#so much more i wanted to draw but i only have so many hands and eyes and time *crying* ...will be thinking about it...

[zorilleerrant]

So the differences between these two cover a lot. They are both con men. They are both autistically obsessed with their special coats. They do pay careful attention to fashion trends and tailor their appearances to the space they're trying to infiltrate, something that seemed fun and easy to them to begin with. (Altho I do get the impression Captain Jack signed up initially out of some sense of duty or protecting his fellow sapients.) They're both family men who are terrified of endangering their families. The type of guy is likely to draw the same crowd in a lot of cases. The details vary a lot.

First, erotic relationships - while Constantine sleeps around whenever he's single (or, rather, used to when he was younger), he's a serial monogamist at heart. He falls fast and deep for whoever's caught his eye this minute, even when he's trying to keep it casual. He always expects it to be long term, and his overly intense expectations inevitably cause him to fuck something up. While he's open to sexual experimentation with his current partner (orgies, etc.), he can't really handle polyamory. Captain Jack, on the other hand, is capable of understanding monogamous relationships (it probably exists as a queer identity where he's from), but he struggles to engage in one. He meets people where they are, though, and so sometimes engages in relationships that are dispreferential to him, figuring he can fill that in elsewhere.

Second, killing - Captain Jack considers himself a soldier, even when he's doing civilian things, even when he's on the run, even when he's working for a very different cause than a war. War shaped him, and war stole away his limits. He has no hesitation about killing people if it's necessary. Even when he knows them, loves them, doesn't want to hurt them: when he knows it's necessary, he simply acts. He doesn't enjoy hurting or killing people, but he does consider it a tool always available to him. Constantine is capable of killing people, but just barely. Even when he knows it's absolutely necessary, he will hunt for every other possible option, often until the time is up. He's incapable of killing a child even when he knows that child will grow up to destroy the universe. Until his life or the life of a loved one is directly threatened, he has trouble acting. Counterintuitively, this means that Captain Jack feels directly responsible for any death that he orders or obliquely causes, while Constantine in much more picky about what blood he carries on his hands.

Third, trauma - Captain Jack exists to embody heavily dramatized impossible traumas that, while they have analogy to real people's problems, exaggerate and contort them until they're safe to deal with in a fantasy context. Constantine does the opposite. Constantine's traumas are almost exclusively meant to be very real, very concrete things that happen directly to real people, and where his reactions to them are realistic, even when they involve magic (in either causing or healing the trauma). Captain Jack's bad memories are symbolic, metaphorical, allegorical. Constantine's bad memories are relatable and believable. (Both of them are direct explorations of common queer experiences, though.)

Fourth, powers - Constantine is almost entirely self-taught. While he did obtain mentors and friends to help him expand his repertoire later in his career, this was after he learned everything that was dangerous with no guidance, oversight, or support. He's often said to be a relatively weak magic user, and most of his impressive skill comes from the fact that he had to learn loopholes and exploits to do everything he ever did, from the ground up, instead of following any established pattern of magic users. That and making terrible bargains with all manner of more powerful creatures, most of whom only ever had his worst interests at heart. Captain Jack, on the other hand, was taught rigorously by many different organizations. He was considered exceptionally skilled, a prodigy even, and always enjoyed easy support from his colleagues. Everything else is from one specific accident born from love.

Fifth, self-image - Captain Jack has lots of regrets and lots of wishes, but in general, he thinks of himself as someone who's trying to do good things. He doesn't think he's the worst person just because he's not the best person, and he always strives to improve, because he believes in himself. He's suicidal mostly because he thinks it's unnatural the way he exists, and because of grief. Constantine hates everything about himself at all times. He's trying, he's desperately trying, but he doesn't think he's capable of turning himself into someone who deserves to be alive. He has all kinds of internalized bigotry that he'd be horrified if anyone else said, but believes is true about himself. He firmly believes he is the worst person who ever existed and yet he's afraid to die.

Themes Constantine focuses on that Captain Jack doesn't:

addiction

religion

sexual abuse and recovery

poverty/systemic classism

solidarity and mutual aid

footie

Themes Captain Jack focuses on that Constantine doesn't:

exile/cultural history erasure

chosen family

the ethics of coverups

the universalism of violence/the universalism of kindness

ties through time and place

workplace sex

Themes that both focus on:

grief and loss

alienation from wider culture

power and responsibility

star-crossed love

how good and evil on a grand scale interacts with the personal

monsterfucking

You seem like you would know the answer to this question, are Jack Harkness and John Constantine the Same Guy? I know they're from different things and only have the vaguest dashboard osmosis idea about either of them but the instinct is so strong. What is causing this? Help

you've osmosed them into a single slutty bisexual disaster man that doesn't mind his own business and refuses to die

[kaybug88]

ʚ♡ɞ・"WHAT'S UP DANGER?" 0.1・ʚ♡ɞ

Something to address before you read!

(ʚ♡ɞ) means a time skip

Bold, Italicized  and in "Quotation marks" are thoughts

                                                            -

Dreams like these are always the hardest. You can't tell if the image playing in front of you is going to be delightful, something like a summer's warm day out on the beach, an umbrella overhead to block the imaginary heat of the sun. Nor can you tell if it's going to shift into something scary, scary as in a terrifying monster with razor sharp teeth that're serrated like steak knives and claws that gouge out eyes, or the monsters that walk past you at the mall, eyes trained on your body in ways people would say was your fault and that you were asking for it.

Today's dream though, is neither, you're met with a hazy black fog that shifts into the daycare room you haven't seen in only-God-knows how many years. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the wooden shelves that held all your things, such as lunch boxes and then to the colorfully decorated walls, covered from top to bottom in decor or drawings you remember doing as a young kid, even spotting a poor attempt at the pro-hero Mirko. You smile to yourself with a small chuckle, it's funny in a way, your favorite pro hasn't changed over the years, always has been the rabbit pro who always lives life to the fullest, and nor will it change. She's inspired you to be a pro, you want to live life like she does, fearless and knowing every day could be the last.

You remember a special interview you've held close to your heart, the one that inspired you to become a hero. "Pfft, I have to live life to the fullest knowing that any day could be my last! Especially now as a newer pro, I've got to fight my way to the top, and smashing through burning buildings and destroying villains is the way to do it. Plus, it keeps me entertained." She had explained to the interviewer, your mom had to turn it off when she began to get a bit extreme.

Before you can think further about the memory, faces you remember from that daycare class began to appear, most faces blurry but a few rather recognizable faces stayed perfect; a blonde boy with ruby red eyes and a timid looking boy next to the spiky blonde with unruly green hair and beautiful eyes that resembled emeralds. For a moment, everything was still, like holding a breath. Suddenly, more blurry faces appear from behind the recognizable faces. You smile at the little blue shirts with yellow stars in the left corner and white collars peeking out. You notice your own face on the other side of the smirking red eyed boy with your (e/c) eyes sparkling with excitement.

Suddenly, all at once, the memory resumes. The little kids clearly don't see you as the blonde's hands begin to spark and ignite with small pops. His mouth is stretched into a cocky smirk while students all around are oohing and ahhing at the quirk manifestation.

"Awesome!" You see your younger self say with clear excitement, you don't remember much from this memory, but you do recall your quirk hadn't manifested yet.

"You're so lucky!" The green haired boy said, his big round eyes trained on the mini orange explosions buzzing around in the blonde's hands. You see a kid with a blurry voice and a distant voice agree with the faint outline of black hair.

"Impressive! I betcha that's going to grow into an amazing quirk!" The male teacher said with an impressed smile, then it was the female teacher's turn to talk. "A flashy quirk for a future hero! It's perfect!" She said clearly happy for the boy you still can't remember the name of.

Then all at once, the people in the room shift, some disappearing. Students are now surrounding the green haired boy, students are mumbling and whispering, and you can't quite put your finger on most of the words. You see your little self with sad eyes squatting by the upset boy. You can see your mouth moving, but can't hear a single word, instead, you hear a select few comments.

"Hey, did you hear? Deku doesn't have a quirk. None!" One kid says before another replies in confusion. "Yeah, it's called being quirkless." Another snicker can be heard before more join in until it erupts into most of the students laughing. You rub your temples in frustration and confusion. Deku... Deku... Deku! His name was Izuku, but one day, people had started calling him Deku; and for the life of you, you couldn't remember why.

You take one good look at the face of the blonde and remember a small, but special memory you hadn't thought of in years until now. You close your eyes tight and remember being out on the playground, you were swinging higher than any other kid, and to four-year-old boys and girls, that's quite the accomplishment. When you had to go inside, that same boy had stopped you.

"You! (h/c) girl over there!" He had called out to you while pointing. Behind him were three blurry faces and Izuku. You remember turning to face him with a confused look while pointing to yourself. The realization dawns on you that his name is Katsuki Bakugo, or Kacchan as some called him.

"Me?" You asked while walking over to the little squad. "Yeah, you! Y'know, you're pretty cool for a girl, I guess. Join my Agency!" He had said to you with a proud look while pointing his little thumb into his chest, smile beaming. "Why would I do that?" You had questioned while putting your sassy little hands on your hips before he replied. "Because I'm going to be the number one hero one day!"

You smile at the memory before the world shifts around you once more, the same hazy black fog swirls around you before putting you to watch Katsuki's little friend group walking down a log. Your little self is walking behind Izuku, and you notice the same three blurry faces from before standing in a line from Katsuki to Izuku.

"Forward marching, here we go! Members of the Agency Bakugo, sou- ah!" You watched as Katsuki fell from the mossy log into the small creek below, the three blurry faces began to talk in a distorted voice, not being able to understand anything they said. You noticed your little face watching in horror while calling to Deku as he ran down the hill to ensure the fallen boy was okay. You watched Izuku's hand reach out to Katsuki before you woke up.

Sweat is beading on your forehead while your hands run over your face, lips letting out a small groan. The alarm on your phone blares at you, yelling to get up. You annoyedly take a look at the time on your alarm before glancing down to the name. "Get up hoe! Entrance Exams are TODAY!" You're about to think about saying fuck it and going back to bed, but remembering how long it takes you to get ready, you decide against it.

Basically rolling out of bed, you walk into your bathroom, phone in hand as you unlock the screen and scroll through your apps until you see your definitely most used app, Spotify. You decide on your morning playlist and play it at full blast remembering that your mom isn't home, knowing she's at the hospital for her job as a nurse.

Getting ready was enjoyable to say the least. You managed to drink a surprising amount of water, versus your usual Monster energy drink, and in complete honesty, it felt nice to enjoy some ice-cold water. You were able to sing in the mirror while blow drying your hair and even had enough time to make breakfast, which isn't something you have time to do often. By the time it was time to leave, you were satisfied with how your morning had gone. You were so, so, tempted to use your webs to swing across the city rather than take the bus, but you were within walking distance of the stop, and recalling your mom's scolding to not overuse your quirk before the exams even took place was convincing enough, plus, walking meant more time for music, who wouldn't want that?

ʚ♡ɞ

"What the hell?" You groan to yourself after seeing the massively tall concrete wall buildings. You shake out your arms a little, flex your wrists and stretch your legs dressed in black leggings. You're wearing something basic, really, simple black leggings, an old pair of red Jordans that are creased beyond repair, a black t-shirt, and a jacket with the zipper undone. You glance around at your competitors and can't help but silently judge some of them. You hear some people talking some small smack about someone and turn around to say something. You open your mouth to speak, but abruptly stop upon seeing messy green hair, you know you've seen it somewhere. It looked eerily similar to the kid in your dream. There's no way the quirkless green haired boy you knew growing up was here, right?

You turn your attention to the loud voice calling above you. "Alright let's start! Get moving! There are no countdowns in real battles. Run, run, run, listeners!" The announcer says, making you realize you really need to get a move on. You run before locking your sight onto the corner of a building and... fwip! You shoot a web to the corner of a building, flinging yourself forwards and a nice length ahead of people before landing on the concrete ground, immediately breaking out into a run upon feeling the floor. Dashing around a corner you notice a two-pointer bot. It's big, but not too big for you to take down without breaking a sweat. Its robotic voice says something as its beady little red camera locks onto your form.

