#also i have to go say some prayers LOOK AT HIM

[breadclubrising]

[glitchdollmemoria]

yknow the cool thing about having a ptsd induced bad dream is it gives me more motivation to go watch cozy movies and eat comfort food til i feel better

[theonlyadawong]

reading people reviews of home movie and either im a genius and im the only one in the world who understands this movie or im an idiot and everyone else understood the movie and i didnt

[redr0sewrites]

No Nut November Hcs With The Hashiras

the title says it all!! (i didnt include muichiro for obvious reasons)

🥀Cw: smut, dirty talk, praise, degradation, breeding kink (rengoku + sanemi), squirting (mitsuri)

🥀minors dni

🥀Pairing(s): Hashiras(minus muichiro) x reader (seperate)

Giyuu

when you first suggested the idea of NNN to giyuu, he was kinda confused

why would you participate in a competition not to have sex? did you just not want to have sex with him?

after some gentle reassurance and explanation however, he agrees surprisingly quickly

not only is giyuu ridiculously patient, he also has incredible self restraint

he would make it to the end of the month, but i definitely think he would have "almost" moments

when the month is over, hes begging you to fuck him

claims that hes waited so long, why should he have to do any work?

the minute it's december first hes waking you up, mewling and grinding on your thigh half-delirious as hes whining in your ear, begging you to take control

teasing him throughout the month will only make him more determined to last longer, if only to inflict the same suffering onto you

giyuu is very, very sensitive and you can use that to your advantage in a variety of ways

he gets really blushy when you tease him, and its only amplified during NNN considering he can't even get himself off

he also has a tough time ignoring it when he gets horny, he just feels like the type to be soooo sensitive and it's torture when he can't even jack off to relieve the painful ache in his pants

Giyuu pinned you down, his chest flush with your back as his cock rubbed against your hole. He was a panting mess, shaking above you as he pushed inside slowly. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, forcing you to look over your shoulder as he began to thrust into you steadily. Soft moans and whimpers filled the room, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping again skin. You could feel your orgasm building as a coil tightened in your stomach, and Giyuu let out a soft groan, signaling he was close as well. You clenched around him tightly, your release ripping through you as you clawed at the sheets. Above you, Giyuu tossed his head back and whispered your name like a prayer before cumming as well, filling your hole with his dripping seed. "Giyuu- ungh- wha-" you gasped, drool spilling from your lips as he sped up the pace. You had no time to catch your breath, and your hips jerked from overstimulation. "baby, i've waited a month, please?" Giyuu whispered in your ear, eyes blown wide with lust. You knew that you probably weren't going to be getting up anytime soon.

Tengen

im sorry but he is not making the month

he'd last two weeks at best

you and his wives would probably all team up against him, and this man is unable to restrain himself when it comes to you

quickest way to get tengen to fold? lingerie

just the sight of you in some flashy, lacy undergarments has him practically dragging you to bed

teasing him while wearing lingerie? hes gone.

"fuck the stupid month," he'd grumble, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your ass for good measure

tengen would be rougher than usual, hes pissed at you for teasing him after all

"hey!" you gasped, squirming in Tengens grip as he practically dragged you inside of the house. You and the other wives had been been training outside when all of a sudden Tengen had snatched you up, throwing you over his shoulder as the other wives followed behind you. Your husband ignored your indignated cries as he brought you to the bedroom and tossed you unceremoniously onto the mattress. Maki, Suma, and Hinatsuru joined you on the mattress, and you turned to look over your shoulder at Tengen. "giving up already?" you giggle, crawling over to the other wives at the head of the bed. Tengen Tengen smirked and slid up to you, pulling your undergarments off in seconds as your head rested in Hinatsuru's lap. Maki and Suma began to grind against eachother to your left as Tengen's breath fanned over your bare skin and thighs while Hinatsuru ran her fingers through your hair. The five of you were in for a long, long night~

Shinobu

Shinobu is definitely making it, no questions asked

she's patient enough to wait the month, however she will be pissed when you deny her

would totally try to get back at you, Shinobu would wear lingerie under her uniform and flash you when nobody was looking

she would run her hands up and down your thighs during hashira meetings, fingers ghosting so close to where you want her but not quite

she would enter a room and sit on your lap, kissing you senseless until your grinding up against her and then walk away like nothing happened

she's teasing YOU

i don't think theres any way to get her to give in, but at 12:01 on December 1st your waking up to her head between your legs

she would make you work for every orgasm, edging you until your sobbing

"you made me wait for so long, shouldn't i make you wait a little too?"

Shinobu smirked, gently swiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. She placed a finger on your tongue so you could taste the salty drops, and you let out another needy sob. "Are you getting desperate already, little butterfly?" She cooed, thrusting her fingers deeper inside of you. Another mewl escaped your lips as she fucked you dumb on her fingers, stretching you open and prodding the place inside you that made you see stars. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening, and you whimpered. "Pl-please Nobu, 'm gonna cum, please lemme cum-mgh-" Shinobu smirked at you, smacking your core lightly as you squirmed beneath her. She leaned down to whisper in your ear, caressing your sides slowly. "Shh, c'mon doll, I know you can take it. You made me wait a month to ruin you, didn't you? You can handle waiting a little longer to come~" Your body quaked at her words, soft sobs and pleads filling the air as you begged her to let you cum this time. Shinobu only shook her head, smirking and removing her hand as your orgasm begins to fade.

i went off there for a sec omg

Rengoku

i think he would make it without too much trouble

i really don't think his sex drive is super high, and hes pretty patient as it is

so yea i def think he'd make it

unleeeesssss you teased him

listen, Rengoku LOOOOVES to please you

if you bat your lashes and play your cards right, he'll fold you in half and fuck you senseless less than a week into november

it would be the roughest, sloppiest sex yall ever have bc once Rengoku is done, hes done

He'll fuck you every day of the damn month just because he wants to, and be prepared bc this man has STAMINA

normally rengoku focuses solely on your pleasure, hes def the service dom type, hoowwweeeeverr, depending on how much you teased him, hes gonna be sm rougher

i also think rengoku would last the entire month just to irritate you because, lets face it, hes much more patient than you

just imagine begging him to fuck you at the end of the month, pleading with him to pay attention to you after he's deprived you of pleasure for so long... how could he say no to you?

the sound of skin slapping against skin and muffled groans filled the room as Rengoku pressed you down into the mattress. Rengoku leaned down, close enough to whisper in your ear, "fuck baby, can i- can i lift your legs up higher?" you nod, head foggy as he tossed your legs over his shoulder. Rengoku adjusted for a second, folding you over and beginning to thrust slowly. Your hips rocked against his as you clawed at the mattress, the new position allowing him to go so much deeper than before. "mhm baby, just like that. gonna make you feel so good after you waited so long, gonna fill you up so nice.."

Mitsuri

i think Mitsuri would last ab a week before crumbling

She'd be so embarrassed about it, all blushy and shy

you haaave to tease her ab quitting so early, you'll get the most delectable whimpers from her<3

Mitsuri folds from MINIMAL teasing its almost like she wants to lose

once she gives in tho, please pamper her. teasing is okay but PRAISE HER‼️

shes a pillow princess at heart and will def want u to take care of her after u made her wait for sooo long

MITSURI IS SO SENSITIVE, AND ITS DEFINITELY AMPLIFIED AFTER SHE HELD BACK FOR SO LONG

she cries sm more easily during sex after being teased for so long, and it's impossible to NOT overstimulate her (she loves it)

tease her and praise her, overstimulate her and watch as she falls apart~

fat tears streamed down Mitsuri's pink cheeks as you pumped your fingers in and out of her slick heat, mesmerized by the sloppy sound it made. her legs trembled and her lip quivered as she sobbed from the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure, and you leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. "d'worry baby, im gonna make you feel all better," you coo, smiling as she whimpers. your fingers are coated in her slick, and her hips grind down onto your fingers with every thrust. "need you.." she whispers, reaching out to pull you closer. "kiss..?" she whimpers, large, teary eyes staring into yours. You chuckle, unable to deny her. "Of course~ how could i forget?" you kiss her slowly and sensually, running your tongue along her bottom lip and gently grabbing her jaw as you pushed your tongue inside her mouth. Mitsuri whined at the feeling, clenching ariund your fingers as her tongue collided against yours. her chest heaved, perky breasts bobbing as the coil in her stomach tightened. you could tell she was close, and moved the hand holding her face to massage one of her breasts as you deepened the kiss. your fingers curled inside her, pressing against her g spot as your thumb circled her clit. instantly, Mitsuri squealed, gushing around you and squirting onto your hand as she writhed in pleasure. "t-too much!!" she gasped, pulling away from the kiss as a thin trail of spit lingered between your mouths. "was that worth the wait baby?" Mitsuri blushes, nodding profusely.

Obanai

i genuinely think obanai would last like

a week at most

im sorry but this man worships your every move, and theres NO way he can deny you anything

you tease him once and hes already bending you over, fucking you senseless as he bites harshly into your neck

or hes whining, dragging you on top of him and begging you to fuck him just right, ride him until hes a sweaty, needy mess

sex with Obanai after NNN would definitely be much rougher, he just cant hold himself back

he NEEDS to ravish you

you gasp as Obanai's cock sinks into you, his thick length filling you up as he spreads your legs. one hand rests on your inner thigh, the other entwining your hands together as he presses hasty kisses to your collarbone. your back arches off of the bed as he bites down hard on the sensitive skin, a dark hickey left in its wake. Obanai travels upwards, his teeth grazing your neck and shoulders as he kisses and nips at the exposed skin. his warm breathe flushes against your beck as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by your moans and whines. Obanai pants, his hand moving from your thigh to fondle at your chest. "can't believe you made me wait this long, bunny.." he murmured softly in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. "fuck, i missed this pretty hole..."

Sanemi

he likes to think could make it the whole month but "doesn't care about a stupid ass challenge"

he cant make it the whole month hes too whipped for you

i think he would either last like. 15 minutes or two weeks theres no in between

Sanemi would either fuck you out of spite immediately after november starts or genuinely try but give up pretty early on and make up some bs excuse ab how he "doesnt even care"

either way, hes not making it 💀

prepare yourself, cuz the sex is gonna be ROUGH

Sanemi totally has a breeding kink, and the thought of NNN definitely ignites a feral need to fill you up- not a drop of his cum is wasted, hes bringing you to at LEAST 4 orgasms, and hes coming at least twice as well. hes also gonna finger fuck his cum back inside you, maybe he'll use a plug too just for the satisfaction of knowing that your filled up to the brim with him...

congrats!! u have a feral boyfriend

"s' too much!" you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as Sanemi fucked into you harshly from behind. his hips snapped against yours as you whimpered, face down in the sheets. Sanemi gave a swift slap to your ass and you sobbed, mewling as he fucked into your weeping hole even harder. "oh yea? shoulda thought of that before tellin' me about this stupid challenge," Sanemi hissed, thrusting deeper into your cervix as you keened. "im- m' close-" you hiccuped, warm, wet tears slid down your face as he looked into your glossy eyes. "oh yea? i thought it was t' much, doll- fuck-" he gasped as you tightened around him, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass was amplified even more as you came with a squeal. you came hard, coating Sanemi's cock and the bed below in your juices as your eyes rolled back into your head. "fuuugnck- doll your so tight- im coming too, don't waste a fucking drop of this- its what you get for makin' me wait.."

Gyomei

i think Gyomei would make it

honestly i dont think he has a super high sex drive, and as much as he wants to please you, i think he would make it through the month with ease

hell at the end of the month hes praising YOU for lasting so long eithout him (in a genuine way, not in a condescending way ofc <33)

hes pretty chill when it comes to sex, but after NNN Gyomei might be a little rougher

he has STAMINA tho

prepare to be overstimulated bc he is MAKING SURE you are blissed outt af by the end

if your not a whiny mess in subspace then Gyomei's not having it

hes praising you for lasting so long, making you feel so good while bringing you to climax after climax for HOURS

he miiiiight fold if u bEG him but its a small possibility.

Gyomei held you in his lap as you squirmed, fucking yourself on his cock as you buried your face into his neck. "mnghh- forget how big you were.." you whine, grinding your hips sensually against his. Gyomei chuckles, brushing the hair off of your forehead and kissing you gently. "do you remember how many times you've come, little one?" your brow furrowed, your head felt foggy as you tried to remember. one of his hands squeezed your thigh reassuringly, and you whimpered, eyes rolling back slightly as you tightened around his cock. Gyomei hummed, taking in your overstimulated state as he brought you closer to release. "im so proud of you little light, you lasted the entire month," he cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back as the coil in your stomach tightened. "let me reward you, my precious dove~"

RAHAHAHAHAHAHA ITS DONE ITS DONE ITS FINALLY DONE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HOLY FUCK HOLY SHIT ITS DONE KTS DONE ITS DONE I LOVE LIFE HALLELUJAH AJSHSAJHAJAAAJAA ITS JANUARYYYYY LMFAO

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.

For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door. 

And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again. 

“That’s it.”

Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room. 

Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for. 

Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you. 

“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.” 

Nothing. 

With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer. 

“Logan.”

Finally, he groaned. “What?” 

His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand. 

“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“Nothing.”

“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.

“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”

You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over. 

“Too much information.”

You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”

Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts. 

Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside. 

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking. 

However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled. 

He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie. 

By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were. 

But he was asleep. 

Right beside you. 

Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her. 

Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his. 

“Storm- what are you- Oh.”

Jean looked inside. 

“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”

“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”

You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment. 

You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him. 

It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan. 

For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm. 

Serene. 

Rested. 

Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you. 

Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back. 

“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning. 

“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face. 

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

Then a cough came from the door. 

Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”

Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”

You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”

Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed. 

“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away. 

“Sure.”

Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed. 

“They’re got a point.”

“About us being a couple?”

You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”

Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more. 

Jean and Storm were right. 

From the picture…they did look like a couple. 

A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring. 

All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands. 

