ruined a pillow or two, but there was a surge of excitement that came along with it. 

The sound of them as they slip beyond his skin, not even the slightest grimace on his face as it happens, ultimately taken by his pleasure in overdrive, the action always registers half a second too late.

 Thankfully, you’ve come to sense it well.

You always know just where to touch—what drives him wild and extracts the feral nature in him and what softens his steely regard. Touches along his jaw pull him in, lips pressing against the spot on you mirroring your fingers on him. 

Sometimes it’s nails digging into his indestructible skin, irritated and swollen marks that would fade as quickly as they appeared, no use in drawing blood as it never spilled.

But, the soft and intriguing sounds that slip as you run your fingers along his forearm are something you take note of over time—occasionally just a tickle that he shrugs away with a soft chuckle, slipping his hand between your bodies to play with your clit, leaving him just out of reach as he circles that sensitive bundle of nerves, urging your eyes to stay on him, with him.

He’s always good at talking you through, gentle words of encouragement married with tight, guttural groans as his cock sinks into you, a hand at your thigh to keep you spread open, his gaze always wandering down to marvel at the sight of you and him and you take him so well—he’s told you a million times over by now.

Occasionally his hands will make a slow crawl to your shoulders or your neck, curling around the muscle and cradling you, like an anchor for himself. Your own fingers spread over his grip, right along the ridge of his knuckles. 

At first he tensed, his hands slipping away in a hurry to grip another part of your body, lower, deeper—disconnecting helped and even if he had learned to control the urge to a degree, there was always a chance.

Logan wasn’t oblivious to your own regenerative healing—not entirely indestructible, although the lack of pain receptors made you a viable asset for a plethora of things but being on the other end of a spar with him was still nothing to take lightly, a man of challenge himself, you weren’t leaving that fight without a couple knicks and cuts even though as soon as they appeared, they were then non-existent.

Physically, you were a challenge, nothing for people to underestimate. The perfect torture device, the ideal punching bag. You've learned to subdue the emotion and the mental toll it took, but with Logan, there was an openness to be vulnerable, knowing that you needed the pain just as much as it often displeased you.

Where Logan fears worry and shame, you find the care and curiosity in soothing the spots where his claws tear through, a gentle squeeze of your fingers in the spaces between his knuckles, a kiss to each one and down his wrist, a show of affection while your eyes never leave his own.

Sometimes you did it absently, on the couch while you both drifted to sleep after a long day or during a movie that you’ve thrown on to distract Logan from his own mind—some days he just needed you around in whatever form you had to offer.

There wasn’t a single part of him you didn’t admire and one night, like tonight, things reach culmination and Logan slips.

—

His mouth waters at the sight of you on your back, pussy on full display and your thighs spread wide under his grip as his cock sinks deep and pulls out, right to the tip before he’s drilling himself back inside of you, fingers twisting into the sheets so hard they often rip, eyes drifting close as your head keens back in overwhelming pleasure.

“Bub, eyes on me,” Logan coaxes, his fingers curling around the top of your thighs as they squeeze, keeping you apart and open, pliant under his touch, “keep ‘em on me.”

He hips still, waiting, watching—you peek your eyes open with a shy smile that is met with a smirk, his eyes brimming with warmth, nodding as you listen.

 “Right there, that’s good.”

You roll your eyes fondly, a flutter of your lashes as he pushes inside of you unexpectedly, a sharp and wild snap of his hips that pulls a surprised gasp from your chest, squeezing instinctively around him in response—again and again as your thighs press further and further in until he’s nearly at your chest, his knuckles grazing the underside of your breasts and you beg, tongue wetting your bottom lip as you speak.

“Don’t—please don’t hold back,” you plead—to some degree, he always did, shared mutant powers aside there was always a deep need in Logan’s psyche to protect and inadvertently to shield, “all of it—want all of you.”

As to seal the words with truth, your fingers slide over his hands gripped tightly at your thighs, keeping them still as your feet curl around the back of his thighs and pull him in. Deeper, tighter. Logan chuckles at the motion, almost taunting. There was a sensitivity to the spot where his claws pushed through, a warning of what was to come and like all the other softer, more receptive parts of him, the touch surges a sense of hot, angry need through his entire body.

Easy, his eyes read.

“I like it,” you admit with a gentle swirl of your hips to bring him back, followed by the slow angle and snap in response, “—lose control a little, Logan. Let it out.”

“That part of me—“ Logan begs, but there’s a quiet noise of disapproval from you, your eyes softer as you admire him.

“Is part of you,” you remind him, “and I—“ like an absolute menace, he penetrates hard, rubbing the sensitive swell of muscle inside of you that makes you dizzy, “fuck—I don’t need you to hide yourself.”