"Alright, just one little bot, this can't be too hard, right?" You think to yourself before shooting a web strand at the bot's shoulder, flinging yourself up and onto the metal. You mess up your landing a bit but manage to hold on as you carefully shoot another web to tie around the bot's neck. You let out a heavy breath as you pull as hard as you can, and before you know it, wires bust and burn from your efforts. You hastily launch yourself off before the two-pointer falls to the ground with a big 'ol thud.

"Two points off the bat isn't bad, keep this pace up and I'll pass with flying colors." You say cockily to yourself before continuing your journey, launching yourself further around the city, and soon enough, you find more, and more bots, taking them all out with ease. However, by your fifteenth bot, you notice you're slowing down and have been for a bit now. "Shiiiiittt!" You drag out in a bit of a yell as the scorpion-like tail of a two-pointer bot nearly scratches your side. You hadn't been paying attention when the tail swung at you but ended up being able to swing a safe distance away.

"C'mon, (Y/N), no slowing down." You scold yourself before taking this bot down as well. By now, finding bots is a whole challenge on its own. You see countless bodies of mangled and destroyed bots and a few people here and there, but no robots you can take down. It isn't until you're struggling to swing around with weak webs you see the biggest bot of the entire day, it's fucking massive. The zero point bot, just your fucking luck.

People are in a whole panic, running away as fast as possible, some even crying. You begin to swing away but can't help taking notice of a few people hiding inside a building that's sure to get crushed. You look from the bot to the people hiding, there's only a few of them, and you know you're essentially guaranteed to pass from how many points you racked up, but remembering seeing your favorite pros on the TV changes something inside you. You think back to your Adrenaline Rush ability and decide that now would be one hell of a time to use it, so you do. Your body pumps and pumps with more adrenaline than your body feels like it can contain.

Biting down on your bottom lip until the metallic taste of blood seeps onto your tongue, you swing down towards the people and swing a few strengthened strands around each person. "Thank god I saved Adrenaline Rush until now. Who knows what would've happened if I hadn't?" You think to yourself before bringing yourself back to the task at hand. They all look terrified. You feel the sweet, sweet feeling of adrenaline flood in your body, and you can't help but let out a sigh as your hands begin to shake and your body feels the best it ever does. Fuck, you love Adrenaline Rush.

You run your tongue across your canines and use your unoccupied hand to swing away with the people flying close behind you. You know the robot isn't far behind, its massive shadow overcasting the streets. A shudder runs up your spine as you detach the first and quickly shoot another one at a random building farther up ahead. The people you're carrying to safety are screaming, but hey, it's a hero's job to still save people, even if slaughtering villains has got to be the coolest part.

You're shooting another string of web to the corner of a tall building before you hear a deafening crash right where that robot is supposed to be. You turn your head to see what the sound came from and see a massive indent in the robot's face. "What in the hell...?" You ask yourself out loud as you see every piece of green metal go up in explosions. You slow your momentum down and throw down a small trampoline like base you've used for entertainment as a child to catch the people on as you swing yourself down onto the ground. The people are sitting in your pool of webs, untangling themselves from the sticky strands. You still feel the intense adrenaline rush pulsing through your veins as you jog up to them, ensuring they're alright.

You're walking a bit ahead of the group of people you saved, and onto the next street over. You glance up as you walk to see the kid that had punched the zero-pointer falling from the sky. It feels like the dream all over again, you sit there just watching, just as it felt to watch Katsuki fall from that log into the water beneath, only this time, an actual life was at stake. Even with Adrenaline Rush still going through you, you feel like you can't move.

"Move, dammit! You really goin' to stand here like an idiot?" You scold, and before you can think yourself out of your stupid idea, you run over to where the kid is about to land, using a few strands of web to speed yourself up. You shoot the strongest web you can manage start forming a small landing pad for the boy, it isn't much, but it should soften the initial fall. The pad is completely formed when a girl on the head of a one pointer bot flies up slightly and smacks the boy across the face, his fall stopping immediately. His face no more than a foot away from the webbing you had created, just sitting there in the air.

You don't hear what she says, but when she taps her hands together, they both fall, the green haired boy falling into your webbing face first. You watch in horror as he tries to crawl off the webbing, but as the announcer from before announces time is up, you see people around you relax. You smile to yourself but as you feel the last bit of Adrenaline Rush release from your body you feel your eyes start to flutter shut and body weaken. Everything around you begins to go fuzzy and black before you pass out.

-

Chapter .02 teaser quote: "Hey... I think I recognize you from somewhere. Izuku Midoriya, right?" 

Chapter .02 will be posted on February 8, 2025 

[spiritedstars]

Drawing Up the Plans [ Eiris Modern AU ]

Prompt: Modern AU Eris x Iris "celebrate" Valentine's Day. Inspired by this post. I have no other excuses. / Find it all here. Rated: SFW. Brought to you by: Taylor Swift's - I Think He Knows & Gorgeous Author's Note: Happy love month! Here are my morons doing their thing in modern au format. I had fun writing this so I hope you enjoy reading it :) [ Repost of my original one from 2023 with some minor updates ]

tagging: @riorsonxaden /  @climb-the-mountian / @vanserrass / @positivewitch / @animezinglife / @zenkindoflove / @rosewood-cafe / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @readthelastpaage / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @carolynmezzosoprano / @rainbowsnowflake / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens / @lalaluch /

Iris watched him with a look of slight disdain on her face as her...whatever he was, sat across from her at their local ice cream shop. Eris was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, an ice cream cone in one hand and his eyes locked on his phone in the other.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as he nonchalantly brought the cone closer to his mouth and licked the creamy sweetness. 

She clenched her fingers around her spoon and scowled. 

It was just ice cream. He was only eating ice cream and yet — Iris clenched her thighs together and her scowl deepened when his traitorous tongue darted out again to take more.

It was obscene. Slightly erotic. But mostly it was obscene and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. 

Iris didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it was doing something to her. They’d only been orbiting around each other for a few weeks, and she was barely tolerating their interactions. He was so obnoxious and yet despite her many attempts to avoid him, they kept running into each other. The two of them ended up in the same space too often for it to be anything but fate.

She blamed it on how small this town seemed to be. And the fact that he was a rich, attractive man with too much confidence. Iris had moved into town a few months ago and during her first week, stumbled into him at the local bar where he spilled his drink on her. He insisted it was an accident but that hadn’t stopped her from throwing her drink at his face in return.

Needless to say, they treaded very aggressively around each other.

“Is there something wrong, Iris?” he asked and Eris met her gaze with a slight smirk, finally putting his phone away. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Everything about you is wrong.” she mumbled and her gaze dropped to her own cup of ice cream. Iris had opted for a cup rather than a cone; She didn’t exactly trust what would come out of his mouth if she licked an ice cream cone in front of him. 

She twirled the spoon in the sweetness as Eris chuckled then made the mistake of looking up to watch him as he once more, slowly, took another lick of his ice cream with a raised brow. 

“You seem to have quite a problem with me and yet, here you are.”

“You asked me to meet you here, asshole.” she snapped and the corner of his wicked mouth lifted.

“Wound up a little tight today, are we?” he asked and had the audacity to smile as his tongue slowly lapped more ice cream.

Her lips curled in disdain once more as he smirked his way through another lick and Iris closed her eyes with a deep sigh. “What the hell do you want, Eris?”

“Are you not enjoying our date?”

Iris’s eyes shot open and both brows went up. “Date?”

“Yes.”

“You think this is a date?” she asked flatly.

“You think this isn’t?”

“When the hell did you ask me out on a date?” she asked with an incredulous laugh. “When did you dream that I said yes?”

Eris had the nerve to chuckle once more. “I asked you out to share some ice cream. On Valentine’s Day. Here we are. Date.”

Iris squinted then her gaze flickered around the shop and it hit her how blind she’d been; it was decorated with red and pink hearts everywhere. She’d been so annoyed when she walked in to meet him that Iris hadn’t even noticed. How the hell had she missed that it was Valentine’s Day? 

True, she hadn’t really celebrated it in years. But it wasn’t her fault that most of the men she’d tried dating sucked. 

Besides, it was the day after Valentine’s Day that was worth celebrating. All her favorite chocolates were on sale. 

Finally rolling her eyes at his smirk, she said, “Every time I think you’ve reached your limit of audacity, you surprise me by outrageously exceeding it.”

He smiled once more then took a deliberately slow lick of his ice cream. “I like to keep you on your toes. I think you rather enjoy it.”

“I don’t enjoy anything about you.” she snapped, stabbing at what was left of her ice cream. “I don’t even like you.” 

He snorted. “Sure. You definitely want to fuck me though. I bet you’ll like me a lot more then.” he said smoothly. 

Iris’s brows shot up and she let out a huff of laughter in disbelief, her grip tightening around her spoon. “You are one cocky motherfucker. Especially when this is your idea of a Valentine’s Day date,” she huffed. “A date I definitely did not agree to.”

“Don’t worry, I absolutely want to fuck you too,” he said, raising his ice cream to toast her. “In fact, I insist.”

Iris willed her face not to flush, for her body not to betray her by reacting to his words. In the midst of all their unfortunate meets and bickering, had she thought about what it would be like to fuck him? Sure. Would she ever admit it? Definitely not.  

“You’re unbelievable,” she said with a shake of her head. “How has no one in this town choked the life out of you yet?”

“It’s because I’m pretty.” he said with a smirk. “And very, very rich.”

“And so humble.”

“Exactly,” he said with a wink then straightened. “In all seriousness, when are we going to make this official between us?”

Iris rolled her eyes. “What, exactly, is there to make official?”

“You and me, little gazelle,” Eris replied with a knowing look. “Let’s not pretend this dance is anything but foreplay. Say yes and I’ll show you exactly the kind of dates I take a woman on.”

“Ah yes, the recycled list of dates you’ve used on all the women you go through?” she said with a snort. “Pass.”

“The kind of dates I only plan for one type of woman,” he said and the corner of his mouth ticked up in a way that made her toes curl. “And I’ve only ever met one of you.”

Iris watched him in silence, taking a moment to think of an appropriate response. He really was unbelievable. Obnoxious. Uppity. An ass most of the time. But…she had to admit, there was something that drew them to each other. Like an invisible string dragging them down the same path. 

She’d resisted at every corner. And yet…gym? Eris had been there. Cafe? He had been there. The park while on her morning walks? He’d somehow been there. If it weren’t for the look of genuine surprise on his face every time, she’d think he’d been stalking her. 

But then they also ended up at the same social events. Town meetings. Fundraisers. Parties. They’d had a…moment at the last gathering that replayed in Iris’s mind for longer than she would’ve liked. She’d deny it to her last breath but Lucien and Elain had witnessed it and though Iris loved having them as friends, she knew they were way too excited about whatever this was between her and Eris to let it go.

Iris placed her spoon in her ice cream cup and then leaned back in her chair, watching him curiously. 

“Eris.”

“Yes?” 

“What do you want from me?”

He gave her a small smile she hadn’t seen on his face before, one that softened his features and it made her instantly look away. “I simply want us to spend time together.” 

“Why?”

Eris shrugged. “You feel it. You know why,” he said. “I want to see where it goes.”

Irid did feel it. As much as she would’ve liked to deny the chemistry between them, it was hard to pretend nothing was there when seeing him automatically made her pulse start racing. She hated it. But she also wanted to see where it would go.

She pursed her lips and waited a heartbeat before answering, “Fine. On two conditions.”

He took another obscene lick of his ice cream and waved a hand for her to continue. She tried not to squirm.

“One, physical contact will be limited to what I am comfortable with and sex is completely off the table.” Iris said firmly. “My body isn’t a prize you earn. We will simply see if we have a good time.”

“Agreed,” he said graciously. “My body, however, is absolutely available should you feel the need to explore it. I will humbly oblige.”