And for you, that meant finally reading. 

Until you sensed someone stood behind you. 

“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”

Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you. 

“Logan! Give it back.”

“I want to see what it’s about.”

You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”

“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”

“Like the romantic kind.”

Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”

You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not. 

“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”

“I believe in romance.” 

“Yeah, right.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”

“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”

Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?”

“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”

You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”

Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud. 

“People really talk like this?”

You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”

Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud. 

It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck. 

“Keep reading.”

“I thought you were asleep.” 

“Now I’m awake.” 

“Fine, just be quiet.”

You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”

Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading. 

And ten minutes later, you were asleep. 

And so was he. 

An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby. 

“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”

“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”

Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him. 

“What is it?” Then she gasped. 

“Believe me now?”

And what Rouge saw made her smile. 

On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire. 

“Come on, let's leave them.”

“But-”

“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”

Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her. 

The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October. 

Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying. 

Save for two. 

Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook. 

“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”

“You should have more faith in him.”

“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”

And she couldn’t. Because she was. 

Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg. 

There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help. 

And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies. 

“Bub,”

Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back. 

You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect. 

“Dance with me?”

“What?”

Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards. 

“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”

“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”

Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”

And you both were. 

Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen. 

“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”

“Logan.”

“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”

“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”

“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”

“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”

Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest. 

For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…

Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect. 

He dipped you. 

You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh. 

Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin. 

And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen. 

And dipping you. 

When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you. 

Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background. 

“Logan…”

Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say. 

Had his eyes always had so much green in them? 

Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter. 

Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more. 

So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?

Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door. 

A sneeze. 

A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality. 

Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam. 

Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”

Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed. 

Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him. 

“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking. 

“You did ambush me.”

“I didn’t ambush you.”

“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”

You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.” 

You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”

Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own. 

“That big of an ambush.”

You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa. 

“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”

You did so. 

“I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa. 

Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him. 

An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both. 

She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two. 

And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long. 

Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened. 

Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas. 

Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them. 

But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different. 

“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”

Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”

“So?” 

Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe. 

“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”

“Hey, no.”

“Hey, yes.”

“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”

Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”

“Technically, it’s a month.”

“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”

You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”

Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”

“Great from where I’m standing.”

You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking. 

Not at the garland, but at your ass. 

You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down. 

“I meant the garland.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”

You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”

With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”

“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”

“I get to watch you put up five more.”

You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”

Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up. 

You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away. 

Then Logan gave you a real kiss. 

A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”

He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”

“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”

Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway. 

It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms. 

And the others had been watching you and Logan all day. 

The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe. 

“Wait, no. Not there.”

“Where then?”

Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”

Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”

Storm shook her head. “Here.”

She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt. 

Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree. 

At least this way, those looking for it, would find it. 

"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”

There was no one else apart from Logan.

Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take. 

Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you. 

Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others. 

“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces. 

“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing. 

“That was some kiss.”

You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan. 

He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people. 

“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”

You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip. 

You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”

“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”

You looked back to the others. “Six months.”

A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”

All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile. 

“I knew it!”

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Cregan Stark x Targ!wife

Summary: Just Cregan Stark and his beautiful wife with their children

Cregan Stark just loves you and your kids with all his heart and soul. He would die for you all. He would kill for you all. And the same thing could be said about you. You won't hesitate to rain fire on anymore who threatens your family.

Imagine your twin boys running around Winterfell. Both are mini versions of Cregan Stark, but there is fire in their blood as well which they got from you.

Imagine the little twins with wooden swords playing and pretending to be their brave father. Both bravely challenging your loyal guard and your guard just happily loses to them.

Imagine Cregan trying to tell them bedtime stories but he is not really good at it, or at least he is not as good as you. But he tries. If it doesn't work he will bring the boys to you. Imagine the twins sleeping in between you and Cregan while you tell them the story. The plan was for Cregan to carry the boys to their room after they fell asleep, but Cregan himself couldn't keep his eyes open. Once they are asleep you just kiss their forehead and sleep on your side.

Cregan always jokes that the boys are completely like him and are full Starks (although he was secretly hoping one of them would look like you).

Imagine Cregan teaching the boys about the North. Telling them about their history. They are very interested to know everything. They especially love when their father trains them to fight.

But then their lessons on high valyrian started and you also started teaching them how to bond and handle their dragons, which became their favorite lessons. The boys would rather bond with their dragons than study. Cregan has to personally go to the dragon cave and drag them away.

Imagine your twins standing with their father and looking up at the sky as you ride your dragon. Their dragons are not large enough to carry the rider but they are growing fast.

Cregan can be a strict father sometimes. It's necessary since it's his duty as the Lord of Winterfell to teach his sons and heir everything.

Imagine Cregan taking the twins to the wall. The boys are young but they are Stark. They need to know the importance of the wall and understand their duty. The trip was not easy for Cregan since your twins can be a handful, especially since you didn't go with them. One of them even tried to sneak out beyond the wall, but a ranger caught him.

"I didn't know raising sons can be so exhausting," The first thing Cregan said to you as soon as he got back. The boys just can't stop telling you about the wall, excitedly describing every single detail about it. "This one tried to sneak out and go beyond the wall," Cregan pointed at his son. "YOU DID WHAT?" Needless to say he was kind of grounded till he realized how dangerous it was. It was necessary. And now he is even more curious about what lies beyond the wall.

Imagine you get pregnant again. The twins just can't wait to have another sibling. Cregan is just praying that this one is a girl. And his prayers were answered. Your third child is a girl, a mini you, with the silver hair and purple eyes.

Cregan thought his daughter would be calmer than his sons, but he was wrong. She is a little warrior with big dreams of leading armies and winning battles.

The twins just adore their little sister and are extremely protective of her. Everyone in Winterfell loves her. And somehow Cregan is better with raising his daughter.

Imagine the entire family at feasts. The little ones busy with some shenanigans, Cregan trying to make them stop.

Or imagine the twins flying their dragons for the first time. Cregan is more nervous than them. He just doesn't want his sons to fall and get hurt. You constantly comforting him. And he was extremely terrified when your daughter first rode her dragon.

Just imagine a relaxing family time. All of you in one room. Your daughter telling Cregan how she will be a warrior when she grows up. The twins discussing about taking the dragons hunting, because they just can't compete with their father on horses and normal hunting. You sitting next to Cregan, leaning against him and just enjoying

[godjo]

✮ — altar girl.

hasn’t it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire?

tags — true form!sukuna x concubine/f!reader. 3k wc. explicit smut. dubcon at first (trust me in this one pls). exhibitionism. thigh riding. doggy style. manhandling. rough sex. womb fucking. humongous cock!sukuna (hello???). multiple orgasms. mindbreak. drool. cunnilingus bordering on tongue-fucking. orgasm denial once. he carries you. creampie. lots of cum. fuckton of religious symbolism. physical violence against the reader but not from sukuna. sukuna calls you brat like one time. minors, ageless, and blank blogs dni.

from hunter — not to be dramatic or whatever but i do feel like this fic took a huge chunk off of my sanity … the things i do for sukuna omg … if this flops i will officially retire from tumblr /j + also it's 3 am for me so i didn't proofread the last bits and i prolly got lazy ... ha ha ... ✮

gods exist. 

the annals of history tell us so.

they exist in a way that no mortal can comprehend, for a god is more than a face. they leave their imprints not with their feet but with the rise and fall of dynasties, the ruination of empires, and the death of kings. they materialize as the birth of a deluge and they rise as the reason for war. it is not the body that proves their existence but the carnage they leave behind. 

they have manifested before human eyes through myriad guises, and once again incarnated in the flesh of ryomen sukuna. 

many have met their untimely demise at his hands; he walks the earth with their tormented souls at his feet. from village to village, their numbers increased until a procession of weeping thickened behind him. hundreds of graves mark the land since his advent, and yet the heavens remain deaf to the hysterical prayers for justice. only he can hear the prayers; only he laughs at them. 

they say he is a devil. you say he is a god. because only a god can saturate the earth with blood and emerge unpunished from such transgression. hasn’t it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire? 

ryomen sukuna, in a form of some twisted mockery, decides to act the part. and so like every famished god, he demands a sacrifice to satisfy his voracious appetite. you would think that a house of gold would placate his hunger for blood, but riches mean nothing to him. his appetite needs flesh and it is flesh he got. 

“have i been too lenient that you’d dare fight amongst yourselves when i’m not around?” his voice reverberates inside the room. low, guttural, and pregnant with malice. it is enough to scorch everyone’s lungs with tension. 

you want to run away from this nightmare. go back to the peaceful bliss of mundanity when sukuna is only a piece of horrifying tale used to frighten children and not an absolute being seated cross-legged mere inches away. you try transporting your mind back to the days before his pillaging, before your village succumbed to his authority. yet his pervasive presence obstructs all your pathetic attempts at nostalgia. 

“look at what you did to the poor girl.” two of his four hands sweep you from your position to his lap, parading you to the rest of tearful eyes looking at him with entreaty. 

and it stings— their eyes. you’re in the claw of a savage hound from hell, ready to be devoured, with only your hadajuban as protection. even in this pitiful state, they offer no sympathy. their tears are for themselves alone despite their cruelty being the reason for your shared plight.

selfish bitches. 

“was it jealousy that caused this infighting? have i not divided my attention to all of you equally?” sukuna continuously taunts, lacing his voice with poisonous prudence. he fools no one and that’s what urges him forward. everyone knows that his seemingly laidback attitude is plain derision. nonetheless, he tastes the lingering hope in each of your faces before dragging his teeth along such pathetic daydreams.

“y… you have, my lord,” one of the women answers, her voice betraying a noticeable stutter. “if you would permit me to speak, i can offer his lordship an explanation for what transpired in the courtyard.”

sukuna emits a languid sigh as he rests his cheek upon his fist. he runs a rough hand down your arm, triggering vibration in the pit of your stomach. his hand is as huge as your face, his fingers long enough to snap your neck with ease. despite the surge of terror, you fight the urge to retch.

after a moment of battling your dread, it’s repulsion that filled you afterwards. repulsion rising from the woman’s explanation for your wretched state. the rest of the women nod their heads along with her account of how you tripped on a slippery stone multiple times, causing your current injuries, as if you’re a toddler who cannot orient her legs properly. 

they will save themselves with falsehood. 

sukuna yawns after the woman’s narration. his set of eyes seeking you after in the silence. 

“this matter is of your stupidity, then? you’ve wasted my time, brat.” he dips his cadence in amusement and disgust. 

anger flares within you, filling your nose and ears with the bitter scent of hatred, yet its heat descended down your throat, dampening your ability to defend yourself. what is one against many? there are twenty concubines in this room and nineteen of them just sold you to your demise for unintentionally raising this trifle to the lord of the land.

all of this— all of this merely because they have immersed themselves in playing a game in which you’ve been excluded since your arrival. after all, you’re just another competition for sukuna’s attention. 

“have mercy, my lord,” you whisper, on the verge of losing your sentience. “i… i mean no disrespect. it’s… it’s stupid of me—”

sukuna drawls, “speak no more of your nonsense. i have heard enough.” 

distressed apologies race past your mouth, along with entreaties that he spares your life. but you should’ve known that a god won’t turn his back on the sacrifice of blood. 

thus, when his enormous body finally moves to encase your fragility, you close your eyes and with jittering teeth have accepted your fate. you wait for the final release of death, a snap or his fist through your heart, but none came. instead, at your feet lay your torn garments, casting your nakedness before the other concubines in a humiliating display. the crisp air blows against your nipples, causing them to pucker tight. the same air turns your blood gelid, your bones immovable. 

“now, let’s see what all the fuss is about.” from behind, sukuna gropes your breasts, swirling the tips of your nipples with his fingers. “i’ll kill anyone who looks away.” the warning is vehement, ripe with threat, that even mere insects won’t dare defy it. 

is this the ultimate act of worship? to be stripped of all your layers? to be eaten?

his lips latch onto the bareness of your neck, sharp teeth dragging across the skin. the silence is thick, saved for the sound of your uneven breathing and the rustling of fabric as the concubines shift uncomfortably on their seats. sukuna’s wet and unusually long tongue starts licking the base of your shoulder to the back of your ear, before placing his thick and robust thigh between your quivering legs. 

your exposed cunt sticks to his skin, pussy folds flapping open. with practiced ease, as if manipulating the strings of a marionette, he subtly guided your movements. he has your pulsing clit riding the ridges of his thigh as if gushing all over will save you from inevitable demise. 

“m… mhm!” no longer entirely in control of your own form, you turn and sway in a helpless dance to his hands’ command. a gasp tinged with surprise and undeniable pleasure, escapes your lips and echoes softly in the confines of the room. you feel the searing heat of the concubines’ gazes drilling into you, a tangible weight of disapproval and something more primal — a flicker of envious fascination.

“for a condemned woman, aren’t you loving this too much?” sukuna takes the reins to your body. with speed that has your heavy tits bouncing, he secures your waist and drags your slick pussy faster and more recklessly. 

pleasure, sharp and electric at first, surges through your core, blossoming outwards like a firework. your cunt clenches and unclenches involuntarily, a delicious tremor wracking your body. the world narrows, sound and sight fading at the edges as every nerve ending sings with a single, glorious purpose. slowly, the intensity ebbs to leave a pleasant afterglow that paints your limbs with a newfound weight.

you’re but a tiny speck compared to sukuna’s imposing body; a feeble creature under the jurisdiction of a god. 

possessive hands have found you in your fleeting refuge, scooping your lower body up like you weigh nothing. with the tip of his finger he traces the curve of your spine, pressing enough weight to flatten your stomach against the tatami mat. 

“even your back is filled with lacerations,” he points out brusquely.

sukuna’s hefty cock drops to the base of your spine, its puffed up cocktip lazily pulsing to leak his thick liquids of pre-ejaculate. it must’ve been a whole arm laying heavy against your spine, warm with a gluttonous desire to ram itself through the sloppy confines of your pussy. 

and you lay there, waiting for his teeth and his claws and his animalistic hunger to devour. he presses his chest to your back, filling your ears with promises that he’s going to feed on you, eat you down to the marrow of your bones— and you’ll love it. 