Logan goes quiet, contemplating but observant as his hands squeeze against the sound of surprise you make as he grazes your g-spot, a fist pressing against his groin that flattens out into your palm, feeling the flex of his muscles as he works himself inside of you.

“I wanna feel it, I need it to hurt,” You beg, his brows drawing in—pensive for a half-second before you can see the flip of a switch in his head, “you can lose control with me, Logan.”

He practically vibrates as the growl emits from his chest, watching his hands squeeze impossibly tighter before his claws are our, unsheathed before you and you can’t help but smile, a millimeter from splicing through skin that could never keep the memory of it and you run your finger along the base, the slight flicker of discomfort in his face that fades as you began to move against him again.

There was something about pain, that stinging feeling of a wound as the adamantium sliced through you, along the swell of your ribs and breasts, a trickle of blood falling from the cut before it disappeared—and instinctively, Logan’s hand settle away as he leans in and swipes the blood away with his tongue, eyes locked on your own and you quiver, mouth opening in a silent gasp.

He moans at the taste, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the action and to make matters worse, he speaks, blood on his tongue and teeth, “M’pretty sure she tastes even sweeter.”

His eyes flick toward your cunt, a whimper in protest at the loss of his cock as he slips out of you and sinks to his stomach in one fluid motion, his slick covered cock ruining your sheets as he drives his tongue inside of you, nose pressed against your clit as he satisfies the loss of him with more, claws dragging dangerously close to your hips, the tips of his claws pressing into the skin.

His tongue drags up to you clit, lapping up the mix of sweet slick and his own, your hands pressing over top of his to force the sharp edge deeper, slicing through your skin until you feel yourself on the verge of passing out, a small pool of blood gathering at your pelvis.

Your own fingers drag through the thick crimson, spreading it over his waiting mouth as he grins, a perfect picture of greed and pleasure as he dives back into your cunt, a hurried and overwhelming pace against your clit driving you over the edge within seconds, your orgasm crashing toward you far faster than you’re expecting as you cry out, hips lifting from the bed but not without a fight, Logan’s grip pressing you down into mattress to clean you up.

All of you.

He rises with a grin, brutish but charming as he kisses you, tasting yourself on him as your own blood smears your lips, giggling softly into his mouth.

“Inside,” Logan already knows, fist curling around his cock as he slips back inside of you, “—oh fuck, Lo—“

“Greedy girl,” He admonishes amorously and returns his hurried pace, claws sinking into your pillows and mattress, a sorry that would come later for the action but you needed him now, “gonna let me fill you full, huh?”

You nod jerkily, forehead pressed tight against his own as he huffs into your open mouth, a mingling of sacred noises between each other as his hips falter, a broken gasp falling from his lips as he snaps his hips once before he’s buried to the hilt, coming deep inside you cunt.

His claws retract synonymous with his climax as he settles against his now bare fists before he’s falling onto his back with a huff, looking like a fucked-out mess with his hair even more askew than it always it, blood drying at the corner of his mouth as you roll onto your stomach and grab for his hand, pressing a kiss to each knuckle with a soft smile, figuring you must be quiet the sight yourself.

“You have to stop worrying, Logan,” you remind him gently, dropping his hand to move closer, his arm extending and pressing against your back as you curl into him, your fingers tracing along his jaw as you speak to him, “that you’re going to scare me away.”

“You still have time to run,” He jokes lightly, but there’s a tinge of sadness to his tone and you shake your head with a quickly developing smirk.

“Only if you’re chasing after me,” You challenge, leaning forward to nip at his jaw, surprised when he returns the action as he buries his pith against your throat, rolling you onto your back with a laugh that bursts from your chest.

“That can be arranged, bub,” He promises, nosing himself into the sensitive spot behind your ear, “I’d sniff you out in seconds, anyways.”

-

divider creds: @saradika-graphics

[shanieveh]

jealousy, jealousy . . .

- everyone can see his rageful eyes as he looks at the both you, except for you (genshin men)

Murder. Execution. Homocide. These were the words echoing in NEUVILLETTE's mind as he looked at the two of you.

How can you sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?

The chief justice can't do jokes, unlike him. He can't smile and jest so easily, unlike him, and that's what infuriates him. But little did he know, that precious smile of yours can only be made because the topic of conversation was him.

The God of Geo gave prosperity and stability to the land of Liyue and that is about to crumble if ZHONGLI looked at the both of you dancing for even one morea second.

A childhood bestfriend, huh?

Then why was he so eager to grab your waist?! That was his to grab! Didn't you say you were his and that we was yours? Enough. That guy won't mind a bit of indestructible power of earth and contracts? He... was about to face the wrath of the rock.

At this rate, WRIOTHESLEY would have a brand new prisoner. Every single one of his friends is forcing him to keep his fists in his pockets and so far it has not been working.

Don't give my spouse some puny ass flowers, you punk!