Iris rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time. “I’m not interested in going on dates with an egotistical ass who just wants to show off his money.” she said with a pointed look. “Don’t waste my time if you aren’t actually serious about this.”

“I am very serious.” he said and frowned. “You think I enjoy feeling this way about anyone?”

Iris felt her heart flutter at the look he gave her. If she wasn’t mistaken, his ears had gotten a little red. “And what way is that?”

Eris took a bite from his cone and squinted at her for a moment before answering. “When we’re on our date, I’ll tell you.”

She hummed her agreement and tried not to fidget in her seat at the movement of his mouth. “Either way. If you’re trying to impress me just so I don’t pour more drinks over your head, know that I don’t want flashy, I want real.” she said firmly. “You need to earn my trust.” 

Eris watched her silently for a heartbeat then the corner of his mouth ticked up. “Okay.”

“And we tell no one.”

“Embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“Of course.” she said with a snort and Eris had the nerve to laugh softly. “Besides, I like privacy. People in this town are always in each other’s business. I know way too much about people’s bedroom habits.”

“Nesta and Cassian?” he asked with a snicker.

“Yes. Holy shit, do they have stamina.” Iris muttered, causing Eris to grin.

“They aren’t the only ones with stamina like that.” he said, nearly purring and Iris shot him a murderous look.

“Don’t.”

He held up a hand in mock surrender. “And your second condition?” he said then took another lick of his ice cream.

And this time Iris had finally had enough. She leaned over and yanked his cone from his hands, dropping it into her bowl. “You aren’t allowed to eat ice cream in front of me ever again.” 

Eris blinked then burst out laughing. “Why?” he said incredulously. “I thought the choice of strawberry ice cream suited our date theme.”

“We’re not on a date,” she said flatly. “And the way you eat ice cream is obscene and you should be fined for public indecency.”

Iris watched him laugh again and hated how it made her pulse race faster. Eris lit up when he laughed. It made him more youthful, and at ease, versus his usual expression that made a person want to punch him in the face.

“Ah.” he finally said with a smirk that Iris didn’t trust one bit. “I see you caught on to my tactic.”

Iris narrowed her eyes, willing herself not to flush. “And what tactic is that?” she asked, already regretting the question as his expression.

“I wanted to make sure you knew that ice cream wasn’t the only thing I could eat obscenely,” Eris said, his voice dropping low and Iris felt her body heating. “I hope my display was to your liking.”

This motherfucker. Iris took a breath and closed her eyes, slowly counting to ten before opening her eyes again to find Eris still smirking obnoxiously at her from across the table. Had she been paying extra attention to the way he ate his stupid ice cream? Yes. Would she ever admit it? No. 

Jerking her chin towards her bowl of ruined dessert. “Do you want me to dump it on your head or do you want to do it yourself?”

“I’d rather you watched me eat it again.” 

“I’d rather you choked.”

Eris chuckled and the sound made goosebumps erupt on her flesh as he stood. She watched him wipe his hands with a napkin on the table and then adjust his dress shirt, his eyes never leaving her face. Tossing the napkin into her melting bowl of dessert, Eris placed a hand on the back of her chair, his other balanced on the table, and leaned in close. 

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you weren’t devouring me with your eyes, sweetheart.” he whispered and Iris scowled with a flush. Eris paused for a breath as she turned her head to look at him and the two watched each other silently, the world suddenly silent around them.

She wondered if his heart was beating as wildly as hers. If he could see her pulse racing.

Almost as if in a trance, Eris couldn’t help but lean in to gently kiss her cheek, before meeting her gaze again. “I had fun on our date.” he murmured.

“Not a date.” she whispered but Eris only hummed.

“Agree to disagree,” he said with a slight smile. “I knew you’d be my Valentine the moment you poured that drink on me months ago.”

Her face heated. She would not think about what that meant. “I doubt you expected your Valentine to want to choke you out.”

“Oh, I absolutely would want my valentine to choke me out. You can choke me all you want on our next date.” Eris said and finally pulled back with a wink, sliding a small gift bag she hadn’t even noticed across the table to her. “This was bought prior to your conditions so our agreement still stands.”

Iris blinked and gazed up at him. “You…bought me a gift?”

“Of course. I’m not one to show up to a date empty-handed.” Eris said with a pointed look.

“It’s not a date.” she repeated but knew, this time, her refusal sounded weak enough that Eris chuckled.

“You look adorable when you’re in denial.” he cooed and couldn’t help his grin as Iris scowled up at him, running a finger down her cheek before stepping back. “I’ll pick you up at 6, Friday evening. Wear something that’ll rip my poor heart out, little valentine.” 

Iris sat in the silence that followed his smug exit, stunned at the turn of events and how fast her heart was beating. She wasn’t sure what exactly she had agreed to with Eris but felt dazed. Excited. Turned on. Slightly annoyed.

Most importantly, she needed to go shopping. 

Iris would not think about the kiss on her cheek. Or about his promises. She certainly would not think about his tongue and what that stupid mouth of his could do. 

She would only think about finding a dress that would give him the bluest of balls possible. 

Her eyes fell on the gift bag again and Iris slowly pulled it closer to peek in. A note sat atop the tissue paper, hiding whatever it was that he’d gotten her. Biting the inside of her cheek, Iris pulled out the note, trying not to think about her mixed emotions having Eris of all people getting her a Valentine’s Day gift. She opened it and read,

Happy Valentine’s Day, little gazelle. Use it and think of me. Know I could do it better.

But here’s my number so you can tell me all about how you like it. 

Iris flushed deeply and immediately eyed the bag again. “Oh god.” she whispered. Those words could mean anything but knowing Eris – knowing the way he thinks…He wouldn’t. Would he?

She could practically see his stupid face and stupid smirk in front of her and with a scowl, Iris reached for the bag again, slowly removing the gift tissue to peek beneath it at the gift. A small groan slipped from her mouth and she immediately covered it again. 

Of course, he would. 

Of course, Eris Vanserra would think a vibrator would be an appropriate gift for someone he had barely been on a date with. An expensive one at that. 

He was outrageous. Outrageous. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or freaked out that he was thinking about her pleasure. How many guys thought about a gift like this? How many guys were this fucken bold? 

Then again, every interaction with this man only proved him persistent. 

“I knew you’d be my Valentine the moment you poured that drink on me months ago.”

The words replayed in her mind and Iris pursed her lips, glancing down at the bag once more, amusement seeping through the disbelief. Eris hadn’t hesitated from the moment he met her and Iris had to admit, though his methods weren’t great — it, unfortunately, made him come off as very attractive. 

Groaning quietly to herself, Iris shoved the note back into the bag and then sighed, knowing whatever resistance she had been building against him would disappear as soon as she tested out this gift of his. The asshole knew exactly what he was doing. 

And Iris had to give credit where credit was due — she always did like a man with a plan.

[ednaeflowers]

The first thing she notices is the sparkles in Drawing-Nova's eyes. Edna stares, but can't seem to conclude much from it. Nova looks pretty ordinary for someone who is apparently very lovesick for Ludger's brother. ❛  Some people just can't take no for an answer——they're obnoxious and not worth my time.  ❜ At least, Zaveid isn't worth her time. 

❛  Poor Lurin. It sounds like you're fated to deal with this,  ❜ she says flatly, in a more deadpan manner than a mocking one. ❛  Always stuck listening to lovesick pining for your brother ... How tragic.  ❜ Edna, on the other hand, doesn't care if someone likes Eizen the same way; he's free to like anyone he wants, after all. The only thing she actually cares about is if that person can make Onii-chan happy. Of course, that can't happen now, but maybe if he got to live, perhaps that could've happened. Perhaps. If it had been the other way around, though, Edna knows she could never have a love life because Onii-chan would literally fend everyone away, accusing them of being 'unworthy' of her or whatever. 

While she cannot quite see the appeal in wanting the world to acknowledge you in such a way, his zeal amuses her. ❛  All this work for a star to be named after you. I suppose you got your work cut out for you then.  ❜ There are so many stars out there, she's pretty sure one named after him would be super hard to spot anyway——but even then, he still really wants that star. Humans are so ... determined for weird reasons. Maybe one day in the distant future, Edna can find his star during one of her usual walks.

She didn't expect much reception to her lifestyle, so she tilts her head a little at a specific part of Ludger's response, eyeing his notepad curiously. ❛  What 'responsibilities' are you tasked with?  ❜ Surely a clan that knows about seraphim have something more extraordinary to do than a clan who doesn't know of them. 

Well, that's what she thinks. Edna has never actually met clans before, much less individual people on a mountain as secluded as Rayfalke——but from the way he talks, Ludger does a lot. Ironically, he originally struck her as someone with loads of free time. Even though it seems eccentric to her that he has a portable kitchen, his actions and words imply that he has prior experience with meeting seraphim and communicating with them. He even mentioned Zaveid, Lailah, and Meebo's names earlier, and also Sorey. Clearly, they have a long history with seraphim. Did they exist around the Era of the Gods then?  

The Kresnik Clan ... Maybe Sorey and Alisha would've liked to meet them. ❛  I'll humor you by answering yes,  ❜ she casually answers, lifting up the bag of palmiers he gifted her, ❛  since I can see and acknowledge your effort. Good Lurin. I'll let you eat one of the marron glacé even though they're for me, because I'm benevolent like that.  ❜  

Oh right, Edna wouldn't know Nova. He could explain, but visual aids are always better. So... flexing his artistic skills, Ludger sketched a head shot of Nova. He made sure she had that twinkle in her eye she saved for his brother, who either ignored it or never noticed. Once he finished, he'd call his work decent-- not frame it on your wall worthy, but it did resemble a person without any glaring flaws.

'This is her. She's very friendly and can get anyone smiling. Only negative I got about her is she constantly gushes about dating my brother one day. No amount of telling her it's not happening stopped her.' Maybe she can relate to Lord Zaveid in that way-- both want people they'll never get. Nova just has one where Zaveid has... a lot, probably.

As expected, Lady Edna does confirm his dream's a cheese wheel with a side of cheese. Although mysteriously, she drops her snark to warn him: life's not going to pull any punches, so he better make sure he leaves no regrets behind if he wants to instill hope in others. Ludger shoots a concerned frown for a second until he figures it's not his business to pry.

'Don't worry, I've gotten pretty good at reminding my stubborn big brother he can't eat pasta margheritas in the afterlife. And I'm determined to fulfill my duties to this world until my time's up! They'll name a real star after me by the time I'm done!' Ludger punctuates the message with a full on salute. 'Or maybe there'll be a dish called "The Ludger's Special" in my honor. Either's fitting for me. ( ꈍ◡ꈍ)'

His syrup sample earned itself perfect marks. Ludger puffs his chest with pride-- and who says you can't make a five star meal on the road? Though most don't carry nearly as much as he does. Lady Edna also shares her daily routine: walking around and visiting her brother. Rayfalke's a big place, so there's definitely enough ground to take up a full day. Though her brother... was he...?.He'd ask Victor, he knows that stuff.

'Not boring at all! But I'd probably go mad worrying I'm not doing enough to make things better. I wouldn't be able to talk to you like this if I didn't feel that responsibility.' Like most in the clan, he relied on his Oath to see and treat Hellions. Of course if he could go back, he would've chosen something different... or at least specified a subject.

'Sorry if that's a bit heavy-handed. (；^ω^) Guess that shows I'm worrying even now huh? But that's our family business: worrying about the world in ways most humans can't!' Or maybe that's just a symptom of being Julius' little brother. 'Though right now my biggest worry is making sure this visit's a treat both in taste and company. Is that working so far? (人ゝω・）'

[fobnsfwdoodlesbackup]

Hi y'all, I just wanted to talk a little about the behind the scenes of what I've been up to, to give y'all a little transparency and to open myself up for any tips or input! 🙏 Thank you for your continued support and for taking the time to look at my art 🫶

First and foremost I wanted to give some transparency about my art capacity.