“look at them,” sukuna hisses as he tugs at your forehead, “i want you to look at them while i fuck you.”

with your flesh you’ve received him like some kind of communion from root to tip. he hammers your cunt with his cock, until the heat of his savage lust reaches the pit of your belly. you feel his warmth soiling your cervix and uterus with every vigorous thrust. 

“oh! m… mhm!”  completely overtaken by sukuna, your thighs can only twitch as he destroys your insides. 

“you’re soaking wet,” he groans in your ear, deliberately adjusting his pace so he can coat his thick girth all over with your creamy hole, “and so fucking tight.” 

sukuna grunts like a wounded animal each time his cocktip kisses the smooth spot of your womb. a sheen of sweat glazes his body, tattoos aglow in the lanterns, from manically fucking your cunt. he bares his fangs whenever you tighten around his shaft enfolded with prominent and proud veins. 

the once vibrant forms of the concubines, their faces alight with prurient interest, dissolve into a sea of indistinct shapes as fog descends upon your sight. you’ve been reduced to a babbling and drooling mess, unable to grasp the reality that you’re being mounted and fucked to madness before several witnesses.

sukuna extends his hand, searching for your abandoned clit during his primal need to turn your pussy to pulp. 

“there it is,” he breathes against your clammy cheek, satisfied at his discovery. 

“n… no! not there…!” you pant as the last thread of reason frays and snaps. 

a tempestuous force of pleasure sweeps through you, leaving behind a tremor that has shaken you to the core. around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations spins until a guttural moan runs from your lips, delivered by the exquisite torment of rapture. your nails scrape desperately across the tatami mat, clinging at the remnants of spilled sanity. 

sukuna cackles at your desperation to find a moment’s reprieve. the roughened end of his fingers dip into your yielding flesh as he forcefully slams your pussy back to his cock.  

“you’re not going anywhere,” he pronounces frenziedly, his eyes blowing wide. sukuna’s desperation for release intensifies to the point where he’s blatantly manhandling you, brutalizing your cunt and his cock during the process of reaching zenith. flesh meets flesh, fervid thrusts after fervid thrusts, until he feels that familiar coil in his own stomach. 

sukuna plugs your abused cunt with inconceivable amounts of cum. his cock pulses wildly, shooting globules straight to your womb it’s almost physically possible to feel his viscous cum filling every crevice of your uterus. when he’s finally pulled out, ropy cum still links his raw cocktip to your pulsing pussy hole. despite such a mind-numbing culmination, sukuna’s cock refuses to yield. it springs up proudly, aching for another taste.  

“what a sight,” sukuna issues with cavernous and demonic utterance, pertaining to your body lying inert upon the tatami mat. he sweeps the sodden hair from his brow with a lordly air, his pride evident in the contemptuous curve of his lips. 

look at the state he’s reduced you to. his thick ejaculation pools around your lower body because your little pussy can’t hold all of him. with an indifferent shrug, sukuna lowers his formidable body to your level. and only when the malevolent glint in his eyes becomes apparent does the gravity of the situation dawn upon you.

he starts fucking your cunt with his tongue.

you grit your teeth in response as sukuna places your knees upon his shoulders, burying the slimy width of his tongue in your heated pussy. it’s no mere licking— he’s practically shoved his tongue up your gummy walls, toying with the warmth of his cum pooled in your poor cunt while simultaneously licking your puffed up clit. 

“o… oh! c… can’t— please, please!” drool seeps between your gritted cuspids after your hysterical plea.

pearlescent tears warm the corner of your eyes. your sensitivity from his rigorous fucking has not yet abated, but another swell of release approaches at a hand’s reach. down to your heart, the bundles of nerves and veins constrict painfully because it’s too much. you have nowhere else to put the pleasure— the imminent pinnacle will utterly ruin you.

i’m losing my mind

i’m losing my mind

i’m losing my mind—

when ecstasy is but a heartbeat away, sukuna withdraws, denying you the finality your body craves. as if saved from drowning, you suck in and grace your lungs with air only to be propelled back to the brink of delirium when he lifts you up from the floor like a breeze. 

with carnal ferocity, he seizes the meaty flesh of your haunches with two of his limbs, while the others secure your torso. there and there, sukuna slots his insatiable cock in your dribbling cunt; an act that he’s accomplished without effort because you’re so wet, he’s slid right in. 

everyone has witnessed sukuna’s cock abusing your tingling pussy; all can see how he bounces your tingling cunt along his stiff length without strain. 

“yes… squeeze my cock like the obedient girl you are,” he sibilates on your face, followed by a harsh chuckle. “you can’t hear me now, can you?”

the voice is a distant echo, barely perceptible to your waning senses. your body, devoid of strength, limps completely in sukuna’s embrace. he buries his face in the crooks of your damped neck, groaning and babbling as he ruts into your swollen pussy. 

“how come you’re still so fucking tight?”

hasn’t he prepared you for his sheer girth? hasn’t he stimulated your pussy enough to hug his cock smoothly and effortlessly? you’ve already coated his balls shiny with all the slick your cunt has produced, but sukuna’s chest tightens because you’re milking him with a viselike grip. 

yes, it is human that he’s even affected by this carnal desire. what more can he do? he feels faint with exultation merely by fucking you. 

sukuna pumps your pussy to the hilt with slow yet profound thrusts. he bares his teeth down the blade of your shoulder as the maelstrom of release engulfs him completely. battered by waves of ecstasy, he grunts with your flesh between his teeth, the rough sound reverberating deep from his belly.

you must’ve reached the peak with him— you absolutely cannot tell. the only thing that your puddled mind can grasp is the swirl of his potent cum in the pit of your womb and the endless pulse of your cunt as you struggle to accommodate his release. 

petrified and silent, the remaining concubines are as fixed in place as if struck by an immobilizing spell. yet they watch— they watch intently while sukuna’s cock throbs with white strings of cum dripping from your cunt hole down to his balls and thighs. a hefty amount pools beneath him, oozing from where the both of you are connected. 

the envy that consumed them is a silent, suffocating thing, a palpable presence thick enough to choke. this envy deepens as they witness the delicacy with which sukuna has placed your dormant body on his own tatami mat. they grit their teeth secretly, throwing every known curse your way. may your womb not bear the fruits of sukuna’s seed, they vehemently pray. 

for ryomen sukuna, it’s nothing but a moment’s weakness, a foreign string of unknown emotion that you’ve managed to evoke from him. and even though he’s beyond human grace, he’s wasted your body to his own satisfaction, it’s only right to touch you with his claws retracted.

“performance is over, my dearests,” sukuna announces while a smirk tugs at his lips. facing his concubines, he dons his fundoshi haphazardly that it barely covers what it means to hide. 

“w… what will become of her, my lord?” one dares to ask. 

a fleeting, imperious gaze from sukuna sweeps over you before ushering the women from the opulent chamber. “you shouldn’t worry yourselves about such trivial matters. she will meet her own reckoning by my hands.”

a wave of malicious satisfaction ripples through the group as they exchange covert nods. you’re already a dead woman. with poisonous glee, they bow before ryomen sukuna with their faces shaped in unbridled mirth. 

“make sure that my wives are accompanied home safely,” sukuna orders the nearest guards. he tastes their fear hanging heavy in the air just by being in his presence. oh, humans. 

as the group began to retreat, they cast over their shoulders a flurry of flirtatious farewells to the imposing sukuna. however, before they could vanish entirely from sight, his deep voice cut through their progress.

“guards, before i forgot…” sukuna displays a grotesque smile filled with malice. “kill them all. i want nineteen heads on my feet tomorrow.”

they say he is a devil. 

you say he is a god. 

and despite all the names, sukuna has found himself a place of worship, with you as his altar. 

[juleswritesstuff]

Starving

Basically, just Theo being the munch that he is.

theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: smut

Enjoy💗

You had always hated Herbology with a deep passion.

Not the plants per se, those were rather fascinating to observe, but did they really need to have such a vast variety of species ? Was it actually necessary ?

Apparently it was, or Mrs Sprout wouldn't have given you a whole 600 words essay to write on every type of mandrake known to man.

Those screaming little things got on your nerves, and you could barely understand what the professor was talking about while tending to them. Hence, you were finding it extremely difficult to complete that paper.

The door of your dorm room suddenly opened and you had to restrain a curse from slipping through gritted teeth.

You had really hoped to not get interrupted.

Apparently your prayers weren't heard.

“You busy, dolcezza ?” (sweetie)

A more than familiar voice reached your ears. You lifted your eyes from your paper and they landed on none other than Theodore Nott, who was standing right in front of your door, now closed again, with a faint smirk plastered on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. You knew that little grin all too well.

“Kind of, yeah” you replied, your attention going back to the paper in front of you as you started scribbling again with your quill “Aren't you ? Have you already finished your essay ?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Just turned it in, so I have some time to kill” he said with that cocky attitude of his.

Infuriating and charming at the same time, truly unfair.

“Good for you, then. I don't, so if you could leave me to it, it would be much appreciated” you said as a forced smile curved your lips.

“Oh, come on. You don't even have a little time ? Per me ?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side with the most innocent expression he could master. (For me ?)

Which didn't work because his eyes screamed trouble.

Theo looked like an angel with his brown hair curled in soft locks and eyes as blue as the ocean, although dead and emotionless looking.

Actually, he was the devil in disguise. Especially when he acted all coy like this.

“No Theo, I really don't have time for your little antics today” you said huffing.

‘His little antics’ being eating you out till tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara was smudged and unsalvageable. 

You and Theo were ‘friends’. You got along just fine, you talked, and you bickered like there was no tomorrow. It was part of your friendship, the teasing, the little harmless jokes. It was routine for the two of you.

What was also routine was the flirting. 

Shameless and obvious flirting.

You never thought it would lead anywhere. You were so used to the little Italian endearments he gave you and the ever present smirk on his lips that you didn't really think anything of it.

Until one night, after one of the biggest parties that Slytherin had ever thrown, you ended up in his bed, with him between your legs eating you out like his life depended on it.

You didn't even know how you found yourself in that situation, you just knew that you hadn't minded one bit.

You ended up with shaky legs and a dizzy brain just by his tongue alone.

Saying that you didn't mind it would've been an euphemism.

The day after was awkward as hell, but you both were too direct and honest to not deal with the weird atmosphere immediately.

So you decided to add some…privileges to your relationship. 

You discovered Theo had quite an oral fixation. 

He needed to keep his mouth occupied with something.

Cigarettes were a great way to keep his mouth busy, but they were extremely damaging for his health.

You didn't mean to make him stop smoking, you knew it would've been basically impossible, and, if you had to be completely honest with yourself, he looked so damn hot with those death traps between his lips, but you wanted to at least try to reduce the amount of nicotine that went into his body.

And what better way than to bribe him with the second thing he loved the most in the world ?

Eating you out seemed to be his favorite hobby.

Anytime he felt the need to light one cigarette more than necessary he came to you, with that sinful smirk on his lips and the hottest ‘fuck me’ eyes he could master.

And who were you to say no ? 

You had proposed the deal in the first place.

Plus, he was amazing at it too. The way his tongue worked on your cunt definitely felt like ascending to heaven.

But now you really didn't have the time.

“I'm not here because I feel like smoking, Y/n” he said walking up to you and stopping in front of the desk, leaning forward a little as he supported his weight with his hands on the table. 

You made the mistake of lifting your eyes from the parchment and locking them with his. His gaze was magnetic. Once those pools of stormy sea caught you, you couldn't escape.

“Then why are you here ?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“Cause I'm starving, bambolina” he uttered with the calmest and most unaffected tone in his voice. (babydoll)

You narrowed your eyes.

“Then you should be in the kitchen to solve that little problem, don't you think ?” you asked rhetorically, eyes going back to focus on the parchment in front of you.

You heard him scoff, and suddenly he was leaning so much closer.

Your head was still hung low, trying to write that damn essay, but his presence was distracting as hell and you couldn't help but shiver when he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“You're right, that would be the perfect solution if I was hungry for food” he stopped and you could feel the teasing smile plastered on his face.

“But all I'm craving is you and that pretty little cunt of yours, so I don't think the kitchen elves could really help me with that”

You wished you could say his words didn't affect you, you really wished.

But the sudden warmth on your cheeks and the unconscious clench of your legs told another story.

You really didn't have time for this, but your body was craving him and his touch like crazy, and you weren't sure you would've been able to focus if you didn't feel his tongue working its wonders on you.

So you sighed and pushed the chair you were sitting on a bit farther away from the desk, enough to take your knickers off and throw them somewhere behind you, then you sat back, your skirt still covering you up until your mid thighs.

His eyes darkened with lust.

“Make it quick, I have an essay to finish” you said, faking indifference.

On the inside you were burning alive.

“Quick ? It's like you don't know me at all, dolcezza” he said with a scoff as he sank to his knees, crawling until he was right in front of you.

His gaze locked in yours as his hands made contact with the bare skin of your legs, caressing them gently, tenderly.

“I'll take my sweet time with you. Ora fai la brava and open those gorgeous legs for me” you hated how fast you complied, but with the way he was looking at you you really couldn’t help yourself. (Now be good) 

He lifted your skirt and he leaned forward.

As soon as his tongue made contact with your folds you melted.

You choked out a whimper, and you could feel him smirk right against your groin.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Nott, I'm only -ah fuck, I'm only doing it because you begged me” you said as he kept lapping at your core with his tongue, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a gentle suck.

The moan that rippled out of you was almost pornographic.

“Piccola bugiarda, you know that's not true. You're doing it because you want it too” he moved his mouth from your cunt to your thighs, giving feather light kisses on the sensitive skin. (Little liar)

“You're so wet, you didn't think I would notice ?” he asked with that fucking cocky attitude that made you go crazy.

