#as you can see i watched mouthwashing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

giuliettagaltieri · 4 months ago

Text

Not Your Girl

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: You opened your eyes

Warning: Angst, fighting, injuries

Word Count: 2209

Inspired by this ask

“God, Y/N. I’m fine.” Rafe pulls your hand from his collar. But you click your tongue at him.

“Come on, I promise you look better with it folded properly.”

Rafe glances at his watch. “We’re running late.”

“Who cares?” You mutter as you straighten the creases of his shirt.

“I do.” He snaps before grabbing hold of your wrist and dragging you out of his room, not letting go until you are standing right next to his car. He opens the door for you and taps his foot as he waits for you to get inside but your steps are too slow with you checking your bag for necessities.

“Tylenol. Mouthwash. First aid kit.” You look up from your bag. “You still have our extra clothes in your trunk, right?”

“Yes.” He spoke impatiently, his bored stare sharpening.

When you finally get inside, he slams the door extra loud, startling you, but you shrug as you fasten your seatbelt.

Rafe jams the key in and ignites the engine. He’s about to step on the pedal when you place a hand on his chest.

“Seatbelt.” You smile sweetly and he bites back a retort, only choosing to roll his eyes and fix his seatbelt.

“Happy?” He spoke sardonically and you scan your eyes over him and grin.

“Yes. Just remember not to go over the speed limit.”

This is why he didn’t like to invite you to parties. You act like a mother hen, and him, your baby chick.

You are glued to his side the whole time. He understands this behavior back when you were six, but you’re fucking adults now, when are you gonna grow out of this?

With you by his side, he can’t score on some chicks. Them thinking that you’re his girl, thus extending his dry spell.

But there’s that new girl by the punch tables. Standard hot girl, lean, tanned, long legs, and bleached hair. She’s shyly looking at him, but she’s not exactly being discreet either.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” He pries your fingers one by one from his arm.

“I can come with you.” You suggest hopefully but he’s already heading to the punch table. You head to the side, sitting on an old and broken down cobblestone wall as the night breeze nips your skin. Just smiling and nodding at the people you know while watching the rest of them have fun.

The party is in full blast. There’s a lot of Tourons joining the party too.

You wonder what’s taking Rafe so long.

Deciding it was best to go look for him, you get up from your seat. You brush the dust off your shorts as you tighten the button up that you stole from Rafe’s closet around your body.

Just as you start looking for him, you notice hurried footsteps and cheers from one side of the party. A guy bumps into you but he quickly hooks an arm on your waist to keep you from falling.

“Oops.” He laughs. “Sorry, Y/N!” It was JJ and you watched him run with the others.

“What’s going on?” You mutter.

You hear a sigh next to you and you turn to see Sarah and Kie, looking at the gathered crowd in disappointment. Sarah turns to you with a tired face. “Rafe got in a fight with a Touron.”

They look at you in pity as horror crosses your face. As you run to the fight, they shake their heads. You’re too good for this world.

You run as fast as your legs can carry you, hands pushing people away just to get through.

When you finally do, you see Rafe with a busted lip, his chest squared up and heaving as he looks at his opponent who is barely standing, leaning his weight on some girl you don’t recognize. His face was red in certain places, his eyelids swollen, two nostrils bleeding. Is he missing a tooth? Good God.

Rafe was yelling insults, how this is his island, he’s about to march over when you throw yourself on him, arms tightly wrapping around his torso to keep him from moving.

“Y/N! Fucking let go!” He grips your arms tightly, adrenaline clearly coursing through his veins.

“No! That’s enough!” You say sternly as you bunch his shirt on your fist. “We should go. Please!”

Rafe scoffs. “I said, let go!”

When you only tighten your grip, he curses and throws the guy one last glare before dragging you with him back to his car.

“What were you thinking, beating up that guy?” You say in disbelief as you make him lean against the hood of his car while you dig through your purse.

He curses at you when you dab a wet wipe on his lip.

“If you don’t get in stupid fights, I won’t have to clean you up now, will I?” You reply angrily before slapping his hand away and dabbing gently. You play oblivious to his searing glare. Trying to ignore his hisses when you accidentally dab too roughly.

“Why’d you decide to make that guy a punching bag, anyway?” You ask while smearing a disinfectant ointment on his wound. Your heart beating wildly at your close proximity.