As og followers may remember, I started this blog when I was doing art full time. Eventually my living expenses grew and I had to go back to work. I find myself in a cycle of "I'll make more art soon, once I get a job!" And "I'll make more art soon, once I am done with this job!" I lost my most recent job suddenly, having had an extension waved over my head until the last day(October 7th). Now I'm excited to have more time for art, but I am also feeling a rush to get a new job ASAP as I've been living paycheck to paycheck. I dream of doing this work full time, I'm just scared it's not quite there yet and I worry that I come off as scammy or dishonest when I anticipate more stability around the corner.

Second, I've been struggling with the Patreon. It's taken me a while to come to terms with this, but from what I've seen Patreon is not intuitive at all from the creator end. It doesn't do a good job of organizing addresses, emails, showing who or who isn't subscribed to me, or organizing and displaying the work I put on there. I've been really shocked by this experience, since lots of big names use Patreon. It's been a great way to streamline support, but it's been unhelpful in every other regard. I would like to continue using it, but I will most likely post more wips or process videos there in the future.

Which brings me to my third point, zines. I love making zines so much, it feels personal and fulfilling and fun! However the Patreon issues make it harder to keep information in order about where to send zines, or even where to message folks about them. In addition to this, the post office has been a big barrier to me, oftentimes only being open at the same time as my dayjob. Making zines can take days, then sending them out is a whole other monster.

This work is so important to me. Drawing peoples fantasies, representing body types, creating work around sexuality and the human experience feels like what I'm meant to do. I've made comics since I was a kid. This is the dream to me. The friends I've been able to make through this work are so important to me, and the conversations have been invaluable. Not to mention fun! I wanna doodle, I wanna draw hot stuff, I wanna thirst over these dudes! I want to play!

But I also just want to be transparent about the barriers I'm working around to share that experience. I'm completely self taught, both in art AND in running shops, building websites, running 8 accounts, etc. I take a lot of time to learn the logistics of these things, and try to make them make sense for my relationship with y'all (I do not want to paywall my art!! I don't want to!!!). This year my desktop broke down (the main one I use for all paintings and digital art). I've paused my Etsy shops and my Patreon to try to catch up with things. Trying to learn to paint in a completely different program. Then lost my job with no savings.

At the end of the day I don't want anything to come between me sharing my art with you. I wish I could doodle a thing, take a picture, and post it here. No third party site, no shop, no subscription. Just sharing my art with you. I promise I'm trying to figure out how to stay as close to that as possible, and I want to thank y'all for sticking with me as I untangle all of that.

So, what can you expect in the near future?

I'm working on a couple of painting commissions right now, which you should be able to see in the next couple of days! I want to catch up on kinktober and get those posted as well. There's a comic commission in progress which I'm very eager to work on, and which I think y'all will be excited for! To ease the weight of the Patreon I think I may do less zines/polls there and more wips and process videos! If possible, I want to do more full colored work too.

Thank you again for enjoying my work, and if you have any input or tips my inbox is always open 🙏🫶💕

[swordmaid]

having shri’iia thoughts as one does bc GUESS who’s save file completely died when the new patch came out nooo we have to replay her again 🤭 alas. just stewing on the thought of how she never got to fuck her Mistress even though she wanted to…!!!! like she was out there getting psychologically tortured and mind broken but she was just like WHY won’t you fuck me im literally doing everything for you. which is so bad for her, woman who already has an excruciatingly low self worth because she missed the mark on the standard for lolth’s children (and that’s worse than not fitting in the standard at all) by something out of her own control btw (not being born in a noble house) but she’s been recognised and blessed by her goddess, and she’s been invited to join a drow house so everything should be good right?? she should be desirable right?? finally everything is correct and well and good and the way it should be right????? but no..!! it’s not..!! and so she’s doing everything for this woman, no dignity left, literally doing anything to get her approval, to be told that she’s finally enough, and she’s finally fitting in - and she gets it sometimes, she gets ignored most times tbh and it’s just this painful excruciating stew of self loathing and insecurity that she’s in, and she’s in there for a century but the thing is she can’t even give up. it’s not in her nature to. and she’s done too much to just give up , and she’s been doing this for a long time that she can’t give up and lolth didn’t raise no quitters so she sticks by it, trying to achieve that hopeless praise. but then one day she gets dropped like nothing, everything she’s done and suffered and worked towards and sacrificed gets thrown out bc her goddess isn’t pleased with her and good luck going home btw you’re not welcome here anymore bc ur pathetic. the rug gets pulled under her feet and she’s left in this strange world that she can barely navigate in let alone speak the language and u expect her to b fine with that…?

[jrueships]

why is Jare kinda hot lol like even in that video w kyrie i was thinking he sounded so silly but he looked good doing it!

do you forgive him for this because i dont

[blackcatxmagic]

Corey's smile was so damn cute, and it just made Leo smile in turn. How had he gone into the grocery store so many times before and not noticed Corey? The only explanation that made sense was that he'd somehow missed him every time because Leo knew he'd remember that hair if nothing else. But something drew him in to the other man, the sweetness, that innocence, and Leo was so glad they were doing this. Grinning at Corey, he replied, "Well I'm glad you appreciate my terrible attempts at humor. It's true though - you are sweet, like this Mai Tai." Then a mischievous smile appeared on his face, and Leo added, "I bet you taste just as good." It was a little dirty, sure, but...not all the thoughts Leo had been having about the other man had been pure and wholesome.

In the booth, Leo kept finding ways to touch Corey, his shoulder, his arm, fingers brushing through his hair and grazing his neck, featherlight and just enough pressure to get a reaction out of the other man. His free hand moved to Corey's thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, before rubbing it a little bit. Leo noticed Corey's bashfulness, and he was watching for signs that it was because he was uncomfortable with Leo's touch, but as he spoke, it seemed pretty clear that there was more to it. "I get that," Leo replied. "Sometimes I feel like I don't think things through enough, so both extremes can be hindering, you know? Still, it blows my mind that you're not beating them off with a stick." And then because apparently he wasn't as mature as he thought, Leo chuckled softly at the "beating them off" comment, though he didn't bring it up. "So many guys would be into your vibe," Leo told Corey. "I know it's something you're purposely doing, that this is just who you are, which honestly makes it better. Not everyone likes a bad boy; some people like the sweet ones." For his part, Leo liked all different kinds of guys, but Corey was definitely one of the types that appealed to him; he wondered what kinds of noises he could draw from that innocent mouth. Leo was tempted to call this a date now, but he didn't go that far because he didn't want to lead Corey on. So far, he really liked the man, but that wasn't what Leo was looking for. Still, he was having a nice time and hoped this would be the beginning of a friendship between the two men. And yes, Leo hoped that friendship included naked time, though that wasn't a requirement.

Laughing at Corey's remark, Leo replied, "I don't know if I'd say loads, but I do alright. I go on a lot of first dates...not so many second ones. Though I guess I define 'date' pretty loosely. Like is it a date if I pick up someone at a bar and take them back to my place?" If so, then that was a very regular occurrence for Leo. This kind of thing though didn't happen very much. "I flirt a lot though, so I guess practice makes perfect." Leo finished off his drink, then gestured to the bartender for another before returning his attention to Corey. "You know, I bet everyone in this bar is jealous of our gorgeous hair," he said, only sort of joking. "It's almost unfair to them to have this much beauty in one place, where they can look but not touch. Only one person gets to touch you tonight." As if to punctuate this statement, Leo slid his hand further up Corey's thigh, giving it another squeeze. "You know, maybe later tonight you could come to my place. I have a hot tub, so..." Leo trailed off, just giving Corey a suggestive look as the bartender brought his next drink. After taking another sip, Leo said more seriously, "Really though, you've got a lot to offer. I hope you can see that, Corey."

Corey felt a little warm under Leo's praise, his heart fluttering with both the compliment and the warmth in Leo's gaze and touch. He found himself smiling, a little shyly, feeling that familiar mix of excitement and slight nervousness. Leo’s words made him feel seen, and it was... well, it was nice. It had admittedly been a while since Corey had let himself be so open to such energy from another person, even despite it being something that he so often craved.

"Thanks, Leo," Corey responded softly, looking up at him with a small but genuine smile. He chuckled lightly at the joke that Leo made to compare him to the drink, shaking his head as he tried to hide just how endearing he thought those words were. "That's actually really funny," he chuckled, almost giggled. "It's not lame at all, I really appreciate it." The Mai Tai was refreshing, and he could already tell Leo had been right – he did like it. Was Corey that easy to read? Or did Leo have some supernatural sense for guessing drink orders?

Corey leaned into the warmth of Leo’s side, his own arm brushing against Leo’s lightly, appreciating the closeness. He looked up at the other man again, his smile growing wider as he spoke - just as his nerves did, but the compliments weren't unwelcome. "Thank you," he thanked him again, feeling himself grow more and more bashful, but trying to overcome it, trying to remain cool, calm, and collected. "I actually don't go on that many dates," he admitted. "I can be a bit of an overthinker," he put it extremely lightly, "and so sometimes that gets in the way. It's not that I don't want to go on dates, and it's not like I'm only kind to people because I'm trying to date them but... I don't know, it hasn't happened for a little while," he shrugged, only catching himself at the end there, realising how open and vulnerable he was being. "Sorry," he apologised, taking another sip of his drink. "I bet you go on loads of dates though, you've got the whole flirting thing down perfectly." Not to mention, Leo was extremely attractive too.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved

(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)

Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!

He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.

He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.

At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)

The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.

The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.

Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.

Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D

I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.

[crypticgrayson]

Round and Round ~ Part 2

Pairing: Front Man/Hwang In-ho x F!Reader

Warnings: Blood, Death, Smut, bit of angst

Summary: Continues on from the previous part, the aftermath of the Mingle game and Gi-hun’s plan to go after the Front Man..

Part 1

You moved your hair behind your ears before turning your head to look at the man sat next to you on the stairs leading up to your bunk beds, the circle on Young-il’s chest now replaced by a cross after the next round of voting. Even with over half of all the players dead after the mingle game, the vote turned out to be a draw. Young-il noticed you staring and drew up one of his brows, causing you to quickly turn back around.

You opened the box of food on your lap, surprised to see a fork on the side of the tin. “Something you wanted to say?” Young-il asked as he moved down a step to sit next to you, “No, not in particular” You replied. “Oh? They didn’t give me one” Young-il spoke as he nodded towards your tin, his eyes falling on the metal fork, moving your gaze towards the metal box in his hands to see he wasn’t lying.

Young-il closed the tin again with a sigh, laying it down at his feet as you started on your food, feeling Young-il’s thigh pressed against yours as he spread his legs slightly to close the distance between you. You knew he was testing you to see what your reaction would be, if you would move away, but you didn’t move an inch as you continued eating, not acknowledging the contact between you.

When you finished your food not much later, you had been starving after running around in the last game, you held out your fork to the man besides you, taking it from your outreached hand before grabbing his tin from the floor. Young-il barely managed to take a few bites when everyone’s looked up, some bloodied players with circles on their chests walking in, led by a group of pink guards. Your eyes fell on the bloody fork in one of the men’s hand, another group walking in from the other side, seeing some people you knew in this group with crosses on their chests.

“What happened?” Gi-jun asked when the x group walked over to the rest of you, the room clearly split in the middle by x’s and o’s. “Thanos and 333 broke out into a fight, 333 killed- killed him, which caused everyone to join in” Dae-ho spoke, everyone moving closer to listen in. “Did we lose many?” Jung-bae joined in, everyone turning their heads to the other group to see they were already staring. “Count how many they have, and how many we have” Young-il suggested, Gi-hun started to count your group as Young-il counted the other side.

“Well?” You asked, your gaze shifting between them. “They have 65” Young-il replied, Gi-hun sighing softly. “We have 66, they’ll never accept that for the revote tomorrow” Gi-hun spoke, most of your group nodding in agreement. “Did more people get forks in their boxes?” You asked, a few people raising their hands. “So they have weapons if they want to try and take some of us out” You continued, Gi-hun biting down on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought.