“Shut up and put that mouth to a better use” you said, but the bite in your voice was definitely toned down by the urgency and neediness of having his mouth back where you needed him the most.

His head tilted to the side as he leaned back just the tiniest bit.

“What's with the attitude, uh ?”

“No, no, no, -shit Theo. Come back here” you said, almost whining.

He was too far, and you needed him.

You needed him closer, way fucking closer.

“E come si dice ?” he teased, his eyes were dark and fogged up by lust and hunger. (And what do you say ?)

“Fuck, why do you always want me to beg ?” you asked, defeated. He leaned forward again, his breath hovering right above the tender skin as you clenched around nothing, feeling the loss of his tongue.

“Because it's fun, I love it when you beg me with that sweet mouth of yours. Plus I like seeing you flustered” he said as he started to kiss every inch and nook of your most sensitive area, avoiding where you really wanted him to.

You wanted to curse so bad, but you knew that was not what he wanted, what he needed.

“Theo -fuck. Please Theo, just touch me. Please” you surrendered, your voice whiny and broken, until a melody of moans and whimpers started to ripple out of your lips as soon as his mouth met your folds again.

And this time he didn’t stop.

He lapped at your juices like a starved man enjoying his meal for the first time in days.

He licked, and sucked, and kissed every centimeter, every inch of tender skin like he was born to do that.

Your hands buried in his soft brown locks and you tugged at them unconsciously after a particularly good roll of his tongue made you see stars.

“Cazzo, se continui così verrò nei pantaloni porca puttana” he said, hissing. His mouth kept working wonders on your cunt, his groans creating delicious vibrations on your clit. (Fuck, if you keep this up I'll come in my pants, holy shit)

“Ancora” he said between ravenous licks and delicate, teasing sucks, guttural moans leaving his lips. (Again)

“What ?” you asked, lost in pleasure. Your little knowledge of the Italian language became nonexistent when he was busy making you cry on his tongue.

“Again, baby. You know i fucking love it” he says, mouthing the words right against your core.

And so you obeyed, tugging at his hair again, a little rougher, a little harder.

A low groan left his lips.

You were close, you were so fucking close.

“Shit, Theo, baby” you moaned out loud, the term of endearment completely slipping out.

Theo seemed to notice, because he started to go faster, tongue flicking desperately at your folds.

Your breath got caught in your lungs, your ears rang and your sight turned black as you got hit by pleasure.

The hand on his hair kept Theo close as you rode your orgasm on his tongue.

He lapped at your juices carefully, to not overstimulate you, leaving sweet butterfly kisses on your thighs, worshiping the skin with his lips.

Once your breathing started to go back to normal and your sight was not blurry from the pleasure anymore you looked at him.

He was still kneeling in front of you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as his eyes focused on your face.

“You look quite disheveled, principessa” he said with a chuckle, pride oozing from his features for reducing you in that state. All fucked out and breathless. (princess)

“Oh, yeah ? And whose fault is that ?” you asked in mocking shock, but you couldn't help a chuckle from escaping your lips.

“And you're one to talk” you added as you took in his appearance. His eyes were still quite foggy and unfocused, his hair a mess from all the tugging, and his lips.

Oh, his lips. Red and shiny with your essence and the tiniest bit swollen.

He looked too fucking good to be true.

You knew you folded too easily when Theo was involved, but you couldn’t help it.

“I told you I was starving, you underestimated my eagerness to fucking devour you” he said with a shrug, wetting his lips to savor your taste once again, like his words didn’t make you feel like you were catching fire.

That mouth of his was a menace, physically and metaphorically.

“I’m never gonna be able to finish this stupid essay now” you said almost desperately.

He laughed at your pathetic whining, but it was a warm laugh, not one made to mock you but one that was closer to endearment.

“Was it so good that it melted your brain off ?” he asked with that cocky grin of his.

You looked at him with a deadpan expression.

“Your overly confident attitude never fails to amaze me, Theodore Nott '' you said with a chuckle. You straightened your posture on the chair, smoothing out all the wrinkles that he had left from fisting your skirt and holding on for dear life to keep your hips still.

“Now I don’t want to kick you out, but I really need to finish this”

“No need for that, tesoro, I’ll leave you to it. Wouldn’t want to distract you too much” he said, getting back up on his feet and tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.

“See you at dinner ?” he asked. 

You simply nodded your head yes.

His hand was still gently caressing your cheek, the pads of his fingers were as light as a feather as they danced on your skin.

His eyes were locked in yours, and you had no idea of what was happening.

Until his fingers reached your chin, tilting your head up the slightest bit. 

Then he leaned in.

For the first time since you had started this ‘arrangement’ his lips met yours.

And they were sweeter than you thought, gentle, but there was an undertone of hunger, of neediness that you couldn’t ignore.

He tasted of nicotine and butter beer, bittersweet and addicting.

His lips were slightly chapped but you couldn’t care less about it as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip, his teeth grazing at it gently right after as he carefully bit the plump skin.

He pulled back slowly and you were left speechless.

He just chuckled at your wide eyes and agape mouth.

“Good luck on your essay, ok ? I’ll see you tonight” he left a quick kiss on your cheek before storming out of the door with a smile on his face.

Your thoughts were all over the place, because what the hell had just happened ?

Did Theodore Nott just kiss you ?

Something a little different from my usual marauders content, but he's been stuck in brain for weeks now, and I couldn't help myself 😔

And honestly, as an Italian girl, I really think Lorenzo Zurzolo should be classified as a national treasure, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[anadiasmount]

giiiirlll you gotta write some smut blurb for me after this game !!!! the way jude was sooo aggressive and full of energy 🤭🤭 you have too!!

oh my!! here’s a mini blurb ig!! 🤭🤭 mind the spelling errors pls 😔

“don’t look at the window… look at me love… look at how good and so fucking tight you’re taking me y/n,” jude hissed, his hand sneaking up your sides as your eyes fluttered and pleasure. feeling so full. with courage and strength you managed to look him, jude’s eyes dark and lustful with one thing in mind.

he was still on his winning high, adrenaline still rushed in his veins and energetic. he couldn’t stop it, didn’t know how. especially when he saw you wearing his flimsy jersey and just panties underneath. he craved, needed you to his will just for tonight.

he started on the couch, denying your orgasm with his tongue and finger deep in your cunt. then once again on top your desk where he pushed away papers and pens as he took you from behind. it was so dirty yet so hot it made you dizzy. the way he used and manhandled you. yet also being soft to make sure you were okay and wanted this, just as much as he did.

you loved this side of jude, that appeared on games like this where everything could go wrong for him. you loved that he came to you first. with a needy and almost begging voice. how could you not let him? he was wrapped around your finger, and you’d do anything to give him what he wanted.

he kissed you messily, his tongue tracing his name on yours, gliding it along your pulse point and sucking before hitting the area. you bucked your hips down, the pleasure getting so heavy and cloudy the only thing you could focus on was how deep he was. hitting the angle that made your legs shake and whimper his name. clugging on his shoulders afraid to let go.

“jude please… i can’t… you’re so… mhm… so deep,” you cried out, walls clenching around his hard cock that slowly thrusted in and then out, so wet and so easily. “what do you want y/n?” he gripped your jaw gently, forcing you to look at his pretty and fucked out face. “i need you to tell me baby… or else it will be a longer night.”

“to cum… jude please… i need too. i given you all you asked jude… this isn’t what a goal scorer does…” you said struggling, a trembling chin as you kissed his face, your feet bringing him closer to you. “you’re right he doesn’t do this… and you’ve been such a good fucking gurl for me… listening and waited so patiently…” jude moaned, digging his head in the crook of your neck.

you feared that if he stopped you would cry out, your neighbors being able to hear you. the feeling was indescribable, so passionate, so intimate, you didn’t want him to stop. you but your lip, the bubble in your tummy exploding any second if he continued the pace he was at. “please jude, please-”

“yes holy shit… yes y/n you can cum, cum all over my cock, show me how good i’m giving it to you… how it feels,” jude said, kissing you deep hiding the loud moan that would escape your lips as you were driven to the breaking point. jude groaned feeling as you scratched his back, your legs trembling around him, saying his name like a devoted prayer.

so sweet. jude’s cock twitched inside you, being able to feel the white ropes of cum as he controlled his breathing as well, shaky breaths escaping his swollen and plump lips.

it wasn’t just one time. this was the beginning of something that would last until the morning if it was allowed. no matter how many times it happened, you loved this type of sex with him. so meaningful and so longing.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Ghost Whisperer || CL16

AN: another one from the archives of forgotten fics.

Summary: gifted with the ability to talk with the dead, you meet a man who wants you to take him to Monaco to check on his godson.

Warnings: mentions of death

Your family holiday had taken a turn when you reached Nice, France, and found the apartment that they had rented was already occupied. They were oblivious to the man who had lived there a decade earlier but your sixth sense had spotted him the moment you walked in the door.

“You’re going to love him,” Jules repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning.

“This isn’t Tinder,” you said to the apparition sitting in the passenger seat of your rental car. “I’m just going to find your friend so you can finally rest.”

“What’s Tinder?”

“Nevermind.”

“And he’s not just my friend,” he corrected. “He’s my godson, he’s family.”

You sighed as you imagined how the conversation would go with a child. It was hard enough trying to explain your gifts to adults who understood what you were saying, they just didn’t believe you. Everyone thought you were just trying to scam them when you said you had a message from a loved one.

“He’s the kindest kid you’ll ever meet. You’ll see.” Jules smiled as you followed his directions and crested over the mountain range to see Monaco in all its summer glory. “Beautiful, right?”

You were awestruck by the sight of the sun on the sea and his smile grew at your loss for words. It was a shame you had to drive when all you wanted to do was sit and watch the city grow before your eyes. Unfortunately it took a huge amount of energy for a ghost to even move a feather so there was no hope of Jules taking over the steering wheel for you.

Once inside the city he directed you to a home that the family had lived in and hopefully still did. The white door had a large brass door knocker in the shape of a lion and it was cold to the touch when you grabbed it.

“Bonjour,” a friendly middle aged woman answered and Jules breathed her name like prayer. “Puis-je vous aider?”

“Do you speak English?”

“Yes, is there something I can help you with?”

You looked to your left and Jules gave you an encouraging smile. “I was hoping to speak to Charles. Is he here?”

You were aware it was a weekday and he was likely at school but it was still disappointing to see Pascale shake her head. “He hasn’t lived here for some time, are you a friend of his?”

She was already growing defensive, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for your answer. “No, we don’t know each other but a mutual friend asked me to pass a message to him.”

“Aw, we are friends,” Jules chuckled and you had to fight to resist rolling your eyes.

“Perhaps I should call my son,” she murmured as she held a hand up. “Just wait here a moment.”

She closed the door behind her and you waited impatiently as you shifted on your feet. “What happens if she doesn’t give up his address?”

“The city isn’t that big, I’m sure we can find him.” His attention turned to the door and he went to nudge you but his elbow went straight through, causing goosebumps to travel across your skin.

“Stop doing that,” you growled as the door opened. Pascale gave you an odd look as she found you alone waiting, but she didn’t ask who you were talking to as she held a phone out.

“He wants to know who this mutual friend is.”

You took the phone and raised it to your ear. “Hello, is this Charles?”

“Yes, now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the police and have you trespassed?”

You reeled back at the animosity, but also the depth of his voice. He was not the child you had envisioned. “I have done nothing wrong.”

“I understand you are a fan and I appreciate that, but you cannot just keep showing up at my mother’s house and expect to find me. There is a boundary and this is crossing it.”

You pulled back the phone to look at it in disgust before you turned and took a step away from his mother. “I don’t know who you think you are, hot shot, but I was only doing this because your friend asked me to. For some reason he thinks highly of you, but I can’t say the same.”

The seconds dragged on and if it wasn’t for his soft breathing you would have thought the call disconnected. “Who?” he finally asked.

You took a steadying breath knowing this was almost always the point that you lost their interest. “Jules.”

“Goodbye.”

“Charles!” Your ears rang with Jules’ outburst and the screen pixelated before returning to normal to show the call was still connected. Charles’ breathing turned ragged as he choked on his tongue knowing the voice he had heard. Doubt and other emotions roiled his insides but he couldn’t hang up no matter how much he wanted to.

An address rattled off his heavy tongue and Jules recognised the street name, giving you a nod. “I’ll see you soon,” you said as you handed the phone back to his mother.

“Please don’t hurt him,” she asked as she pocketed the device.

“I just want to pass on a message and go back to my holiday,” you promised, though she frowned at the evasive words that created more questions she held back.

By force of habit, her frown deepened when you nodded your head to the empty space beside you and muttered, “Come on then.”

Jules lingered another moment, his hand reaching for Pascale’s only for her to shiver and wrap her arms around herself. With a sigh, he turned away and heard the door click shut behind him.

“She was like a second mother to me,” he said quietly as he caught up. “The kindest woman I knew.”

“You also said Charles would be great but so far that is not how I am feeling.”

Jules had nothing to say to that, but it had been 10 years since his death. Perhaps a decade had changed Charles while Jules remained the same.

–

The apartment building was as pretty as the rest that you had passed but the afternoon sun left a shadow climbing its walls and you couldn’t help feeling like it was an omen as you buzzed his apartment number. Instead of answering, the front door unlocked and you stepped inside apprehensively. Each step on the tiled floor echoed and you followed the apartment numbers as you climbed the stairs to Charles’.

His door was already opened, a handsome man leaning against the doorway, and his eyes narrowed as they scanned you with each step closer. You wanted to elbow Jules for not telling you his godson was Adonis reincarnated but Jules was in his own state of shock seeing Charles grown into adulthood. The boy he knew was long gone, this was a man.

“My mother said to listen to you, that is the only reason you are here.” He stood up straighter, blocking you from seeing the inside of his home. “Say what you need to then go.”