His mind was going into the direction of violence, chanting the ancient languages of tevyat to send this guy into Celestia. But as you saw him and smiled happily and gave him a flying kiss... why was he mad again?

LYNEY was not the jealous type, he thinks so. So when he say you with him out of all people, it popped off twelve bloodvessels. You shouldn't be near him, that was your ex! He was taller, much more muscular..

He can't be insecure, he was Lyney after all!

He was deeply insecure, more than everything. No more glints of rage and sadness, but rather, a sad cat in need of cuddling and as you see this poor sight you immediately dismissed your ex. He was your home after all, the love of your life.

So it wasn't normal to destroy several properties after learning your significant other kissed someone in the cheek? ALHAITHAM knew it was a 5 year old but it didn't make a big of a difference. That for me him was betrayal.

Oh so you want cuddles now? After everything you did?

It took you 71 hours and 56 minutes of constant cooing and cuddling and reassurance for the big baby to forgive you for kissing an actual baby. In the end he hugged your chest in front of that 5 year old and smirked for him to know his place.

KAEYA was a natural flirt who gives flattery to everyone who surrounds him, so when another guy gives you that type of flattery then he wishes to relish the depths of hell.

What do you mean they look like most echanting rose?! Don't compare them to a mere flower!!

And the list of argument comes on as he mades on his way to you both with a sparkle in his eyes. A mission. To wipe that guy's stupid smirk off his face. Forever.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 23

Ryomen Sukuna + Power Bottom

True form Sukuna my beloved. I want him so bad. Had a lot of fun writing this, I miss Sukuna so much. Gojo clan reader, cuz hehe. Uh, mentions of cannibalism in this, cuz its Sukuna. Takes place during the Heian era.

2024 kinktober masterlist

It was difficult to breathe, feeling the sheer weight that was Sukuna pressing down on you. Or maybe it was the fact that one of his four hands was wrapped around your neck, his hand so big he couldn’t even fit the entire thing around your fragile neck.

Your arms were pinned above your head, pulled taught just enough to ache but not break, another of his hands easily holding your wrists with just his thumb and pointer finger. Your chest shuddered as Sukuna ground his hips down on you again, pulling a whimper of overstimulation out of you around the fingers he had inside your mouth.

It was hard to keep track of where his four hands went at all times. You knew one was choking you, one was trying to bruise the back of your throat, and a third was holding your arms. But, where was the last one?

A muffled yowl forced its way out your chest as you felt a sudden pinch of pain in your ballsack, tear filled eyes shooting open to look up at Sukuna as if begging him for an explanation. His grin was feral, like it always was when he wanted to “use his favourite toy”. It brought him some kind of thrill to have someone from the Gojo clan under his bulk, bending but not breaking under his strength, and wrung dry until you couldn’t feel your legs.

“What? My ass not good enough for you? why are you thinking about something else Brat” he snarled, the one arm you hadn’t kept track of moving behind him, followed by a cruel squeeze of your sensitive sack. You couldn’t apologize or explain yourself, nor did you want too, since you knew Sukuna loved to see you cry. His face might be stuck in a sneer, but the mouth on his stomach was smirking and licking at your abdomen, showing his true emotions.

You wanted to shake your head, you were here, you just couldn’t help but float off somewhere else after Sukuna had been riding you all night. He always got extra excited after slaughtering sorcerers, you had an inkling he must have killed some of your former clan members with how hard hed ridden you.

For the most part you didn’t even understand why he liked you enough to keep you alive. You were nothing like your clan. You didn’t inherit any of the clans known abilities, and you were even the result of one of the higher ranked women spreading her legs for a no name sorcerer with no clan, leaving you with a bloodline that left you near indestructible.

Maybe it was the fact that you had successfully killed one of your younger cousins, one who had been born with the six eyes, out of nothing but hate for your clan and jealousy. Maybe it was the fact that you had fled to his territory, carrying that younger cousin’s corpse like some sick trophy. Or maybe, it was because you had offered him the corpse, knowing it would anger your clan more than anything else you could have done.

It wouldn’t have been strange for him to have killed you right then and there. But instead, Sukuna had grinned big and feral, with the same glint in his eyes he got when he was about to wipe out a village of innocent non-sorcerers. The mouth on his stomach had licked its lips, and at the time you had imagined it was because of the priced corpse you had given him. When in reality, it was the sight of you, with that dark look in your eyes, covered from head to toe in the blood of your so-called family.

There hadn’t been much to live for, there never was, so swearing your loyalty to Sukuna didn’t mean much to you. Uraume had been quite suspicious of you for a while, until you had proven yourself enough for him. Sukuna had simply been entertained, sending you on trips to kill more of your clansmen or allies of your clan, just to see how far you would go.

The first time he decided that you would be more than just a simple tool had been out of your understanding. You were a sorcerer, but you had never been trained to the same level as those around you, which meant you didn’t notice the flicker of cursed energy unfurling inside you.