“They’ll attack us tonight, when they think we’re asleep, they only have to take out two of us to have the majority vote tomorrow” Gi-hun spoke softly, making a shiver run down your spine as you wrapped your arms around your waist. “We should take turns keeping watch, then all of us can still catch some sleep for the next game” Young-il spoke, everyone nodding in agreement. Everyone moved to their beds after a little while had passed, Gi-hun and Jung-bae taking first watch.

You laid your head down on your pillow when the lights dimmed, letting out a nervous sigh, knowing falling asleep would be difficult as hell with your heart beating loudly in your ears. After what you estimated to be an hour had passed you sat up with a sigh, wanting to join Gi-hun but a voice softly called out to you from the bed beside yours. “What are you doing?” Young-il whispered, your eyes shifting toward him. “I can’t sleep, I’ll switch with one of them” You replied, nodding your head in the direction of the two men keeping watch.

“You should really try to sleep, you need energy for tomorrow, Gi-hun and Jung-bae are keeping an eye out” He replied, “I know.. but by the time he notices someone’s all the way back here, it’ll already be too late” You spoke, making him sigh in agreement. “Come sleep next to me then, I’ll stay awake so you can catch some shut eye” Young-il told you, shifting to the side of his mattress to give you space. You had to bite back a laugh at his words, wanting to tell him how that wouldn’t be any better since your trust in him had faltered because of what happened in the past game, but you still moved out of your bed.

You took the three steps to cross the path between your bunks, sitting down next to him before lying down, your back facing him. Young-il let out a deep breath before lying down beside you, placing a hand on your arm as he moved his other hand to prop his head up, doing as he promised. His hand on your arm drawing gentle patterns through your jacket somehow calmed your nerves, and you were already fighting to keep your eyes open, sleep overtaking you not much later. Young-il looked down at your sleeping face with a sigh, carefully lifting his hand to move a loose strand of hair out of your face, moving the back of his fingers over the incredibly soft skin of your cheek. He had to hold himself back to not press his lips where his fingers had just been before he heard footsteps come in his direction, moving his hand back down to your arm.

It didn’t take long for Young-il to shake you awake, opening your eyes to see Gi-hun kneeled in front of you too. “We need to do something, they’re planning their attack and we don’t have enough people strong enough to fight back” Gi-hun softly spoke, Jung-bae stood behind him. “What are you suggesting?” Young-il asked as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, sitting up too. “Let’s wait until they attack, the guards will come to stop the fight because they don’t want too many of us to die, we steal their guns, and-..” Gi-hun spoke before stopping, furrowing his brows. “And?” Young-il questioned, Gi-hun scratching his jaw before replying, “We attack the front man”

You let out a laugh before noticing the serious look on Gi-hun’s face, “You’re being serious?” you asked. “Yes, this could be our only chance, and it’s better than having to fight them” Gi-hun replied, a silence falling between the four of you. “Let’s do it” Jung-bae spoke, “I’m in as well” You added, the three of you turning to Young-il who stayed silent. He looked up and the stoic look on his face shifted to a smile you now easily recognized as fake, “Let’s tell the others” he spoke before getting up.

You spent the rest of night waiting for movement from the other side of the room, until all your heads perked up when you heard footsteps approaching. You heard a scream from somewhere in front of you before several fights broke out, Young-il grabbing your shoulder to pull you behind him, leading you away from the fights and down the stairs. “Let’s hide so we can grab one of the guards” Young-il softly spoke, his hand still behind him to hold on to you. You looked to your side to see Gi-hun and Jung-bae fighting with two other men, holding down the urge to run over to them as you kneeled behind a flipped bed next to Young-il.

What felt like hours were a few seconds in reality before the lights came on, hearing the loud footsteps of the pink guards’ boots. “Everyone halt and lay down your weapons!” The leader of the guards called, hearing the commotion stop. You peeked past the side of the bed to see the guards were too far away to grab, before Gi-hun started another fight to try to lead a guard his way. Young-il and you exchanged a look when you heard boots coming closer, waiting until the guard was close enough before you popped out behind the cover, Young-il throwing the guard to the floor with his full weight as you grabbed the rifle from the guard’s hands, firing at the other guards as Young-il pulled you back into cover.

When you hit a few of the guards who had ran over to close in on you some of the others from your group had managed to grab a couple of rifles, all of having shot down around 10 of the guards before they decided to retreat. “Let’s go, this is our chance!” Gi-hun yelled, walking over to the pink bodies to grab whatever ammo and walkie talkies they had on them. “Who’s with us?” Jung-bae called out, the only ones to respond being Hyun-ju, Dae-ho, 156, 047 and 246. “We’ll never make it with just 9 of us” Jung-bae softly spoke, making Gi-hun shake his head, “We don’t have a choice, let’s go”

Hyun-ju explained to you how to reload the gun and check on the magazine when you made it to the stairs, before a few bullets flew just inches past your head, all of you crouching down before shooting back. “Stay close to me at all times” Young-il told you as he moved in front of you, giving him a quick nod in response before you made your way up, shooting at whatever bit of pink you saw peeking through the openings around you. “They’re coming from over here!” Gi-hun yelled as he stood at the front of your group, peeking around a corner. “Jung-bae, come with me, the rest of you cover us until I’ll call you over the walkie to tell you if it’s safe” Gi-hun continued, disappearing around the corner with Jung-bae before you could even protest. “Let’s hold our ground here!” Hyun-ju called out, each of you taking your positions as you shot at the guards making their way over. You felt in your pocket to check if the full magazine was still there, feeling the heavy weight of it in your jacket to your relief. You saw Young-il throw away his empty magazine and load his gun with a new one, checking yours to see you still had half of it left. A few minutes had passed, yet your walkie stayed silent, concern raising within you as you grabbed Hyun-ju’s arm.

“Some of us should check on them, it’s taking too long and our ammo is running out” You told her, Hyun-ju humming in agreement. “I’ll go, Y/N can come with me and we need one more” Young-il spoke, 047 raising his hand. “Let’s go” Young-il continued, running over to the door Gi-hun had jammed open with an empty rifle. You followed the dead bodies sprawled out through the hallways and stairs, until you heard gunshots come from close by. The three of you turned the final corner before your eyes fell on Gi-hun and Jung-bae, who signed for you to stay back. “They just keep coming, we need to find a way to attack them from behind” Gi-hun whispered, ducked behind the wall. “I think I saw a way back there, we’ll attack from there” Young-il replied, “Good luck” Gi-hun spoke as his eyes shifted to yours.

You followed Young-il back the way you came, 047 close behind you. Young-il shot at a guard who popped out behind a corner, before you heard his gun was empty. You had just reloaded your own and doubted for a second when Young-il threw his rifle to the floor with a loud curse, moving the band off your shoulder before handing your rifle to him. “You’re a better shot than I am” You told him, Young-il taking it from your outreached hand. You made it up another set of stairs, Young-il taking out the two guards before making it around the corner, seeing the guards at the top were stood with their backs towards you.

“This is it” Young-il softly spoke as he turned to face you and 047, “How much ammo do you have left?” He asked 047, who opened his magazine to check. “Over half” 047 told him, Young-il doing the same. “I have less than half” He told the man, 047 moving up. “I’ll take lead then, if they turn around I have more bullets to fire at them” 047 spoke, Young-il giving a nod in agreement. 047 was clearly shaking as he moved up the stairs before gunshots sounded from right next to you, 047 falling to the floor as you saw the bullet holes in his back. You took a few steps back as you looked at Young-il with his rifle lifted, feeling your heart shoot into your throat as you moved to the other side of the stairs with you back pressed against the wall before the pink guards turned in your direction.