Rafe clicks his tongue. “His girl was flirting with me.”

You look at him in disappointment, making his blood boil. He hates receiving that look, it reminds him of how he constantly fails his father.

“You must have encouraged her too.” You really don’t know when to stop.

“Shut up, alright?” He pushes past you. “It’s not like I knew she had a fucking boyfriend.”

You sigh as you tidy up your kit. Rafe opens the door for you and you take your time in getting in.

“Why’d you have to flirt with all the girls at every party? Can you think with your mind next time and not with your dick?” You mutter under your breath as you glare at nothing in particular, upset that he’s got himself into trouble, and upset that it’s because of a girl. Again.

“That’s it.” Rafe slams the door before you can take a step in, the impact makes you gasp, your fingers nearly crushed by the door. Your eyes are wide and afraid as you look at him. He backs you up until your back is flushed against the door. He rests an arm over your head, as he points a finger dangerously close to your face.

“Rafe-”

“I’m fucking done with your bullshit.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “If you think you have the right to speak to me this way, let me tell you something. You don’t.”

You bite your lower lip, eyes turning glassy as you fight the urge to cry. “I’m just concerned.” Whatever immunity you thought you had from his anger crumbles like sand on the palm of your hand. You’re no exemption from his outbursts, apparently. You’re just like everybody to him.

“I didn’t ask for your concern.” He laughs dryly. “And I don’t care about your stupid crush on me, either.”

Your lips part as you blanch, looking at him in embarrassment and frustration. Your palms sweat as your fingers twitch, wanting nothing else but to get swallowed by the earth.

“Yeah. You think I don’t know about your feelings for me?” He laughs at you before he slams a fist on his car, making you scream and cover your ears in fear. “It’s kinda cute, you know. Watching you chase after me, clean after me, do everything I say like a pathetic puppy waiting for a treat.”

Something inside you snaps. “Stop talking.” You hiccup, tears dripping down your cheeks.

Huh, it’s been a while since he saw those tears.

“Why?” He asks in feign concern. “Am I hurting your feelings?”

“Yes.” You say shamelessly, making him scoff. “I just wanna go home, please,”

Mascara has ruined your pretty makeup, tears wetting your cheeks as your hair sticks on your temples, making you look disheveled and wrecked.

Rafe looks at you blankly as he runs a tongue on his tooth. “Fine.” He runs a hand over his face as he attempts to calm his breathing. He’s tired of your bullshit for today, he’ll deal with you tomorrow. “Let’s get you home.”

He opens the door for you and you get in without sparing him a glance, your shaking hands quickly fastening the seat belt. Rafe looks at you in silence but your eyes are dropped to your feet, adamant on not looking at him.

“You crybaby.” He spoke lowly and you closed your eyes. “Get it through your dumb head, alright? I don’t fucking like you.”

You whimper, arms wrapping around yourself as you shrink away from him.

“Stop doting on me like we’re dating.” He continues. “You’re fucking embarrassing.”

“Just take me home, please.” You sob and for a moment he feels the need to wipe your tears but he stops himself, a frown creases in his brows.

“And don’t fucking boss me around. You’re not my mom.” He slams the door and the rest of the drive is filled with nothing but your sniffles.

The thing about Rafe Cameron is that he’s impulsive. Always speaking his mind without thinking of the consequences. He is very quick to anger yet very quick to calm down after the stimulus vanishes from his line of sight.

You can’t keep up with the shift of his emotions throughout the ride. With him honking at every driver in front of him then suddenly nudging you and pointing at something down the street, laughing like he didn’t just murder you inside. He really doesn’t understand what he’s done. He’s a child and you wanna strangle yourself for ever letting yourself love a man like him.

“Shit, Y/N, calm down.” He groans as he parks outside your house.

You attempt to open the door but he clicks the lock in place.

“Let me out.” You whimper.

He rests his elbow against the door and scratches his chin. “Not until you calm down.”

“I’m calm.” You respond in a shaking voice.

“Uhuh.” He hums as he rakes his eyes over your face. “Can’t take a rejection, princess?”

You don’t respond, hands tightening over your bag.

“We’re not in fucking elementary school anymore.” He props his head against his knuckles as he grins at you. “And I’m not Rafey anymore.”