You looked at Jules but he wasn’t any help as his jaw still hung open. You decided to go with honesty but really you were just taking a shot in the dark, he didn’t seem like the type to believe anything that was going to come out of your mouth. “My AirBnB in Nice came with a ghost named Jules and he wanted me to find you.”

Charles' hands dropped limp at his sides before a sharp laugh erupted and he stepped back into this apartment. He reached for his door, ready to slam it closed when Jules emerged from his stupor and whispered a few words for you to repeat.

“Bring it home, underdog.”

Charles froze at the words and nearly stumbled as he spun around. Anger painted his face and he closed the distance in a few strides as he shoved a shaking finger in your face. “What did you say?”

You swallowed at the animosity in his tone before straightening your spine and looking him in the eye. “The only way you show these guys you’re not a charity case is to prove them wrong and win, kid.”

His nose twitched as he struggled to understand the words he had heard once before. “Who told you to say that?”

You jutted your thumb at Jules. “You know who, the same man that told me.”

An array of emotions flitted across his face before settling on disbelief. “That’s not possible.”

“I wish,” you murmured before looking at Jules, and you felt bad. “Sorry.”

“I wouldn’t want that gift either,” he admitted. “Can you tell him he looks strong? And he finally grew into his big head.”

“Jules says you look good.”

“I said strong.”

“Strong, whatever,” you corrected. “He thinks you look strong. And you had a big head. Are you still racing?”

Charles followed your eyes to the space beside you but no matter how hard he tried to focus he couldn’t see anything. “I must be crazy.”

You snorted a laugh at what Jules said before repeating it. “No, you were crazy when you drove for years without knowing how to use the brakes.”

“I was eight,” Charles defended himself before realising that was not something widely known and something akin to wonder brightened his face. “Jules?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m here.”

Charles stepped aside and waved a hand in, urging you to follow him to the dining room table. He grabbed three bottles of water without thinking and then frowned as he put one back, a look of sadness washing over him.

“Don’t feel sad,” you said as you accepted the water. “Good things came about because of his death.”

Charles scoffed and untwisted the bottle cap with more force than necessary, spilling water over his hands. “Not for me.”

“You’re alive because of him, and that makes him happy,” you said, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. “Because of Jules they made the halo and that saved your life, and others too. He would take the sacrifice any day.”

“Always,” Jules echoed. He placed his hand on top of yours and it drifted through, sending goosebumps up yours and Charles’ arms.

“Jules,” you growled as you shook your hand out, but Charles stared at his in wonder.

“I felt him,” he whispered in amazement. “Mon Dieu!”

—

The next few hours passed by with an onslaught of questions, mostly ‘how’. How do you do it? How long have you seen them? How did you find out?

Slowly the questions became more personal.

“Do you do this for work?”

“No way, well kind of, maybe…I’m studying history. It does help when the old professor still hangs out in the library. He’s happy to help whenever I have questions.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“It’s no different to a tall person playing basketball. Success is just playing to your strengths.”

“Is talking to the dead really a strength?” Jules asked as he crossed his legs and drummed his fingers on his lips, pondering. “Surely you are just missing out on life.”

“I don’t think you’re one to talk, you’re still here when you could be enjoying whatever afterlife awaits.”

“I wish I could hear him,” Charles sighed. “Why hasn’t he moved on?”

You shrugged and looked at Jules for an answer.

“I promised Hervé I would watch over him.”

Charles’ eyes misted and his head bowed as he tried to hide how he wiped the tears away. “I’m an adult now, Jules, you don’t have to stick around for me.”

“I see that now,” he said with a sad smile as he stood up and ruffled Charles' hair. “I love you, kid.”

Charles’ breath shuddered from his lungs as he felt the large hand on his head for a second before it disappeared. “Is he…is he gone?”

You watched Jules step out onto the balcony and warmth flooded the room as he faded into the shimmering light.

“Now he is,” you swallowed the lump in your throat that always came with the final goodbye. Standing up, you looked to the door and wondered if you should quietly leave but when you looked back at Charles, his eyes red and cheeks wet, you knew you couldn’t leave him that way.

Walking around the table, you took a seat next to Charles and took his hand. He broke away from staring silently at the wood grain and knots in the table and sniffled. “Thank you.”

“I would say anytime but…”

You smiled as Charles managed a small chuckle. “I think once is enough, but I wonder…” he looked around the room. “You haven’t seen my father have you?”

You shook your head. “There wasn’t anyone at your mother’s house either. It’s likely if he was at peace then he’s already moved on.”

“Good, that’s good.” He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, wincing at the dampness on his hands. “Sorry.”

“I’m used to it, you cry as much as you want. There isn’t exactly a right way to feel when it comes to this,” you admitted as you looked out of the balcony to see the marina looking even more beautiful.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” He caught your lingering gaze and cleared his throat. “Maybe I could show you the city?”

“You’re probably in shock. You should rest,” you said with a shake of your head. “But I’m pretty sure I saw Monaco on my mum’s itinerary for next week. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “Or maybe you could call me?”

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[verstappen-cult]

OBSESSED, M. VERSTAPPEN.

✶ SUMMARY. You’ve always been a little bit obsessed with your boyfriend. Especially with his thighs.

Or, 2 times Max catches you looking at his thighs + 1 time you do something about it.

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. max’s thighs. blowjobs. biting. pegging. english is not my first language.

GWEN RAMBLES — this was requested a while ago and just now had the inspo and the time to write it. i’m sorry to the person who asked for this but also big thanks because i’ve also been obsessed with max’s thighs ever since i saw pics of him in those tiny shorts. hopefully we’ll get to see more of that during this summer break. prayer circle, my house at 10pm. 🤞🏼

#1

It’s a very hot summer day and you’re spending it out at sea on Max’s yacht with some of your friends.

And Max is wearing the shortest shorts ever known to man, while also parading himself around the yacht with a gin and tonic in hand.

He’s drunk. You see it in the way he laughs at Daniel’s joke, overly excited and almost doubling down in a hysterical laugh – Max always laughs at whatever comes out of Daniel’s mouth, but when he’s drunk it’s definitely worse – and how he has to grab onto the railing to keep his balance.

His glass is empty, so he excuses himself to go pour some more of his favorite drink. But then he sees you watching him and a big smile breaks out on his face.

“Hey, baby.” He says plopping down next to you, the couch is so comfy that you’ve find yourself dozing off a few times. But the heat has made it impossible for you to catch your sleep. “What are you doing here all alone, pretty girl?”

Oh, yes. He also likes to call you all the petnames in the world when he’s drunk.

You scoff, brushing a strand of hair out of his sweaty forehead. “Jus’ watching you flirt with Daniel.”

“I was not!” He moves away, crossing his arms over his chest like a scolded child.

It is in that exact moment that your gaze is drawn to his legs. His shorts have gone up a little too much, revealing the pale skin of his thick thighs.

Your mouth waters at the sight.

Images of those thighs wrapped around your waist as you fu—

“What you looking at?” Max’s tone is teasing, a smirk dancing on his lips. He knows exactly what you’re looking at.

Your eyes snap up to his, heat going up your chest all the way to your face.

“Oh, shut up.” You bite back, forcing yourself to look away. You raise your own glass of gin and tonic to your lips just to have something to do.

Max keeps on looking at you, you can feel his blue eyes boring holes in the side of your face.

Eventually, he stands up. Right in front of you, so you have no other option than to look at him.

"See something you like?" He asks, chewing on his bottom lip.

You're about to open your mouth to say something witty when he just simply turns around and goes back to the rest of the group.

If your eyes remained fixed on his ass, nobody needs to know that.

#2

Max is training on the terrace. It's a chilly day in Monaco, so he decided to skip going to the gym and, instead, to do his daily training at home.

On one side it's good because he just got back from Italy and you've missed him. You want to spend as much time as you can with him before he needs to travel to the next country.

But on the other side, it’s torture.

You were enjoying a really good book you picked up last week, an orange juice by your side on the lounge chair when he decided it was a good idea to start training mere feet away from you in those stupid shorts of his.

Now you’re trying to make out the words in the page as he sits at the other side of the terrace, legs spread and feet planted on the floor as he does some lifting. His hair is long, so a few strands of hair fall over his eyes.

Your gaze is set in the way the muscle of his thigh tenses as he lifts the weights, then relaxing again while a groan falls from his lips. He repeats the action again. And again.

By the fourth time, you feel overwhelmed and short of breath.

"You've been reading the same page for a while now. Is it that good?" There's a glint of amusement in his eyes and a smirk gracing his lips.

"Uh?" You ask dumbly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

All the blood in your body flows to your face as thoughts of feeling his thighs tensing under your hands while doing something completely different flood your mind.

"You can at least pretend," He snorts, setting the weights aside.

Max grabs a towel to wipe the sweat off his face, his other hand brushing through his hair.

He's so unfairly hot.

You need to cool down. You need to do something.

+1

You successfully avoided your boyfriend the rest of the morning, deciding instead to go to your room to actually read the book. Being as far away as possible from him is what you needed. It’s not fair he looks so good lifting weights.

That was until Max came into the room announcing he was going to take a shower. You didn’t even raised your head, you just kept reading.

But then he emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing more than his boxers.

If you were having a hard time with his shorts before, it is so much worse now. You don’t even know how he put them on, his thighs are one second away from ripping them into pieces.

“Stop ogling me.” He’s drying his hair with a towel, drops of water falling down his naked chest.

You pout, leaving your book aside. You know you will not be reading any more pages today, not while he’s standing there like a sweet waiting to be devoured. “It’s not my fault you have such huge thighs.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t be like that,” You get out of bed, walking to him. “I know you like it when I thirst over you.”

“Yes. Because I love being perceived as nothing more than a sex symbol.” Max takes one of his hundreds Red Bull shirts out of the closet, but before he has time to put it on, you throw it across the room.

Max’s complaint dies in his throat when he sees the hunger in your eyes.

“Admit that you like it.” You plant your hands on his chest, pushing him backwards until his back is against the wall.

The towel falls from his hands and he swallows with a barely perceptible nod of his head.

You shake your head, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it in front of him. “No, I want you to say it.” You maintain eye contact as you fall down on your knees, it’s almost funny the way his eyes widen.

His jaw goes slack when he feels your hands on the waistband of his underwear.

“Yes,” He sighs, closing his eyes tightly. “I like it.”

You coo, placing a hand over your heart. “See?” You feign pitying him. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Max whines when you finally pull his boxers down, his already growing cock springing free.

“I don’t know,” He breathes out, looking down at you. “what you like about my thighs so much.”

You have to laugh, a finger moving up and down his left thigh. “What do you mean? Haven’t you look at how,” You grab his thighs, fingers sinking into the muscled flesh. “thick they are? You have no idea how much I want to bite them.”

“Do it.” The words are out of his mouth before he has time to think about it. Not that he doesn’t want you to do it, it’s that if he thinks too much about it he might lose his mind.

You look into his eyes, so blue and deep as the sea, before looking at what you have right in front of you.

The object of your most recent fantasies.

Max takes a sharp intake of breath as you lean in, but instead of immediately biting into the flesh, you run your tongue from the bottom all the way to the top, stopping right before you reach his pelvis. His cock twitching at having your mouth so close.

"Think of how pretty these would look with my teeth marks." Max groans, fisting his hands by his sides. "You should definitely use those tiny shorts now to show everyone what you let me do."

Max can't say anything, his mind going fuzzy at the edges already. He feels like his whole body is on fire.

You keep running your tongue over his left thigh, occasionally sucking a mark. Only when you're pleased with your work, you move to the other one.

"Plea—" A moan gets ripped from his throat when you sink your teeth into his thigh, your hand brushing against his cock. The second time you do it, Max thrust his hips up at nothing.

"So fucking perfect." You moan seeing the final result. "I can't believe you're letting me mark you."

Max is about to reply when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

"Oh, fuck!"

With the help of your hand you start stroking what doesn't fit in your mouth, the taste and how big it feels against your tongue making you moan.

Max tangles his fingers in your hair. His vision going blurry as you twirl your tongue around the tip of his cock and, without warning, taking as much as you can in your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You have to stop yourself for a few seconds to breathe through your nose, before pulling back until only the head is in your mouth. Slowly, and lifting your gaze up to his, you start bobbing up and down, hollowing your cheeks.

Max's moans and pants fill the room, mixing with the slurping sounds of your mouth and tongue working on his shaft.

You drag your teeth along the sides of his cock, and Max hisses in response. "Fuck, do it again." And you do it, pulling an obscene sound from him.

When Max looks down, he finds the hand that's not on his thigh, feeling the muscles tensing under it, between your legs, moving in circles against your clit.

Max thrusts his hips up, not being able to hold back, and immediately regrets it when he hears you cough. But then you’re pull off him, a grin on your face as you wipe the saliva with the back of your hand.

"Do it again."

That's the only thing you say before taking him deeper into your throat.

Max pulls lightly on your scalp, and you moan around him. It makes him do it again as he start thrusting his hips into your mouth, the gagging sounds almost enough to send him over the edge.

"Fuck, look at you. So pretty with your mouth full of my cock."

You moan and squeeze his thighs, hearing his breathing get more ragged lets you know how close he is to his release.

So, you pull off him.

Max groans at not feeling the warmth of your mouth around him anymore. He was so close to spilling down you throat.

"On the bed." Your throat is sore and are in need of a glass of water. But it can wait.

It takes him a moment to process your words, but then he's moving and climbing into the bed.

You stand up, your knees hurting despite having the pillow underneath, and open the special drawer you two have in the closet.

Max's gasps makes you chuckle.

You take out Max's favorite harness and one of your favorite dildos. It's a little smaller than Max's huge cock. Just a little bit.

You leave it by Max's side as you climb on top of him. "Spread your legs." He does it, getting comfortable against the pillows. "More." You help him by bending his right knee, feet planted on the mattress.

You take your sweatpants and underwear off, before leaning over to grab some lube from the nightstand.