Before Young-il could yell out a loud “No!” a gunshot sounded before you felt a sharp pain at your shoulder, falling to your knees as you moved a hand up to the painful spot. You moved your hand back down when you felt a warm liquid cover your fingers, seeing blood dripping from your hand before you lost your balance, moving your hand towards a step in an attempt to hold yourself up. “Get them!” Young-il yelled at the guards before throwing his rifle to the floor, moving over to you as he pressed his hand to your shoulder to try to stop the bleeding. You used your last strength to look at him before huffing, “I knew I-.. I shouldn’t have trusted-…” you muttered before everything went black.

~~~

You blinked a few times as you felt warmth coming from your left side, feeling that you were lying on something soft and a warm yellow light was around you. You wanted to lift your hand to rub your eyes but pain spread from your shoulder as soon as you lifted it too far up, hearing rustling coming from a bit further away as footsteps neared you. You turned your head towards the source of the warmth to see you were lying on a couch next to a fireplace, a hand moving towards the side of your face as you turned to look at who it belonged to. “Shh you’re ok, you’re safe” A voice you recognized sounded, but your vision was still too blurry to make out who it was.

Where even were you? The last thing you remembered was speaking to Gi-hun and Jung-bae as you and Young-il fought through the guards, before he-, before he shot 047. You moved to sit up but Young-il gently pushed you back down, your vision shifting into focus to see he had changed out of his player uniform into a black t shirt and pants. “Young-il, what are you-“ You tried to say but he interrupted you, sitting down on the edge of the couch to lean over you, “Let’s start with; that’s not my name, it’s In-ho, and yes I wasn’t just a player”

You parted your lips to say something but you didn’t know where to start, his whole demeanor had changed compared to who you thought him to be, looking at your shoulder when he finished taping the bandage on it. “Why?” You asked, feeling tears edging to roll out of the corner of your eyes but you quickly blinked them away, slowly sitting up which In-ho allowed this time. “That’s a very long story, the only thing you need to know is that.. I have grown very fond of you, I never meant for them to shoot you” In-ho told you, the same softness you had seen in his eyes earlier returning. “I’m so very sorry for that” He muttered before leaning towards you, pressing his lips against the only part of your shoulder that wasn’t covered in bandages. You let out a shaky breath before he moved upright again, his hand slowly running down your arm. You only now realized you were only dressed in your white but blood stained tanktop and the green sweatpants you had been in since the start of all this, wondering if he was the one to undress you and take care of your wound.

You had so many questions but your head was too clouded to even think straight, made only worse when he ran his fingers through your hair, your attraction to him somehow taking up all your thoughts instead of his sudden betrayal. You knew it would only be rational to hit him in the face and ask him where your friends were, but somehow you could only focus on his dark gaze looking over you as his hand combed through your hair. “What are you going to do to me?” You asked him, your eyes meeting his, his brows furrowing as he met your gaze. “That all depends on you, sweetheart” In-ho spoke, moving his hand out of your locks to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheekbone. Your eyes fell on the gun laying on the table behind him, In-ho noticing and turning your head to make sure your gaze was only on him

He gave you a second to reply but when you stayed silent he moved the slightest bit closer to you, his face now close enough so you could feel his breath, your lips parting automatically as you held his gaze. His hand moved down around the base of your neck, setting gentle pressure before closing the distance, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss. You let out a gasp before allowing his tongue to slip inside, his arms wrapping around you before he nudged you to lie down, moving on top of you without ever breaking the kiss.

Your hands disappeared into his soft hair which caused a moan to leave him, grinding his hips into you as his hands grazed over your sides, moving up slightly to look down at you. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the moment I laid eyes on you, jesus” He groaned, his fingers trailing down your ribs before stopping at your waist, grabbing onto the hem of your tanktop before gently stripping it off you. He moved a hand behind you when he helped you out of the top to continue on your bra, sliding it down your arms before throwing it to join your tanktop on the floor. In-ho propped himself up to take in your exposed body, pulling at your sweatpants before pushing them down your legs, the only garment covering you now being your panties.

Your fingers clawed at his back before he lowered himself down on top of you again, moving his head down to let his teeth graze over the sensitive skin of your neck before sucking at exactly the right spot, unable to hold down the moan that escaped your lips. One of his hands trailed down your chest to your stomach before stopping at the hem of your panties, his fingers teasing at the edge before moving further down, rubbing you through the soft fabric. You both let out a gasp as you moved your hands under his shirt, his warm skin under your fingertips driving you even further to the edge as you closed your eyes, pressing your face into his neck, his heavy breathing loud against your ear.

“I can barely hold myself back, I need to be inside you” In-ho groaned, a gasp escaping you before pulling off his shirt, In-ho moving back to let you move it over his head, disposing it next to your pile of clothes, his pants following soon after. “Please..” You muttered as you moved a hand up in his thick dark hair, both of your underwear joining the floor soon after, his hand back between your legs as he spat on his fingers before easing two of them inside you. You couldn’t make out which of your moans was louder when your walls clenched around his index and middle finger, his other hand digging into your waist.

“I need to fuck you” In-ho growled against your neck, moving his fingers out of you before moving them between his lips to clean off your juices, his hands on both sides of your head, dug into the pillows of the couch beneath you. “I want you to, In-ho please..” You mewled as he moved himself against you, one hand wrapped around your throat as he slowly pushed into you, closing your eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours. One of your hands was on his back, your nails pressing half moons into his skin when he picked up his pace, your other hand pulling on his hair every time he thrusted into you. In-ho pressed his body even closer to you, his arms wrapped around you as you felt his warm pants on your face, your eyes meeting his which caused a deep groan to leave him, his tongue meeting yours in a messy kiss.

“You feel like heaven, fuck” In-ho muttered against your lips, feeling that he had to hold back in order not to fill you up already, wanting to savor this moment as long as he could. “I want to feel you cum inside me, In-ho” You moaned as he looked down at you, feeling his body stutter at your words before fucking into you completely, causing a loud moan to leave you as he thrusted into you as deep as he could. “Such a good girl for me..” In-ho moaned as you felt pressure building inside your belly as he fucked you into the couch, both of your bodies starting to get covered in sweat as your moans filled the room. You hooked your legs behind his back to somehow urge him even deeper, feeling a shiver spread through him before burying himself inside you, a load growl escaping him as he pressed his face against your neck. Both of your hands buried in his hair as you let him ride out his orgasm, his arms wrapped around you so tight you had trouble breathing. You felt him fill you up completely as he slowed down before stopping, still buried deep inside you as you felt his cum leak out of you, dripping down your lips.

When he finally caught his breath he moved his head up to meet your cloudy gaze, his pupils dilated so wide his eyes looked black, lowering his head so his nose rubbed against yours before pressing a soft kiss on your lips. He carefully moved out of you as he moved to lie down behind you, rolling over on your side as In-ho moved against you. His arms wrapped around you as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck, moving your hand up to grab onto his lower arm as you eased against his warm chest. “In-ho, I-…” “Shh, let keep the talking for tomorrow yeah? For tonight.. I am far from done with you” He interrupted you, unable to hide the grin on your face when his lips pressed to your neck, pulling you even closer against him, knowing you were in for a very long night..

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 · 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧

contents: fluff. established relationship. you always sleep better when you're with him. 600 wc.

It’s been long since darkness cloaked the firmament and Sylus is absorbed in the tranquil silence of his studies overlooking documents and official records. A common routine given his atypical profession in dealing with illegal weaponry and other business practices that caught his interest. His fingers idly tapping against the armrest come to a halt when faint footsteps reach his ears. The sound draws nearer and closer with each pace and the corner of his mouth tugs upward into a smirk while he waits in anticipation.

“Kitten, shouldn’t you be in bed where I had left you?” Sylus meets your heavy-lidded gaze and registers your appearance as a cashmere blanket wraps around your shoulders and your hair tousled from what seems to be troubled sleep. Despite his question, he beckons you with a gesture and you settle across his lap, your body turning in towards him to nuzzle your face into his neck with your arms coiling around him. He gently shifts your weight closer to him for a more secure hold and lays a sweet kiss on your head once your movement stills.

“You’re more comfy… way more comfy. I prefer this much more.” You hum and return his kiss by brushing your lips against his skin. He can feel you ease into him as he studies your adorable sleepy face and his heart swells with so much love and tenderness for you. He loves it when you seek him out even when you've spent the entire day together and still can't get enough of him.

“Is that so? I suppose I’m more comfortable than a bed, huh?” He strokes your hair, lulling you deeper into your drowsiness and you can only muster a noise of contentment. He wonders if he can emulate the same sense of comfort you provide him when he’s resting his head on your lap. The sweet and intimate sensation of your fingers caressing through his silver locks with the lingering scent of your perfume makes everything seem right in the world even if just brieftly. “You know I can’t work when you’re in my lap like this. I have too many distractions that way. You and the cute way you snore.”

You grunt softly. “I do not snore… do you really want me to leave?” You slowly unravel yourself from him with a small pout on your lower lip, and he softens with the realization that maybe he shouldn’t have teased you when you’re laced with sleep. You feel something warm against your forehead through your bleary eyes, and he can’t have his darling feeling unloved and unwanted by mistake and he intends to remedy that. His hand reaches up and moves your head back where it was moments ago and you are pliant under his touch.

“Now, I didn’t say you had to go anywhere. Stay here with me. I promise you won’t get in the way.” Sylus cooes you gently, his hand smooths along your back and he rests his cheek against your hair as he savors the feeling of having you in his arms. “I love you, sweet kitten. Sleep now. I’ll hold you until you do.” You murmur you love him back and for a few minutes, there’s nothing but silence and the steady rhythm of your breathing as your consciousness begins to drift.

Sylus gazes down at you with a fond and affectionate expression, whispering quiet reassurances that he hopes will reach you in your dreams. He resumes skimming through the paperwork he was doing before, his actions slower and deliberate so as not to wake you. Although his focus has shifted, he enjoys having you here with him like this and he could certainly get used to it.

[ghostedbunnie]

nightmare in the daylight

knight!ghost x fem!reader

based on my prompt that you can find here.

warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink

a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶

Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.

The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.

After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.

The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”

A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.

After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.

Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.

“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.

You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly. 

"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.

"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.

"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.

“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.

“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in. 

“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach. 

With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.

His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.

His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.

You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.” 

You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.

“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.” 

If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.

You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.

“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.

Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”

At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.

Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.

taglist: @a66-1 , @ghostlythots , @rttxcmt , @september-22-1998 , @fluffysmiko , @gyusbrownie , @bumblebeesfromvenus , @magicalforestcat , @nommingonfood , @tami-doodles , @fateisnotafactor , @m-a-l-a-c-z-a-r-n-a , @nicolebarnes , @msdevil333 , @lilpothoscuttings , @tealeaftallulah , @not-reptilian , @moonfloweronmars , @aliceinwonderland-5678 , @marshmelloe , @i-love-you-just-the-same, @lazyperfectioniste , @tragedyinwaves , @thisisforthebest97 , @talkingcorn , @hxnneydew , @resplendantrosewood , @telvannitea , @the-casual-act , @hello-lemons, @kiwicopia , @just-a-sewer-goblin

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! ❞

❝ I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! ❞

✧ pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader

✧ summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks

✧ wc: 8,180

Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror — cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxers—

This was a curse — literally. 

Curses were made up of different negative human emotions — from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so — but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses he’s swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste — a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didn’t come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions — at least for most of them. 

The one he had swallowed today was different — he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building — from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place — assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents. 

But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with — a grotesque creature that stared back at him — its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didn’t care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most — its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him. 

It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight — far too easy — and it seemed to watch him summon curses — and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow. 

He had kept the curse on hand — he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash — though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early — Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but you— 

He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said. 

“When are you guys gonna fuck already?” the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite  — strong in ability, but not in tact, “you and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to Kyoto—” 

“That was years ago—” 

“She has a key to your apartment—“ 

“So do you!” he glares. 

“Then what about last night at the bar?” Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, “you could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone — and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,” 

If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend — infinity be damned, “She looked uncomfortable, what was I going to do—” 

“Well, she certainly didn’t look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?” He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, “what are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? You’re telling me you’re not gonna regret it, Suguru?” Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, “You guys just got to hurry up and fuck,” 

Suguru swats the crushed can away, “You’re disgusting,” 

He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, “Disgusting, but correct, and if I’m right, you’re taking some of my missions off my hands,” he grins. 

And Satoru’s words had been running around in Suguru’s head — just like any annoying song on the radio — but he couldn’t let Satoru’s words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again — he couldn’t lose you, not again. 

Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout? 

You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about? 

He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time. 

You: Let’s keep it that way! :) 

He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place — you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table. 

And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again. 

Satoru was right — and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else — you always waited for  him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else — even from Satoru. You wouldn’t leave him alone, you wouldn’t stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything. 

Until he did — one late night you spent up together — he didn’t sleep much those days anyway.  And he told you everything — the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasn’t yourself — it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night. 

“You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to grieve — but don’t bottle it up,” your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, “don’t let it kill you from the inside out,” 

“I feel like I did die — along with Amanai,” and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched. 

“There, you’re definitely not dead,” you say, “so don’t act like you are. And don’t act like you’re alone — because you’re not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko — even Nanami and—“ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara — “Haibara wouldn’t want you to hide from us, he looked up to you — more than anyone else, even Satoru,” 

“I don’t know why,” he mutters with a sigh. 

“I do,” your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, “because you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and you’re strong,” 

He scoffs, “Satoru is the strongest,” 

“And you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? You’re the only person who can understand him — and he’s the only one who understands you,” 

He gives a small chuckle, “not the only one,” and he tears his eyes away, hoping you don’t see the way his cheeks burned. 

And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up — you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him. 