It was familiar to Sukuna, and enough to make him salivate. He had been human once, and he knew what to look for when it came to someone turning into a curse. The hate you had festered for your clan and all the abuse they put you through had put you on the right path, and you starting to eat human flesh to please him only watered the seed you had always carried.

You had been stunned at the time as Sukuna invited you to join him in his personal bath, but who were you to turn your lord down. You had seen Sukuna naked multiple times before, having seen him strip down from his hunts and killings, you had even helped Uraume in scrubbing him down, but this was different.

It was even more shocking for you when he shortly told you to wash him, the curse sitting back with his thighs splayed apart and his arms resting behind him outside of the pool of water. You couldn’t truly say no, and you really didn’t want too either, so the choice was easy. You ended up dropping the sponge though, when Sukuna rose out of the water, just to bend over the edge of the natural spring, as he told you to use your mouth to clean him with one of his hands pulling himself open.

From then it was like a fountain had opened. Sukuna had many men and women passing through his chambers, most sacrifices or those that thought they could curry favour with the king of curses, but none of them ever left alive, instead ending up as meat stuck between his teeth.

But you, you survived, even if you felt like he had drained the very life out of your cock with his hungry mouths and ass. If you thought the mouth on his face was lethal, then you hadn’t expected just how skilled the mouth on his stomach was.

Sukuna regularly enjoyed just pressed down on top of you, the mouth on his stomach licking and sucking until you were sobbing from overstimulation. That was never the end of it, of course. He wouldn’t be the king of curses if it was. Instead, Sukuna used cursed energy to get you hard again, just so he could ride you.

A sharp pain in your taint forced you back to the present again, a warbled keen passing your lips as tears ran down your face, what had to be your tenth orgasm of the night rolling through you. your toes curled against the floor, kicking uselessly under Sukunas muscular body.

You heard him tsk above you, his rocking hips coming to a stop on top of your own, his plush muscular ass pressing against your bruised hips and thighs. “Hey, Brat” he grunted, pulling his fingers from your mouth to pat at your tear-stained cheek, strings of spit still hanging from his fingers to your tongue.

Even without his clawed fingers inside his mouth, it still wants impossible to speak. Your tongue felt too thick and heavy, useless and limp and impossible to curl into letters to form words. It was hard to even see his face from how blurry your vision was, a pleasant ache running through your body. You may be half Gojo and near indestructible, but you truly were nothing against someone as powerful as Sukuna.

He gave a huff above you as you turn your head, nuzzling against his palm like an affectionate puppy, which was as close as you could get to express your feelings right now. Sukuna sighed out a longer breath, his hands releasing you, allowing you to take a deep shuddering breath, your arms staying above your head as you felt too weak to move them.

“Guess I can’t expect more out of you” he grumbled, sounding almost annoyed but there was an undercurrent of something softer and warmer. The ache of overstimulation shot through you body as Sukuna rose off you, your poor abused cock falling limp against your stomach. “Oh, shut up, it’s not so bad” the curse rumbled, sounding closer to a purr than his usual growl.

The mouth on his stomach licked its lips hungrily at the sight of your dick, clearly wanting to lick up all the fluids still covering it, or the many streaks of cum, blood, tears and what other bodily fluids covering your body. The thought of that large tongue running over you made you shudder again, part of you yearning, another part wanting to shy away.

“Come here” the curse huffed, picking you up with ease, your body limp in his hold as his two bottom arms held you against his torso. The world felt like it was running together around you, your legs still felt limp and useless, continuous shudders running through your body as you melted against him.

It sounded like Sukuna had called for Uraume, but you couldn’t be sure, as even your hearing felt muffled. Maybe you really had cum more than ten times, you normally didn’t float this far away with just that.

One of Sukunas free hands ran through your sweaty hair, letting you arch into it as he carried you towards his personal bath. You were the only toy who entertained him and that he couldn’t break, so he had to take care of you. that was it, no other reason. The king of curses couldn’t care about anybody, but Sukuna did hate you less than everyone else.

[xinrouska]

Duo Na // The Forge Spends his time in his mountain of a workshop, not one to interact with mortals as much as his brothers. Works made by his hand are highly sought after, and they’re only bestowed upon his friends and most deserving of disciples. These artifacts hold great power and are near indestructible. After the arm incident, he makes a point to visit his family and friends more often. His choice of weapon is his bo staff, however he can manipulate metal like water, morphing it into whatever he needs at that moment. When not in use, he keeps the metal as a liquid in his side pouch.

Domain: The Ambitious, Innovators, Craftsmen Affinity: Metal, Fire Mortal Death: [Redacted]

// Also i know many ppl are interested in the arm incident but i wanna draw more fun cute things before that. Meanwhile have a wip for that!!!