Max's blue eyes glaze over. You straddle his left thigh, a soft moan falls from your mouth when your cunt makes contact with his skin, and he flexes his thigh.

"You—," He groans, tilting his head back against the pillows. "You're already soaking my thigh." He says in a gasp, his hand finding your hip and helping you move against him. "Got turned on by sucking my cock, uh?" He teases you and all you can do is nod, at a loss of words, your clit dragging against his muscled thigh making you whimper.

You're overwhelmed by the pleasure, only able to moan his name over and over, and over again. Your eyelids fluttering shut when you grind just right against him.

But you have a plan, so without pausing the drag of your pussy, you grab the lube, popping the cap and coating two fingers.

Max looks intently as you warm your fingers before guiding them to where he needs you the most. He instinctively spreads his legs some more, giving you enough space.

Your cling onto Max's arm on your hip to keep moving against his thigh as you slip your index finger into the tight heat of Max's hole.

Max moans loudly. He doesn't know where to look, if at you bouncing on his thigh or at where your finger disappears inside of him.

"More," He grits his teeth on a whimper, closing his eyes for a second. "Please."

And who are you to say no? You slide your finger all the way in, pumping slowly until you have him moaning for more; so you add a second finger, scissoring them to open him up.

Your legs begin to shake, forcing Max to help you by tensing his muscles which makes it easier to grind against him. The angle is a little weird, but neither of you seem to care.

Max's hips thrust up to meet your fingers, which are now hitting his prostate on every stroke. He's out of breath, pre-cum pooling on his lower belly, and throws his head back, clenching around your fingers.

Seeing him so desperate only spurs you on.

Your climax takes you by surprise. White-hot pleasure erupts behind your eyelids with a broken moan. His name, Max, Max, Max echoing in the room. Head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

It takes you a moment to go back to yourself and when you do, Max has a desperate look on his face, jaw slack and eyebrows furrowed.

"You're so unfairly hot." Finally letting him know your thoughts from earlier. "You okay, baby?" You ask, teasingly. Moving your fingers slowly, staring intently down at his face.

"More." He cries out.

"You're doing so good for me, Max." You praise him, fucking your fingers in harder, making him moan louder. You love to make him moan like this.

When Max starts babbling, you know he's getting close. So, you pull your fingers out. He's shivers slightly, feeling desperate at being so close to his orgasm again but not being able to reach for it.

While Max is busy trying to control his breathing, you grab the harness to lube up the toy.

Max groans desperately when he feels you between his spread legs, the head of the dildo sliding easily into his hole.

You stare intently down at him and he grabs your hips to help you slide all the way in until your hips are pressed up against his ass. You place your hands on his thighs, and he immediately wraps them around your waist with enough force to keep you still, not letting you move.

You stare into each other's eyes, and then you're meeting halfway in a hungry and messy kiss. You feel like you can't breathe and need him to survive, and for the way he licks into your mouth you know he feels the same.

When you pull away, he nods at you to continue. You grip his hips, setting a brutal pace that has him groaning and fisting the sheets.

Max whines and squeezes his eyes shut, feeling you so deep it’s almost sucking the air out of him.

"Does it feel good?" You pant, fucking harder. The slapping of your skin against his so obscene it makes your cunt clench around nothing.

It's good, it's incredible even. But he needs more, he needs—

"I want to ride you."

Your brain buzzes, his words echoing in your head. "Yeah?" You slow down, biting your lip when you find his eyes, blue completely swallowed by black.

He helps you pull out and sit against the headboard, and you can't tear your eyes away from his bruised thighs, the love bites and teeth marked a reminder of your obsession with that specific part of him.

Max pushes himself up on his knees and straddles you, hovering over your cock. He maintains eye contact as he wraps his hands around it and slowly lowers himself.

His thighs clench as he feels the tip breaching his ring of muscles. It feels tighter, even though you've been inside of him moments ago. He manages to sink down completely, hissing at feeling so full.

"Just—give me a second." He whispers, one of his hands holding onto your shoulder.

Max lifts himself up, your cock almost slipping out, only the tip still inside, before letting himself fall down. He keeps that rhythm for a few minutes, adjusting to the feeling of you inside of him.

When he starts bouncing on your cock with a little more force, you start to thrust your hips up to meet him, ripping moan after moan from his throat.

"You feel so, shit, so good." He sighs, leaning in to connect your lips.

You moan into each other's mouths, your cock hitting that particular spot inside of him.

Max breaks the kiss and places his hands on your legs behind him, bracing himself as he rolls his hips, the new angle making his mind shut down completely.

"Good boy," You praise him, gaze flicking from his leaking cock to his bruised thighs clenching every time he pushes himself up. "Taking my cock so well. Look at you, so pretty."

You know you hit his prostate when he sobs, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

His movements become sloppy, his thighs clenching with more force as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm.

A few more thrust with your fingers digging into his hips, and he's shooting a huge load of his cum across his stomach and even chest. He sees stars behind his eyes, his climax so intense he feels like passing out. He keeps on riding you through his orgasm, letting his head fall forward against your forehead. He only stops when starts to feel overstimulated.

Both of you stay silent for a few moments, trying to catch your breath. Only when Max feels like he's not going to pass out, he opens his eyes to see you already looking at him, a soft smile on your lips.

He kisses you softly. "So, what about my thighs? Really, I need to know because it's a little weird."

You huff, rolling your eyes. "It's not weird."

Max laughs, cupping your cheek. "Of course not."

"It is not!" You say indignantly, your thumbs drawing patterns on his hips. "It's like you being obsessed with my tits. I don't tell you it's weird."

"I have teeth marks all over my thighs. I won't be able to wear shorts for weeks."

"I didn't hear you complaining when I was on my knees." You shrug as Max gests comfortable on top of you, the toy still sitting inside of him.

"Shut up, you weirdo." He jokes.

"You love me."

He looks at you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. "I do."

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[prythianpages]

Goodnight | Azriel

summary: Azriel has a night time confession. The aftermath of me still having Billie Eilish's Birds of a Feather on repeat.

warnings: none, just fluff

word count: 943, short and sweet

a/n: I wrote this a couple of days ago and was hesitant to post bc I felt it was similar to my other Az fic but then decided, wth just post it. So here it is 💙

Shadows rustled among the trees, dancing and swirling, bringing forth a gentle but cool breeze. The tendrils remaining with Azriel curl up around his ear, whispering of the subtle shiver you gave. Without a word, Azriel shrugs his jacket and secures it around your shoulders.

“Oh,” you whisper, slightly startled by his gesture. “But aren’t you cold?”

“I’m fine,” he assures you with a small smile. He’s all too familiar with the chill permeating the air. 

There’s another breeze rustling through the canopy of trees. This time, it’s stronger and colder and some leaves fall, fluttering around you both. Azriel looks up with a glare but the glare is quickly replaced with something softer when the shadows around his neck whisper to him. They tell him of the way you wrapped his jacket around you tighter, a subtle blush rising as the new closeness of the fabric brought his scent to you.

“You didn’t have to walk me home,” you say, glancing up at Azriel. “Things were just getting interesting back there. You could still go back, you know.”

Azriel lets out a snort. “You mean Amren and her bathroom discussions? No, thank you.”

You laugh and Azriel smiles with you. He’s definitely not missing anything back home. Not when you, the greatest subject of his interests, are walking beside him. He noticed when your eyes began to grow weary and participation in the conversations grew less and less. He also noticed the mischievous glint in Cassian’s eyes as his friend glanced between you and him.

“Welcome to our world, tiny ancient one. Everyone poops! Anyway, you want to hear something funny? How about the time Azriel–” 

But much to Azriel’s relief, you had stood up with a small apologetic smile and politely dismissed yourself since you had an early shift the following morning. So, of course, Azriel had offered to walk you home, saving himself from the embarrassment that was sure to follow from Cassian’s words. He made sure to kick Cassian’s boot as he followed after you with a smug look on his face. He also made sure to bring his jacket along with him, noticing you had arrived without one.

So now, the two of you walked side by side. Granted, he could’ve used his shadows to winnow you to your doorstep in an instant. But that would mean cutting his precious time with you short and he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. The quiet night envelops you in its serene embrace and the silence that falls between you is comfortable yet charged with an unspoken tension that neither of you dare to break.

As you reach your door, Azriel’s mind races with thoughts he fears to voice. You turn to face him and Azriel fights the urge to frown. Why did you have to live so close? He sends a silent prayer to the stars above that you might forget about the jacket wrapped snugly around your shoulders, just so he’d have an excuse to see you again.

"Goodnight," you say softly, your voice like a melody he wished to hear every night, eyes still sparkling with the remnants of laughter from earlier. 

"Goodnight," Azriel replies, his heart pounding. Before he can stop himself, the words slip out so smoothly one would think it was a common occurrence between you both. “I love you."

You freeze, eyes widening in surprise and face contorting into a taken aback expression, trying to process what he just said. It’s then that it hits him as well. His own eyes widen in horror.  

"Um, sorry... I didn't mean to say that."

Your head tilts slightly in question, a gesture he finds absolutely endearing. He feels heat rise to his cheeks, his shadows slithering up his neck as if trying to offer him some comfort. "I mean, I meant it... but I didn't mean it, mean it... You know what I mean?"

Gods, he sounds like a fool. Years of meticulously concealed emotions, years of perfecting an unreadable facade, and now, of all times, he slips?

A sly smile plays at the corners of your lips. "Go home, Az,” you say, teasing and knowing. “And let me know when you mean it, mean it…”

With that, you gently close the door, leaving him standing there, his mind racing and his heart aching. Because what just happened? And what did you mean by that?

No. Azriel couldn’t leave it like that.

He knocks on your door, fist trembling lightly, his shadows whispering encouragement. When you open it, your face is a mixture of curiosity and amusement. He meets your eyes, apprehension and hope swirling together in his hazel depths. 

"I mean it, mean it," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, there is silence. 

Then, your smile softens, your eyes filled with understanding. You step closer, standing on your tip-toes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Then, I love you too,” you whisper against his skin, your breath warm and sweet, stirring his shadows into a gentle frenzy.

Before you can pull away, Azriel turns his head, capturing your lips in a kiss that sends butterflies fluttering wildly in his stomach. He savors the softness and taste of your lips, losing himself in the moment when you’re kissing him back with the same eagerness. He rests his forehead against yours as he pulls away, his shadows swirling between you much like the unspoken emotions between you do.

"Goodnight, Az," you whisper softly, your eyes holding sleep, yet shining with the promise of more conversations tomorrow.

“Goodnight, y/n.”

This time, as the door closes, Azriel feels a warmth in his chest, a genuine, unguarded smile spreading across his face.

a/n: I seem to be in the mood for accidental/in the moment confessions. Sorry 😭

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming 

[ariestrxsh]

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, utter filth, masturbation, oral, fingering, public, getting caught, unprotected sex, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, praise, edging

📝 author's note: 📝 this is the second part of another piece of my writing, and it's not necessary to read the first part, but I promise it's worth it, and you can access it here 💖

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Matt and Chris come home with you after things get steamy in a public place, they beg you to play with yourself on the ride home, and once you all get back to your place and smoke a joint, Matt goes down on you on your balcony. Then Matt and Chris take turns watching the other have their way with you. They are gentlemen to you the whole time, and the night ends with you all showering together.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

both part two

Matt and Chris followed me out to my car which was parked in an alley behind the bar. The whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about how I didn't have any panties on, because they were likely tucked away in Chris' pocket, and I had to keep tugging my dress down every few steps to keep it from riding up. On the way there, I found Chris and Matt lagging behind a little, and all of a sudden, I felt a hard slap on my ass that caused me to jump and turn around. They were both on either side of me, pointing at the other, and saying, "nuh uh, wasn't me," but they both looked guilty. I rolled my eyes at them and continued walking, but as soon as they couldn't see my face, I bit my lip and smiled. I was fucking loving the attention.

"So where do you boys wanna smoke this joint?" I asked, rifling through my bag that was in the passenger seat of the car. "Let's go back to your place," Matt suggested, "I'll drive since I'm sober, and you guys were too drunk to keep it in your pants in a public place," Matt giggled at us. Chris and I smiled at at each other and shrugged. Matt did have a point. I tossed Matt my keys. Matt drove, Chris sat in the passenger seat, and I got comfy in the back. I decided to start rolling while Matt drove us to my apartment. We sat in the car for a few minutes while Chris put on some hiphop, and I concentrated on the joint, and once I'd licked it and sealed it, I tucked it into an empty altoid container in my purse.

Then Matt broke the silence between the three of us, "You know what I think you should do," he said, looking at me through the rearview mirror. "What?" "You should play with yourself while we drive to your place." I blushed. "I dont know if that's a good ide-" "Please do it. Please. I wanna watch too," Chris cut me off, smiling at me and holding his hands in a prayer position. I felt myself growing weak at Chris' begging. How could I say no to him? "Yeah, spread those legs for us, please," Matt said, tilting down the rearview mirror, so he could get a better view from where he was. Slowly but surely, I found myself obeying their demands. "Spread it open with your fingers, princess," Chris said, looking back at me from the passenger seat, and I did. I could tell I had Matt and Chris in a trance. "It's so pretty. I can't wait to taste it," Matt whispered.

"Show us how you'd touch yourself if we weren't here right now," Chris bit his lip while he looked between my legs. I applied some pressure to my clit with my middle finger and started moving it around in slow, steady circles. While I was embarrassed for Matt and Chris to be seeing me like this, it also turned me on a lot, and I felt myself instantly becoming wetter. I started making faster circles, and I started to moan a little bit. It felt so good to be seen by them while I pleasured myself. They both watched intently as a finger disappeared into my pussy, and I started slowly moving it back and forth, covering my hand in my juices. Chris was turned all the way around in his seat with a lustful look in his eye. "Pretty girl. You're getting your fingers so nice and wet," Matt said, glancing back through the rearview. I whimpered at their words, at their eyes on me. A familiar feeling grew in the pit of my stomach, and I knew I was starting to get close, but then I noticed Matt had pulled into my parking spot where I lived. "Don't cum yet, princess. Wait til we get inside and smoke," Matt told me, turning off the car.