You saved them together — Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back — without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) — and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Geto’s care, and your own. 

At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left — and you were the only one of your class left — and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didn’t show it. 

“I’m leaving for Kyoto,” you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, “this place holds too many memories — i need perspective, I need space from all of this,” 

He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay — ask if he wasn’t enough to make you stay. But he doesn’t, because it’s the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, “You’ll come to visit right?” 

He knows you’re blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch. 

But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult — for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively — but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance. 

But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over — Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukuna’s vessel — and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed — your days off spent in his apartment — as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldn’t help but wonder — when he’d glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on — if the special grades were the only reason you’d come back. Your fingers were so close to each other’s on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine. 

One he couldn’t dare to cross. 

But It was fine, just as he told Satoru — you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen — no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadn’t. 

Until he decided to consume the curse — and his heart was no longer the problem. 

Or at least, not his main problem. 

He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants — only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet — as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses — he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out. 

He holds the balled curse in his palm — he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy — the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp — though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut. 

It…wasn’t as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm — it was still appalling to consume, but it was….sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded. 

That should have been his first clue. 

Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water — was it even cold? 

Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you. 

….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met—

This wasn’t helping. 

The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on. 

Fuck. 

No, he couldn’t. 

But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand. 

He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty you’d look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit. 

“Suguru, please—“ 

“Tell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,” he’d murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock. 

“Need your cock — need you to fuck me,” you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does. 

Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And he’d fuck you hard, just like he’s fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass. 

You’d cum before he would, he would make sure of it — one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now. 

He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold. 

He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard — the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it. 

What the fuck is going on? 

He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately — every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him. 

He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you — of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your panties— 

He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror — skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need — he was so fucked. 

He called Shoko — the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings — finally five rings and she picks up. 

“It’s not like you to call—“ 

“I need your help,” he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way — “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” 

Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, “Slow down, Suguru, tell me what’s going on,” and he tells her his symptoms — and she’s silent on the other line for a moment, “you have been a teenage boy before right? You’re not really calling me because you’re horny and you don’t know what to do—“ 

“It’s not that—“ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, “I already tried…solving the problem myself but it didn’t work. And I feel weird — it only made it worse. I can’t stop sweating or thinking about—“ he cuts off — he couldn’t stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how you’d look when he— “what is this, Shoko?” 

She pauses on the line for a moment, “When did it start?” 

“Right before my shower I think,” his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought. 

“And what did you do before your shower? Anything different?” he’s swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on. 

He’s barely hearing Shoko at this point — “I took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then I—“ and the realization struck him — the curse, “I consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,” he mutters, “fuck—“ 

And then there’s a knock at the door, “Suguru?” He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice. 

Shoko’s voice cuts through the white noise, “Suguru, the curse you ate — was there something different about it?” 

“It was a grade one — it seemed a little too easy to defeat — it formed in—“ he swallows thickly, “in a brothel,” 

“I’ve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,” she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, “you could try extracting the curse from your body — I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass — just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,” 

His phone buzzed with texts from you: 

You: I’m outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me! 

You: are you home? 

His mind swam, it wasn’t the takeout he was craving — it was you. But no, no — he couldn’t. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it. 

“I don’t know, how do I get it to pass?” he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice — why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet — his boxers grow even tighter — bet you even taste even sweeter. 

“If dealing with it yourself didn’t work, then,” she sighs, “you’re going to need a partner,” 

Another knock. 

“Shoko, I have to go,” and he hangs up before she can get another word — a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight. 

“Suguru?” you’re so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, “are you okay?” 

He says your name, “You should go home, I’m not feeling well—“ 

“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” And he’s biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, “let me in,” 

“I can’t—I can’t let you help with this,” he’s shaking his head, “please, sweetheart, you have to go—“ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door — fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe. 

Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers. 

“Suguru—“ 

“You should leave — I can’t explain, there’s a curse inside me—“ 

Your eyebrows knit together, “Suguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?” And he’s shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, “let me help—“ 

“You can’t help. I have to get out of my system but the only way is—“ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you. 

“There must be something—“ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes off— “I want to help—“ 

He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear — fuck. 

He was so fucked. 

He can’t hold back, as he’s drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more — but he forced every muscle in his body to stop.  He couldn’t. Not until you agreed. 

“If you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “I want you — regardless of this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, “but if you don’t feel the same—“ 

But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, “who said I didn’t?” 

And he can’t hold back. 

His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt. 

And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then — and his mind hadn’t even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you — the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips. 

“So pliant for me,” he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, “such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?” 

And you’re nodding wordlessly — lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips — and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse. 

“Know how long I wanted to do this?” words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck — he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter — “how many times I thought about this?” He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, “wanted to mark you up so many times — when that fucker tried to hit on you — I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,” and he’s sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork. 

You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, “Sugu, please, more,” and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body. 

“Need my touch that much, Princess? Should’ve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that you’re mine,”  And he’s walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides. 

Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first — been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you — but he only had one time to do it right the first time. 

He’s walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off — and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath. 

“Were you always coming to my place with no bra on?” his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, “wanted this as long as I did, Princess? Don’t get so shy now — you’re the one who insisted on helping me, so aren’t you going to fulfill your promise?” His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly. 

You shiver, biting your lip, before you’re tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, “Then let me help you,”

When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, he’s ready to cum right there — he’s so sensitive still, he’s sure he won’t last long, but fuck, he doesn’t care with how pretty you look between his legs. 

“Don’t be a tease, Princess, or I’ll pay you back later,” but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.

“Oh I expect you to,” and you’re pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, “fuck, Sugu,” you murmur in almost reverence — he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, “how am I gonna fit you all in me?” 

And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, “Please,” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, “fuck—“ as you blow air along his length, “I’ll cum all over your face at this rate,” 

“Oh I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sugu?” your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, “paint my face with your cum,” 

And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in — that’s all it takes. 

The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt. 

Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, “Taste so good, Sugu — gotta have you one more time—“ you envelop him with your lips again — and he’s a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever can’t fit in your mouth. 

“S’good baby, should’ve fucked this mouth a long time ago,” and he’s gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you don’t resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, “good fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,” and god, he’s so close — twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts. 

Fuck, he’s pulling out, “can I—“ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again — his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again. 

And he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them. 

In an instant, he’s got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, “where’s that attitude now, pretty?” And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, “seems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,” 

He’s slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, “for later use,” and you can’t managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, “mine, all mine,” he’s already hard again — the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin — the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you — god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldn’t seem to care. 

You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, “So fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?” he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, “patience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” his dick twitching at his next sentence, “because I sink my cock in here, we’re not stopping at one round,” 

Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds. 

“Sugu, fuck,” his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan. 

“Fucking, the best thing I’ve tasted,” and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, “so perfect f’me,” and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches. 

He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, you’re too fucking pretty — your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes — pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him. 

Fuck, he knows he won’t last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and he’s sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock — but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now. 

No, he needed to make this good for you — he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch — you liked it. 

Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower — as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides — the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows he’s addicted — to the feeling of your molasses insides — warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart. 

“Sugu, please, please ‘m close—,” and he knows you need a little more, and he’s obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and he’s fucking you in earnest now — lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers — walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do. 

As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit — that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers. 

Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing he’d crave now after consuming curses — he wondered if you’d let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate — he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would. 

He’s giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but you’re pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure. 

“Want you, Sugu, please,” and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, “Sugu—” 

“Won’t last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,” the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, “but I know it won’t be long until I’m fucking you again anyway,” Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, “feels like you’re already trying to swallow me up, princess — you want this cock that bad?” fuck, he can’t hold back anymore, as he’s lining up himself up, and he’s sliding right into you with a groan, “know how long been waiting to do that?” his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, “wanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right — when nothing about this was right,” he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, “wish our first time wasn’t like this — but I’m so glad it’s finally happened, sweetheart,” 

And you can’t help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, “Me too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed you—” and he’s kissing your tears and words away with his lips, 

Then he begins to fuck you — hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him — warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock — the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need — he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside — he just needed you. 

“S’big, Sugu, too big,” you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips — sucking and licking, as he couldn’t have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, “feels too good,” 

“I know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good — make sure its made just for me,” he’s murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, “all mine, baby, fuck — such a good girl for me,” and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him you’re all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, “cum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,” 

And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again — fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. He’s fucking close too — can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, “where—” 

You’re still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, “Inside, Sugu, fill me up,” and that’s it, he’s gone — spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you — deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And you’re twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt. 

But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguru’s hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, “Suguru—” 

“Wasn’t enough, need more,” he’s shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, “thought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel it—” and he’s groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, “baby—” 

And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, “I told I’d help you,” and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, “just because we fucked, doesn’t mean we’re done,” 

And in a moment, he’s got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, “Then I guess we’re gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if you’re okay with this — I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just a blowjob,” his tip drags against your messy cunt, “gonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,” and he’s sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, “better cancel any plans you have, pretty — because we’re not leaving this bed for a while.” 

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby,” his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, “almost gonna cum, and don’t want you to be asleep for it,” 

How many times had you fucked? You had lost count — but you knew you had done it in far too many positions — on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others — and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you. 

He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible — and you supposed it wasn’t — it was only the curse that enabled this — it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water. 

“Good girl,” he’s grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, “I’m close baby, are you?” You hadn’t thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was — his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, “tell me you wanna cum,” and your pussy twitches at his order, “use your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?” 

“Please, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,” and you’re so fucking close again — the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment. 

“Fuck, greedy pussy hasn’t enough of me? We’ve been fucking until the daylight now,” as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and he’s making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick — your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, “fuck, s’good for me, baby — been so good — just need one more and we can stop,” and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of you— 

And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you. 

“Thank you, princess, thank you,” and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, “did so good for me,” and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little. 

You’re already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he can’t help but bite his lip,  “Sugu?” 

“Yes, princess?” And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, “know it was rough on you baby, I’ll make it up to you — don’t worry, just rest,” he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water. 

“I know you want to ask me something,” and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, “I can see the gears grinding in your head — you can ask me anything, y’know,” you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didn’t you? 

“I know, I just,” he swallowed, “was there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?” 

And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “Anything or anyone you mean?” and you chuckle when his eyes can’t meet yours, your fingers finding his again, “baby,” and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, “I did come back for someone — a very particular someone,” and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “and my friends, of course,” you add, “I love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,” 

“You did?” he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the other’s, “Sugu?” and it’s your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, “can we do this again?” you murmur, before adding, “not like this but—“ 

And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, “Yes, we can, if you want to — because I know I do, because,” his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “but I want all of you — want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soul—“ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that okay?” 

And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, “As long I have yours as well,” and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off. 

“If he’s fine, and I’m checking on him, I’m kicking his ass,” Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys. 

Shoko chewed her lip, she hadn’t heard from him in hours, “He was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,” Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers. 

“Yeah, on my way home back from a mission,” he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguru’s spare key into the lock and turning it, “If I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,” 

He twists the knob, and looks — he doesn’t see Suguru in the living room or kitchen — but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if she’s heard from you, to which she says no, 

He walks silently to Suguru’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies. 

Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera. 

“Never mind, Shoko, I owe you one,” and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, “I’ll treat you to lunch.” 

✧ a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing

✧ taglist: @peachyminx, @garfunklefield, @unicornqueen05, @hiyori-ii, @equikaz, @unoriginalidea, @forest-fruits-jam, @torusinfinity, @hellkaiserinphoenix, @loonimae, @gojoedd, @sugurufic, @glaceliy, @telvess, @kentocalls, @nayasch, @iluvvreze, @yamaguccitadashi, @faeismism, @hanxyy, @catsgomurp, @sukaibg, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @gojorgeous, @getos-slvtt, @sirencholia, @teatreeoilll, @dewdropdive, @appysauc, @kobycetacean, @missroki, @fushitoru, @pricetagofficial, @that-goth-bisexual, @shoyosdoll, @regrettinglifechoices, @mostinsanegirl, @roseybean, @fayyyrieee, @gojobbg, @strangehuman101, @saccharine-nectarine, @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home, @spider-fan72

[st4rstudent]

your poll results came in [shifts my glasses] ok well um. (shuffles notecards) i didnt think this far... my evil mind...uh erm MACTHINKER BLAST!! ...or something....sorrythis one is kind of cornball but its the only recent rendered one

more under cut

These all range from back in May until now (not posted in order). umm this is not all of them obviously and some pieces have been cropped because some of the doodles are generally very old or i just dont consider them public worthy as i justmake these for myself . (scurries away) . these also include actual drawings all the way to just mouse doodles

DONT look too hard at them or i explode and die and disappear ok? ok.

ignore the first drawing the one little comic above its not very accurate i drew it at like 2am. also a little ooc idk man down below theyre having one of those powerscaling debates in the first one

+ the doodle pages that ranges from may-june (with about 4 doodles removed because i found them too embarrassing or just objectively not good. doodle page 4 and 5 were combined. most removed doodles were from doodle page 4)

magnet bit i did with the brush testings that i had to redo because my friend said it "wasnt accurate" because the mics weren't touching

this one is implied

funfact did you know rabbits can 'purr' they do it by lightly tapping their teeth together.

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

in the refrigerator light

summary: you are somehow unprepared to run into Logan while on the quest for a midnight snack... in the house you both live in. wc: 1.9 k a/n: to be fair I did warn you that this would happen. I have a few more ideas kicking around in my head, but feel free to send requests if you have any! this doesn't take place during any particular movie, fyi, but you and Logan are both teaching at the school warnings: fluffy fluff, mutant!reader, empathic powers!reader, soft!Logan

You should have been asleep. Even after choosing to stay on at the school past your education, you’d had a hard time shaking habits of the past. It still felt strange to walk freely into professor only areas, and you were always in bed by 11:00 pm every night. Sneaking down to the kitchen to steal one of the chocolate bars you knew Scott had stashed deep in the back of a cabinet felt wrong, but the siren song was too strong to resist. 

You’d been quiet, making sure to avoid the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) before shuffling into the kitchen. You rubbed at your eyes as you made your way to the proper cabinet. The only problem being that it was much higher up than you remember. It was times like these that made you wish for a more helpful mutation, like telekinesis or at least a few extra inches of height. You struggled for a few moments, on your tippy toes, stretching your arm as far as you could reach before you gave up. You sighed, raking your hands through your hair and making your peace with the fact that chocolate was not in your future tonight. 

“Scoot over, bub.” You jumped and let out a small shriek, before clasping a hand over your mouth. It was rare that anyone got the drop on you these days, your power more finely tuned and emotions tending to be strong around the manor, but your guard was decidedly down in the place you’d called home for so many years. But Logan was an exception to many rules. HIs hand gently gripped your wrist, pulling you against his chest for a brief moment before moving to stand in front of the cabinet. He reached up into the cabinet, the zip up hoodie he wore pulling up to expose a few inches of his stomach before pulling down a few bars of chocolate with ease. He smiled, the crinkles by his eyes more prominent in the low light of the kitchen. You did your best to appear like you hadn’t just been ogling him. 

“How did you know-”

“Scott’s shit at secrets.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “You think he’d learn by now to not be such a loud mouth in a house full of people with enhanced hearing”. 

Your laugh was quiet, muffled by your hand in the interest of not waking the others. “Well, in that case, I hope one of those is for me.” 

Logan shrugged, eyes full of mirth. “What’ll you give me for it?” 

You blinked, unsure of yourself. You weren’t used to this Logan, yet. He was usually gruff and reserved, always reluctant to give into the kids in his history class that were trying to derail the lesson with a joke or two. He’d been playful a few times in your presence, and it almost always made you worried that the other shoe was about to drop. Seeing him in pajama pants and a soft grey sweatshirt only added to the strangeness situation. 

For the briefest moment, you considered using your powers. A single touch and you would know exactly how he was feeling. It was a blessing and a curse, to be able to be sure of how others were feeling with a single touch. A god-send on intel gathering or stealthy missions, a terrible temptation at midnight alone in the kitchen of the manor with the man you had harbored a crush on for as long as you’d known him. You make to grab one of the bars out of his hand, but he is too fast for you, quickly lifting them over his head. Your eyes narrowed. 

Fine, two can play at this game. You roll your shoulders back, drawing up your courage. “Depends what you want for it.” 

Logan grinned, dropping his arms and holding the bars behind his back. “Well, what I don’t want is to be an accomplice in your quest for cavities. Chuck’d have my head if he found out I had a part to play.”  

“I’m a big girl, Logan. I can take care of myself” You grab for the chocolate, but he’s too quick for you. For a brief moment, the two of you stare at each other, the moment charged. You lunged for the chocolate again, but Logan is already halfway across the kitchen, waving the chocolate around teasingly. 

“Logan, please” you laugh, following around the island. He cocked his head to the side, smirk playing at the corner of his lips. You were seconds away from stomping your foot and demanding he hand the chocolate over, when his smirk grew into a grin. 

“Alright bub,” he made his way around the island, depositing one of the chocolate bars in your hand. “You know I can’t say no to you.” 

You did your best to tamp down the butterflies that suddenly made a home in your stomach, but his smile was so gentle and he looked so soft, it was hard not to feel a little lovestruck. You snapped a piece of the bar off, and held it out to him. You dutifully busied yourself with breaking off a piece for yourself, ignoring the way that his affectionate gaze seemed to never leave you. 

“You’re not usually up this late,” he says, holding his hand out for another piece. You shrug, dropping another section into his hand. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Welcome to the club.” You knew that Logan had trouble sleeping, he was usually the first one hunched over a cup of coffee in the mornings, steadfastly ignoring inquiries into how he slept. 

“I, um” You hesitated. Usually offers of using your powers didn’t go well. You took a breath, steadying yourself. The worst he could say was no, right? “I could help with that, if you want.” 

Logan reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You could tell your eyes were the size of saucers, but you couldn’t find words. After a few moments, Logan took a step back, shaking his head slightly. You blinked owlishly, taking a breath to steady yourself. 

“That’s sweet of you, bub. But I wouldn’t want to tucker you out.” It was no secret around the house that although you had a less physical mutation, it still took some of your energy. Sensing emotions was as natural as breathing, but influencing them was newer, and took much more focus. 

You pointedly glanced at the clock over the stove, noting that it was well past any reasonable bedtime, before facing Logan once more. “That actually sounds really nice.” He mumbled something about not wanting to take advantage of you, but the words died in his throat when your hand found his own. You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping that he would be able to see how earnest you were being. “I don’t want to force you, but I want to be asleep more than anything, and I can tell that you are too wound up about something to even begin to fall asleep.” 

His thumb stroked over the back of your hand a few times, before he stepped around you and led you out of the kitchen. You expected him to turn towards the living room, where you’d caught him ‘resting his eyes’ a few times in the middle of the day. Instead, he turned right making sure to skip the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) and right up to the door of your room. 

“A bit presumptuous, no?” You asked, before opening the door and walking through. 

Logan rolled his eyes, leaning against your doorframe. “I was there the first time you tried this. Figured it was best that no one has to pick you up off the floor.” 

You felt your face grow hot, remembering the unmitigated disaster that had occurred the first time Charles suggested that this application of your powers was a possibility. Your chin tilted up, doing your best to project confidence. “Well, it’s been a while since then, I’ve gotten better.” 

If the lighting had been better, you would have seen the faintest pink blush coloring his cheeks. “Rogue’s in my room.” You couldn’t help it, your eyebrows shot up near your hairline. “She and Bobby got into a fight, she wanted somewhere she would be left alone.” His hands were twisting in the pockets of his sweatshirt as he ducked his head down low. 

“Is that why you were prowling around the kitchen?” He rolled his eyes, but nodded all the same. “Well, do you wanna stay here tonight?” He looked like he was about to object, but you held your hand up, effectively silencing him. “You’re doing a favor for Rogue, let me do one for you.” 

“Thought you were already doin’ me a favor, sweetheart.” He protested, all while moving towards your bed. 

You perched on the edge of your bed, consciously doing your best to keep your heart rate in check. The students always joked that between Charles and Jean’s mind reading and Logan being able to hear cheaters hearts speeding up, it wasn’t even worth it to try and cheat in class. It hadn’t occurred to you that if he could hear your heart fluttering, he could definitely hear the measured deep breaths you were taking to mitigate the issue. 

You reached for his hand, and he accepted it readily. His palm was shockingly smooth under yours, it must be from his regenerative powers. Your thumb gently ran across his knuckles, still slightly red from the training session he’d had with some of the students earlier in the day. You tugged on his arm slightly, and he lowered himself down onto the bed beside you. “I thought that it’s important to work as a team, sometimes.” 

“You spyin’ on me, bub?” You sheepishly meet his eyes, but find nothing but tenderness waiting for you. “I’ll try to forgive you.” He drops a kiss on your knuckles, before motioning for you to lay down. “I’ll take the floor.” 

You tightened your grip on his hand. If he really wanted to, he could have broken away easily. Instead, he paused, eyebrows raised and waiting for an explanation. “Not much of a favor if your back hurts in the morning from sleeping on the floor” you shrugged. 

“Only if you’re sure-”

“Just get in the damn bed Logan.” He grinned, pulling back the covers and slipping into the bed. You followed shortly after, and slipped your hand back into his. The both of you laid in silence for a few moments, adjusting to your new arrangement. You were nice and toasty warm, able to feel the heat radiating off him under the covers. You were in the middle of working up the courage to actually use your powers, when soft snores began to emanate from the other side of the bed. You chanced a glance towards him only to find his lashes gently fanned out over his cheeks, and his chest rising and falling with his steady breathing. 

After a few moments, you followed him into dreamland. In the morning, you woke up with his arm firmly around your waist, feeling fully rested for one of the first times in your life. Again, you waited for the awkwardness to come, for your face to flush and your stammer to pick back up, but you were left waiting.

feedback is very much appreciated, as I’ve never written for Logan before! let me know what you think <3

next part

[bweirdart]

nearly oc-tober time again - time for some prompts for 2024

F.A.Q

do i have to draw?

not at all! you are free to participate with any medium that suits you... writing, artwork, free bases and templates, simple text posts, in-character-as-your-oc roleplay, whatever! (just no stealing or AI)

do i have to make new content?

nope! re-uploading old stuff that fits the prompts is allowed (and encouraged) ... old art that didn't get the appreciation it needed always deserves a chance to be shared again, it's a fun throwback!

do i have to post every day?

nope! only 10 days are mandatory (the ones in red with a star symbol) and everything else (yellow) is 100% optional! if you're busy or tired, please skip as many as you want

can i start early?

you can prep your posts in advance if you need to ... but please wait until the right day in october to share them!

can i re-upload your prompt list to another site?

i would prefer if you dont - i have accounts on most sites, so just reblog/retweet/share from me!

event tag?

#bweirdOCtober

have fun!

image desc/text version ↓under the cut↓ or on bweird.art/october

prompts:

WEEK 1: OC INTRODUCTIONS

⭐ 1: FAV OC

what makes them your fav?

2: NEW OC

how recently did you make them?

3: OLD OC

how long ago did you make them?

⭐ 4: UNDER-APPRECIATED OC

an oc you feel like you don't talk about enough, or you haven't fleshed out as much as you would like

5: RE-DESIGNED OC

an oc who has changed a lot (what changed about them?) or, if you haven't redesigned an oc: is there anything you might want to change about an existing oc?

WEEK 2: BUILDING BACKSTORY

⭐ 6: PAST

where is your oc from? what did they look like as a child?

7: LIKES

what do they like (and why?)

8: DISLIKES

what don't they like (and why?)

⭐ 9: RELATIONSHIPS

doesn't have to be romantic! can any kind of relationship (frienship, family, rivalry etc)

10: PERSONALITY

what are your oc's main personality traits

11: SYMBOLISM/THEMES

what represents your oc? is there a specific colour you associate them with, or a specific animal?

12: FUTURE

what will your oc look like in the future? do they have any plans or goals?

WEEK 3: FUN + GAMES

⭐13: MEMES

do any memes remind you of your oc? are there memes your oc would find funny? maybe you want to redraw your oc as one?

14: WHO/WHAT INSPIRED YOUR OC

are there existing characters that your oc looks like? was your oc based on yourself? is your oc originally from a specific fandom?

15: MUSIC

share a character playlist, write a songfic, post lyrics that remind you of them, etc

⭐16: EYES CLOSED or NON DOMINANT HAND

draw a picture of your oc with your eyes closed or with your non domminant hand, write or type a paragraph about them without your eyes closed, etc ... have fun, and don't worry about it looking "bad" -it's meant to!!

17: DnD ALIGNMENT CHART

put all your ocs into a DnD alignment chart, or any other similar chart if you prefer

i've compiled a few templates on my site, but you can find more easily if you google "oc alignment chart"

⭐18: SWAP

swap something between your ocs - their role in the story, hairstyles, personalities, fashion taste, species ... whatever you want! how would this difference change them?

19: PALETTE CHALLENGES

draw your ocs with as many of these colour palettes as you want (or just skip if you don't draw/don't like doing these!)

hex codes for the colours:

palette 1 - #3C1E81 #6D1EA2 #B059E8 #FE0876 #FE5284 #FE7C96 #E0CFE3 #FFD5C3

palette 2 - #352823 #673F28 #AB541C #BA8233 #897128 #A68B2F #F7BF6A #DAC3A4

palette 3 - #A42E25 #D7412B #E47C29 #F7A233 #FCC02D #FCE4A6 #486548 #FEFDE8

palette 4 - #2F4769 #39597E #53779C #94D1E7 #AADDE7 #D48DB7 #D498B5 #D2BABA

WEEK 4: COMMUNITY

20-26: A WHOLE WEEK OF SOCIAL STUFF

if you don't have the time/energy to do every day this week, ⭐ day 23 is the only one marked as mandatory! you can skip the rest!

some ideas for what you could do: talk about a friend's oc you like, make gift art/writing of them, collabs, trades, reblog/appreciate ocs in the event tag, make interactions between your ocs and other people's

WEEK 5: HALLOWEEN

⭐27: FEARS

is your oc scared of anything? do they have any phobias? are they startled easily? would any of your ocs try to scare ppl on purpose?

28: MONSTER

what would your oc be if they were a monster (eg: werewolf, vampire, eldritch beast.. whatever) or, do you have an oc who is already a monster?

29: PUMPKIN CARVING

your ocs carving pumpkins, a drawing of a pumpkin carved to look like your oc ... or even carve it in real life!

30: GHOST

this can be literally a ghost, or a concept that haunts your oc! up to you!

⭐ 31: COSTUMES

what are your ocs wearing for halloween?