Once we all stumbled into my apartment, I reached around in the dark for the light switch to turn on my lamp. We made our way through the kitchen, through the living room, and went out onto the balcony. I had some cute outdoor lights strung out above my patio furniture. Matt and Chris sunk into my couch, and I sat across from them in a love seat. I handed Chris the joint I'd rolled in the car and he lit it up. Once he passed it to me, I took a puff and glanced between the two of them.

"So have you guys done this before? Because y'all seem way too comfortable," I smirked at them. "Done what before?" Chris replied. "Have you guys ever shared a girl before?" I asked, passing the joint off to Matt. He took a few hits off the joint and smiled mischievously, "something like that." "Don't you guys get jealous?" I wondered. "It's complicated. But we actually both really like it," Matt said exchanging a devious look with Chris. "I bet you've never done anything like this before. You're a good girl, and you don't usually take risks," Chris teased me. Assuming he was referring to taking two men at the same time, he was right. I bit my lip and shook my head, "never."

Matt looked me up and down with this look in his eye that made me feel like he was devouring me whole. He gave the joint to Chris, and practically whimpered, "I can't take it anymore, Chris, I wanna taste her so bad." Matt fell to his knees in front of me and started planting kisses on the tops of my thighs, and I felt my legs fall open, almost as if I had no control over them. "What if someone sees?" I whispered, looking over the edge of the balcony at a couple that was walking by down below. Matt had his mouth inches away from my wet core. He looked up at me with this darkness in his eyes and a seductive smile crept across his face. "Let them."

He lowered his mouth onto my throbbing clit and started working his tongue and sucking gently. I looked behind Matt at Chris who was sitting in his chair, smoking the joint and admiring how uninhibited his brother was being. I watched as Chris got up out of his chair and walked over to me. He held the joint between his two fingers and looked into my eyes while he held it up to my mouth to take a puff of it. "You're so pretty when you're getting eaten out, princess," Chris told me. He took the nearly finished joint and put it out in the ashtray and then came around behind me. Chris stroked my hair while Matt was exploring me with his tongue. Neither Matt nor Chris was better at eating pussy, but they were both incredible at it, and they both went about it so differently. I loved how sensual and soft Matt was being compared to Chris earlier. His licks were long as slow, and it felt like he was spelling his name with his tongue, as if marking his territory.

Chris grabbed my neck and tilted my head back and started kissing me. The way Chris was being so rough and the way Matt was being so sweet and gentle was driving me crazy. I moaned against Chris' lips while he kept his grip around my throat. Hearing me moan caused Matt to moan against my clit. I was in heaven. "Keep going Matt. She loves it," Chris said, watching him. My breathing got heavier and the heartbeat grew faster as Chris slipped the straps of my dress off my shoulders and unhooked my bra. He let it fall to the floor of my balcony, and his hands found their way to my already hard nipples. Chris took the right one into his mouth, which elicited more sounds from me. Matt slowly entered two of his fingers, shocking me with the coldness of his rings against my warm center, and he moved them in and out of me at a slow but steady pace.

I was practically panting by now, and Chris was whispering into my ear. "Good girl. Let Matt know what a good job he's doing. He loves it." "Matt, y-you're doing so so g-good," I could hardly get out. Matt smiled up at me. I could tell he liked being praised too. Matt started flicking his tongue faster, and I felt myself clench Matt's fingers more tightly, and I think he felt it too, because he slowly backed off and said, "Not yet, princess, I'm not done with you." Over and over again, Matt did this, bringing me so close to the finish line with his mouth and fingers and then completely stopping. Chris watched in awe as Matt had me squirming and begging him to let me cum, not caring who heard me or saw me.

And I knew for sure that some of the small crowds of people walking by down below did notice us and could tell what we were doing. "Are they doing what I think they're doing?" I heard one girl say as she walked by and giggled with her friend. One guy whistled as he walked by with a group of his friends. "They love watching you and hearing you, princess. You're the star of the show," Chris whispered while he continued playing with my nipples. I was embarrassed we had been caught, but I was too desperate to cum to be quiet. "Please, Matt, I can't take it anymore!" I yelped, a writhing mess beneath them as Matt brought me to the edge a fourth time. "You've been such a good girl for me, I'll let you cum this time," Matt promised. My body convulsed as my orgasm tore through me. "Good girl, cum on Matty's tongue," Chris said, stroking my hair again and looking into my eyes.

Matt lapped up all my wetness, and before I could fully recover, both boys were standing and guiding me towards the glass screen door. "Come on, pretty girl, let's take this inside," Matt whispered with his arm around my waist. We all stumbled into my room and they both laid me down on my bed. They both stood at the foot of my bed and stripped away the top layers of their clothes, unbuckling their belts, shedding off their pants and their sweaters, until they were each in white tank tops and boxers. I could tell how hard they both were, and a wet spot on the front of Matt's blue underwear indicated to me he might have already cum from making me cum earlier. "Which one of us do you want first?" They practically asked in unison. I had started the night off wanting Chris originally, and I still definitely did, but my gaze rested on Matt, and I bit my lip. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still disoriented and thinking about what that man had just done to me with his tongue. Who knows what he could do to me with other parts of his body?

"I think you should go first," Chris said, smiling at his brother, picking up on the way I was hungrily staring at Matt. Matt took off his tank top and his boxers, and I admired the way his rod sprung out of them. "Lay back, baby. I'm gonna make you feel amazing," Matt muttered, leaning in and kissing me. Chris pulled my desk chair around to the side of the bed, so he could watch. He sat down in it and pulled his dick out of his underwear. As Matt entered me with his throbbing cock, I watched as Chris spit into his hand and started massaging his own. Chris was spending a lot of attention running his thumb over the slit of his swollen tip. I watched him throw his head back and moan. Matt started off slow, whispering to me every few minutes, "That's my good girl. Take that cock." It took me a few minutes to get used to the thickness, but it started feeling so good so fast. "Oh Matt, you're doing so good," I whimpered as he hit my g spot over and over again, and he moaned at the praise I gave him.

Chris kept his eyes on us while he pumped his length with his hand. Chris leaned over, and I watched as he let a strand of his saliva fall from his mouth and land on the head of his aching cock. I turned my attention back to Matt, whose expression was overwhelmed by pleasure. He looked deep into my eyes while he fucked me. "You like watching Chris touch himself while I pound you, don't you princess?" Matt said, running his thumb along my cheek. I bit my lip to supress a moan, and I nodded. Matt felt so good inside me, the way his strokes were slow but incredibly powerful. Every time he slammed into me, I felt myself get closer and closer. He had me a helpless, moaning mess beneath him. Matt slipped a finger into my mouth. I accepted his finger and gently sucked on it. Both Matt and Chris moaned at this. "I can't take it anymore, Matt," I said in a breathy voice, tears starting to form from how much pleasure I was experiencing. Matt smiled at how much I was loving it and pounded me harder. "Show me how good I make you feel, princess. Come on, I know you can. Make a mess on my dick, please," Matt whispered, looking into my eyes, one hand resting on my face.

That familiar feeling in my stomach arose again. I felt myself tighten around Matt, and as I came all over his cock with a yelp, I watched a stream of cum erupt from Chris' swollen member. He shot his load onto his stomach while he squirmed beneath his own touch, and it was accompanied with him groaning "fuck..." He pumped the last few drops of cum onto his hand while he slowed down his stroke, wincing at how sensitive he now was. Just then, Matt rolled his eyes back into his head and an expression of pleasure overcame his face. He pulled out and with a final whimper and shot his load all over my stomach. They both looked so relieved, and I could only imagine how much they were, because they'd been playing the long game, focusing on my satisfaction over and over again throughout the night before tending to their own. What gentlemen. Matt leaned down and kissed me passionately. "You did so good, princess," he whispered into my ear, and he reached down to retrieve his tank top, which he cleaned me off with.

"Do you need a break for a second before I bend you over?" Chris asked me, getting up from the chair, removing his boxers all the way. "Mhmmm," I nodded, breathlessly. "Well isn't that a shame," Chris smiled at me. "Get on your hands and knees now," he demanded, and even though I was exhausted, I listened to him. Matt sat at the edge of the bed as Chris came around behind me. He smacked my ass hard, definitely the same hand that had slapped my ass earlier in the night, which made me jump again, and he muttered, "Do exactly as I say, baby." With no warning, Chris rammed into me, and Matt watched intently as he started playing with himself as well. Chris fucked me hard and relentlessly even thought I was tight and swollen, and I was surprised at how well I handled it. Hell, I loved it. "Arch your back for me, darling," Chris ordered, grabbing a handful of my hair, and I did as he said. Chris' grunts were louder and more aggressive than Matt's, and he was definitely rougher than Matt, but I loved taking them both equally.

After Chris released my hair, Matt caressed my cheek again with his free hand, which was becoming one of my favorite things, and whispered, "You look so beautiful right now." I couldn't help but to stare at Matt's dick up close. It looked a lot like Chris', but it was veinier, and I loved watching his fingers curl around his shaft while he stroked himself to the sight of me and Chris. I felt Chris thrust into me harder and faster than before, and my legs started to shake. "That's it, be a good girl and cum on my cock," Chris grunted, and his words sent me over the edge. Again. I felt myself clamp down around him as he talked me through my orgasm. The whole time Matt didn't take his eyes off mine. Although Matt's strokes were long and slow, I watched as his seed flowed out of him. He threw his head back, opened his mouth and let out a soft whimper.

Once he'd finished, he reached out his finger that was covered in his cum and held it up to my mouth. I accepted it once again, and he smiled devilishly at me as I sucked his finger clean. He tasted so sweet. Watching me lick the juices off his brother's finger had an effect on Chris he couldn't control, and I heard as he groaned "fuck" once again under his breath, and I felt him pull himself out of me. I looked back as Chris came into his hand again, a few drops leaking onto my sheets and onto the back of my leg.

"Holy shit," Chris said wiping his forehead and trying to catch his breath. Being the gentlemen they were, Matt tossed Chris a piece of clothing and he cleaned up my leg for me. We were all exhausted, but Matt offered to run the shower for us all, and Chris offered to help me strip the bed and change my sheets once we were all cleaned up.

The shower was big enough for all three of us to stand under the flow of hot water, and Chris and Matt took turns running their soapy hands all over my body, cleaning up the messes they had made on me. They both told me how pretty I was and how much fun they had and said they'd love to do it again some time. We all got out of the shower, dried off, and I let Chris and Matt wear some of my oversized sweatshirts and pajama pants.

As soon as Chris and I started removing my soiled bedsheets, I heard a loud knock at the door. "Who's that?" I whispered to myself, glancing at the clock that was just a few minutes shy of midnight. I walked out into the living room, the boys followed me over to the door, and I opened it. Nick was standing in the doorway. "Oh my god, Nick! What are you doing here?" I exclaimed. "Do any of you answer your phones?" He asked. "I've been calling all three of you for the past hour. I had an uber drop me off, because I figured this is where you guys went since you didn't come home from the club. What were you guys doing that was more important than taking MY calls?" The three of us looked around at each other, and then all at the same time, Matt said, "watching TV," Chris said, "smoking weed," and I said, "showering."

Nick looked around at us all skeptically, all in my clothes with our wet hair. "What were you guys really doing?!" As Nick stepped into the living room, the bra I was wearing earlier that Chris had carelessly thrown on the floor of the balcony caught his eye. "Oh my god you guys are disgusting!" He shouted, putting all the pieces together. "All three of you?!" Nick's jaw dropped, he pointed at the three of us, and Matt, Chris, and I all turned a bright shade of red. We looked at each other smugly before erupting into laughter. "Fine, you caught us," Matt said, biting his lip, replaying the night we had just had in his head. "Just don't go in my room. I have a lot of evidence to clean up still," I giggled, embarrassed that there was no way to lie myself out of this one.

[dj-of-the-coven]

trigun 1998 episode simulator

[3 minutes of guitar solo]

Vash the Stampede: hi my name is Vash the Stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love. all I really want to do is have a sandwich and a morning coffee without getting chased by bandits

some bandit: (gunshot) absolutely not. square up faggot

Vash: rats.

[gunfight]

Vash the Stampede: my name is Vash the stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love.could I please have a sandwich

Meryl from the Bernardelli Insurace Society: how long are you going to sit on your ass doing nothing but playing games with children and doing chores for the elderly and disabled and looking after lonely youths and cooking dinner for the homeless

Vash: I've been here for like 2 days

Milly Thompson: Hi Vash!

Vash: Hi Milly

[exit left pursued by bounty hunters]

Vash the Stampede: (panting, entering a bar) my name is Vash the stampede.... I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Good L*rd what is going on in here

Hostage: mphdsfhapff!!!! mffmpphhf!!!!

Villain of the week: well if it isn't the elusive Vash the Stampede! you see it all started when I was 4 days old and you kicked me like a football and then exploded my parents to death with a laser canon and killed every puppy in a ten ile (translator's note: this is the No Man's Land equivalent of the American Mile) radius

Vash: I don't remember doing that but well I suppose you can shoot me if it'll make you feel better

Side character of the week: Are you insane? Just shoot him instead???

Vash: but my mom told me not to be mean to people

Villain of the week: (still going) And as I am now 47 years old I have finally decided to get my revenge. Say your prayers, Vash the Pisshead

[Wall explodes and reveals a motorcycle with a sexy priest on it]

[sfx: guitar with a hint of electric distortion]

Vash: is that..... Wolfwood?

Meryl who was in the background this whole time: the priest?

Nicholas Dickolas Wolfwood: (brings his fingers up to a pair of luscious lips to grab the cigarette from right between them, taking one more slow inhale before crushing the cherry red underneath his heel)(sensually cocks one of his 8 guns) Are you just gonna let this guy talk down to you like that needle noggin?

Vash: I g-

[guitar riff bumper]

[guitar riff bumper]

Vash: -uess not, since you're here to help now... (slow, warm smile) Wolfwood

Nicholas D. ranged Wolfwood: Vash

Milly who was also in the background this whole time: Hi mr priest man! isn't this lovely, I haven't seen you since the last time you spoke with mr Vash yesterday evening when you were helping him buckle all those silly belts on his pants after he had lost them somehow

Vash: On a cactus

Milly: On a cactus! Oh it must've hurt so terribly; how fortunate that Mr Priest man was there to help you

Wolfwood: Hi Milly

[gunfight]

Villain of the week: ohhhhh curses!!! CURSES!!!! I have spent my whole existence getting ready to fight Vash the Stampede but he's just too good at swallowing all my bullets!!!!!!

Vash the Stampede: my tragic dead mother would be sad if I didn't swallow everyone's bullets so I've trained diligently every morning at digesting gunpowder without dying immediately

Wolfwood: [internally: I can't believe it. All this time I've spent walking the path of darkness, reaching to a pure light that I could never grasp, and yet here is a man who's dedicated his life and his body to the pursuit of Peace. I wish he were a woman so I could fuck him romantic style. I've got a whole plan for it and everything. Whiskey, sunset, a bed with no sand in it, 6 hours. This would be fully and completely possible if only he were a woman. Unfortunately he's not, but I can still think about the what-ifs. platonically of course. Maybe if he got some good dick he'd stop being so annoying. And maybe he'd stop making me rethink my morals. I wonder if the seven drunken handies meant anything to him. Platonically]

Wolfwood: Well anyway it looks like my job is done here

Vash: (teary) Will I see you again?

Wolfwood: I don't know. And besides, whenever I look at you, I'm reminded of everything I hate about myself. You know, it hurts.

[exit Nicholas D. Wolfwood pursued by repressed homosexual desires and immense catholic guilt]

Vash the Stanned Peat: (looking out the window like a widow whose husband was killed in action) Nicholas... D... Wolfwood.......

Meryl who was in the background that entire time, yes, the whole time: shut the fuck up already

Vash: when will it be my turn Meryl. When

[roll credits]

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part three | r.c

summary:

“Are you crazy?” he asked, his voice suddenly all breathy. “I’m still worked up off of Monique last week. I will literally cum the second you put your mouth on me.”

“Don’t mention Moany while I have your dick in my hand.”

“Technically-”

Rafe broke off when you lifted your head, raising a brow at him.

“A’ight, precious, I didn’t say nothin’.”

OR; You and Rafe move in unfamiliar territory

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+ MDNI! p in v, oral sex (female receiving)

word count: 2,4k

author's note: uhm.... this is basically just porn. yeah. also can't believe that the first time i post rafe smut is part of this series lmaoooo. happy reading, i hope you love it <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. three: "a dwindling mercurial high"

Pulling away for a second, Rafe tugged his shirt off, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder, before his hands were already back on you, helping you out of your top and letting it drop on the floor. Even though you just lost an item of clothing, you still felt so hot, and it didn’t help that Rafe’s eyes immediately zeroed in on your chest. But before either of you could get carried too far away, you stopped, heaving breaths.

“Wait.”

“What?” Rafe asked, fingers playing with the straps of your bra, eager to take it off.

“We’re not having sex on the couch.”

He sat back, as if just realizing you were still in the living room. “Right, shit. Sorry.”

Before you could ask what he was sorry for, he looped his arm around your waist, easily picking you up and if you weren’t already wet, your panties would be drenched by now. Your legs hooked around his side, as if you had done it a million times before, clinging to him as he carried you upstairs into his bedroom. Without much ado, he tossed you on the bed, and you yelped, glaring at him.

“Is this how you treat all the girls?”

Rafe grinned at you, kneeing on the bed and tugging your shorts and panties down in one go, thumb stroking your inner thigh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it,” he promised, and before you could say anything, his face was already between your legs, tongue delving between your folds.

“Fuuuuck.”

Your hands dove into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp as he ate you out, the pad of his thumb pressing onto your bundle of nerves like there was no tomorrow. God, you really missed this, missed some good oral sex, because for some reason, your exes either refused to go down on you or were terrible at it. But Rafe? Rafe was excellent. And you weren’t surprised.

Lips parted, to let out small, breathy moans, which turned into a groan when Rafe slowly pushed a finger into you.

“Shit, give a girl a warning,” you gasped out, your hips arching from the bed, but Rafe pushed it back down easily with one hand, grinning up at you.

“I did. Told you I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?” He asked, lazily pumping his finger in and out and if you weren’t rolling your eyes out of pleasure, you’d be rolling them out of annoyance. Beads of sweat were rolling down your temple as Rafe added a second finger, your toes curling as he added a third. It didn’t take long for you to feel the warm, familiar sensation of an orgasm building in your stomach and let out a soft moan, causing Rafe to look at you, eyebrow raised.

“I’m so close Rafe,” you whined, voice breathless.

“Yeah? Are you going to cum for me?”

“Just shut up and put your mouth to better use!” You huffed, pushing his head down towards your cunt. You could feel him chuckling against your skin, but he obeyed your orders anyways. He brought his mouth down, sucking on your clit, his fingers never stopped moving. You let out a gasp, feelings the knot uncoiling, so close.

“Yes, so close,” you moaned, hands dropping on the mattress, fingers curling around the bedsheets, your hips arching off the bed when your orgasm finally washed over you, Rafe’s name leaving your lips like a prayer.

“Fuck that was hot,” he muttered, licking his fingers clean like he just finished the meal of his life. You let your head fall back on the pillow, letting out a breath, your eyes fluttering close.

“Did I wear you out already?” Rafe asked, leaning up to place a rather soft kiss on your lips. You huffed, kissing him back before pulling away, peeking an eye open at him.

“Don’t ruin it by opening your mouth.”

The corner of Rafe’s mouth quirked up, and he pushed your sweaty hair out of your face. “Are you always this mean to guys you have sex with?” The way he looked at you made your cheeks heat up, despite the fact that he was just between your legs.

“No. Just you.”

Rafe opted against replying, only grinning, leaning up to reach behind your back to finally unclasp your bra, which you glad let fall off your shoulders. He didn’t waste any time to put his mouth on one of your tits, his hand on the other, kneading it gently, his fingers rolling your nipple, while his tongue laved around the other, until it turned into a stiff peak.

“I can’t believe it took you this long to show me your tits,” he said, leaving a wet trail of kisses on your chest. You let out a breathy moan, giving him a look.

“Why the fuck would I have shown you my tits?”

“Why not?”

You pushed him on the forehead gently, so he’d fall back on his back, a crease forming on his forehead, and you could tell he was not done playing with your tits, but this was your turn. Now it was you who was getting between his legs, pulling his shorts down, hand immediately palming his erection through his boxers. “Can I blow you?”

“Are you crazy?” he asked, his voice suddenly all breathy. “I’m still worked up off of Monique last week. I will literally cum the second you put your mouth on me.”

“Don’t mention Moany while I have your dick in my hand.”

“Technically-”

Rafe broke off when you lifted your head, raising a brow at him.

“A’ight, precious, I didn’t say nothin’.”

Slowly, you tugged his boxers off, not quite sure what to expect. Your jaw did drop when you saw his cock sprang free, bouncing off his abdomen.

“Shit.”

You didn’t have to look at Rafe to know he had a shit eating grin on his face, he was your best friend after all. You knew him like the backside of your hand.

“Do you have a condom?”

“In the top drawer, can’t miss it,” Rafe said and you leaned over the bed to open the drawer. “The XXL ones.”

“Oh my god, literally shut up,” you groaned, fishing a red foiled packet out of the drawer, shutting it close again. Settling back between his legs, you were about to open the foil, when you noticed the look on his face.

“What?”

Rafe only shrugged, running a hand through his hair and you gave him a look.

“Rafe, what?”

“You’re gonna yell at me.”

You followed his eyesight to the condom, before you realized what he didn’t want to say. “You want to do it without a condom?”

He shrugged again.

“Rafe, you have sex with like ten girls a week.”

“Are you slut shaming me right now, precious?” Rafe asked with a snort. “I never fuck anyone without a condom and you know I get tested regularly. And I trust you. You’re on the pill, right?”

You shifted on your knees, contemplating his suggestion. You usually had sex without condoms becuase you liked it better that way, but you were afraid that one less layer between you and Rafe would change even more between the two of you. And yes, you realized how stupid it sounded.

Rafe interpreted your silence as turning his suggestion down, wrapping his hand around your thigh. “’s fine. Let’s use a condom.”

“No, I’m good. I was just thinking,” you assured him, tossing the packaged condom on the drawer. “I trust you.”

“Are you sure?”

You tried to ignore how concerned Rafe was looking and you nodded, wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Yes.”

“Shit okay,” Rafe groaned, bucking his lips a little. You gave his cock a few good pumps, anticipation building in you, before you crawled over him until you were hovering just over the tip. Rafe’s hands found their place on your waist and you felt him squeezing you as you slowly lowered yourself on his cock, the both of you moaning out.

“Fuck.”

You gave yourself a second to adjust, mostly due to his sheer size, but also because you felt like you had to take a second. This was Rafe. Your best friend. For some reason, you thought this had to feel weird, but all you could think about was how right it felt.

“You good?” Rafe asked, his voice tight.

You exhaled, nodding, before started to move up and down on his cock, movement fluid from your slick and his precum, your hands leaning on his chest.

“Shit, precious.”

Your cheeks flamed, hearing the familiar nickname being used in such an unfamiliar setting with Rafe. Terrified that you were wearing your emotions on your face, you leaned further forward so he couldn’t see your face, while simultaneously giving yourself more space to move. Soon, the bedroom filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, coupled with both your and Rafe’s moans, as the two of you found your rhythm.

Rafe was right, the sex with him was amazing, because of the two of you just worked. He knew just the right moment to snap up his hips to hit the right spot as you rode him, knew how to guide your waist on his cock and when your hips started to stutter, Rafe didn’t hesitate to flip you over, laying you on your back.

“Hey, I wasn’t done,” you protested breathlessly, hair fanning around his pillow. Rafe scoffed, lining up his cock, sliding in, before he pounded into you, holding into the headboard as it kept banging against the wall. Gasping, your eyes rolled back, as Rafe kept fucking into you, your eyes fluttering open when you noticed him getting closer to you, his breath hot on your face as he panted.

“You were saying?”

“Shut up,” you moaned, pulling him down to kiss him, bringing his body closer, his movements never stopping. Slowly, you could feel another orgasm build up, your toes curling. It must have shown on your face, because Rafe pinched your nipple, his cock driving in and out of you.

“You close?”

Nodding, you let out a soft moan, arching your back a little, yearning for your orgasm, even though you had just cum not that long ago,

“M’too,” he groaned, his hips stuttering. He reached down, applying pressure in circular motions against your bud with his finger, keeping fucking into you.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you whined, nails digging into his shoulders, “Yes, yes, yes, fuck, Rafe!”

“Can I?” he breathed out, his face contorting, and you only nodded, muttering a soft yes, before he finished inside of you, and when you felt his warm come spurt into, you reached your peak, your breath stuttering out as you came, body arching off of the mattress, before you slumped back down, exhausted. Carefully, Rafe pulled out, flopping down on the bed next to you, catching his breath.

“Fuck,” he said, pushing his hair out of his face, glancing over to you. “Wait, let me grab a towel.”

You didn’t even have any energy to protest as Rafe got up to pad to the bathroom. Your eyes were shut as you recovered from your orgasm, before realization suddenly hit you.

You just had sex with Rafe.

Your best friend, Rafe.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, rubbing your hands all over your face. It wasn’t like you regretted it per se, you just wasn’t sure if this was the smartest move to do.

It didn’t take long for Rafe to return, having put on some boxers somewhere on the way to the bathroom. He knelt down on the bed, careful to wipe the cum off of you, and you winced when he brushed over your still sensitive cunt.

“Relax, I know what I’m doing,” he said, pressing a soft kiss on your inner thigh. And he wasn’t lying. His hands were gentle as they moved over your lower body, applying soft pressure with the wet cloth where it was needed to clean you off.

“Who knew you were so gentle with your sex partners,” you teased, leaning on your elbows to watch him. Rafe’s cheeks tinged pink and he tossed the dirty towel into the hamper after he was done.

“Shut up.”

He reached over to the side to hand you his shirt, and you pulled it over your head, glancing around, eyes squinted.

“Where did you toss my panties?”

“Uh…” Rafe looked around, before pausing, picking up your panties from the floor at the end of the bed. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” you snorted, putting your panties back on, before you got off the bed. Rafe watched with careful eyes, scratching his head.

“You’re seriously not still going home, are you precious?”

“Rafe,” you sighed, giving him a look. “I need to pee.”

“Right, sorry.”

You shook your head in amusement, before making your way to the bathroom, the nickname ringing in your head. As you did your business on the toilet - since you did not want to end up with an UTI - you wondered if you could get Rafe to stop calling you precious during sex. It just felt weird, like a permanent reminder that you were still just his best friend.

With the difference that you were having sex now, that is.

Flushing the toilet, you went to the sink, washing your hands and frowned at your reflection in the mirror, before calling out his name.

“Hey, can you maybe not call me precious while we’re fucking?”

He didn’t say anything and you weren’t sure if he fell asleep, so you tiptoed into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway when you saw him look at you with an odd look on his face, halfway tucked into bed.

“Why?”

You shrugged with your shoulders, feeling like he was staring you down, so you crawled under the blankets on the left side of the bed.

This? This felt like familiar territory. You had spent countless nights sleeping in the same bed as Rafe. But everything before that? Terribly unfamiliar.

“I don’t know, it’s weird.”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Sure precious,” he said, leaning over to the nightstand to shut the light off, basking you in darkness.

“Whatever you want.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: thoughts?