“I know.” You spoke harshly as your bloodshot eyes stared forward.

He chuckles. “Good, that’s good.”

“Yes. The ‘Rafey’ I know would never hurt me like this. You’re not him, not anymore.” You stare at him blankly. “He’s gone and I can see that now.”

Rafe straightens up in his seat, biting his cheek as he nods at you, though his mind is still trying to wrap around your words.

“Right. It’s good that you get it now.” But why does he suddenly regret all this?

He’s been trying to get you to understand this for the longest time. And now that you finally do, all the challenge between you is gone, and he is lying if what is going to happen after this does not make him anxious. Is this another one of your reverse psychology tricks? You know it always worked on him.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and he clears his throat, swiftly opening his door and races to your side but you beat him to it. He swallows thickly as he shoves his sweating palms in his pocket.

Rafe walks you to your gate but you don’t acknowledge him, even if he pushes the gates open for you. He tries to catch your eyes but he starts to bleed with the background around you, no longer relevant enough to be looked at.

When you lock the gates, he leans on it and watches you turn away and head to your house. Leaving without the usual cheek kisses and “see you laters”

He clears his throat. “Uh…so, tomorrow?” A desperate attempt to keep you with him a little longer.

You pause and you turn to look at him with your face cold and hard, so devoid of emotions. He never thought you’d be capable of holding such a look. “What about tomorrow?”

He grips on the thin metal of your gate, the weathered paint chipping and clinging to his palms. “You said you wanted to check out the ice cream parlor that just opened?” He adds the charming smile he knows you like but your face remains blank.

“I changed my mind.” You start to walk away again but he calls your name and you look at him with a small frown on your eyebrows. You really wanted nothing to do with him anymore, huh?

“I’ll call you later?”

“What for?” You cross your arms and for the first time, he is rendered speechless, his tongue heavy as he racked his brain for a response.

You’re right, what for?

Rafe shrugs while he tugs at his collar. “I don’t know. Don’t you like it when we call?”

You sigh. “Goodbye, Rafe.”

He watches you leave and he tightens his grip on the gate, making the metal dig on his palms.

“Goddammit!”

He messed up. He messed up real bad. And he’s not sure he can still fix this.

Not Her Man • His Girl

#rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #obx #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey #rafe angst #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #childhood friend!reader

2K notes · View notes

stoopidpigeonxx · 15 days ago

Text

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑶 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝑴𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏. ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆

CAPTAIN CURLY SMUT HEADCANNONS !! NSFW under the cut. MDNI.

(These are all completely random, not tied to any prompt. I just want more stuff about this guy cuz I love him) Fandom/characters: Mouthwashing, Captain Curly, other characters briefly mentioned.

Content warning: Smut (obviously), p in v, curlys packing, title kink, thigh-riding, face-sitting, size difference, manhandling, reader is AFAB, creampie, multiple rounds, riding, cursing, J*mmy.

-He's a grower, not a shower.

I firmly believe Curly is a distinguished gentleman, unlike J*mmy who would most likely brag about how big he is and end up only being like, 5 or 6 inches. Curly, however, will not mention his size until you see it for yourself. And when he sees your face, he panics. "Oh-shit, uh- i-is it gonna be too big for you? It's okay if it is, I should've warned you.."

He's four inches soft, uncut. I think he keeps himself decently groomed. He's not completely bare, but it isn't a forest. He's got a little v-line that's only visible when he wears sweatpants that you go absolutely feral over. When he gets hard, whoo boy. 9 inches, throbbing. He's got a cute little vein near his tip that you like to attack when you're sucking him off because it makes his thighs shake. He's got a little bit of a mushroom tip, maybe more rounded. Perfect for hitting all those good spots inside you. In short, he's big. (he tucks it, that's why he doesn't have a bulge in his sprites. Also I'm sorry trans-Curly headcannon people ;-;)

-"Need a seat? I'll volunteer."

VEEEEEERRRYYY into face-sitting. Very. Like, the first thing he wants when you guys get freaky is for you to sit on his face. He's not exactly sure why he likes it, to be honest, he just loves the feeling of you absolutely lose yourself on his tongue. He isn't worried about suffocating or anything, since he's a lot bigger than you, so don't be afraid to ride his face! he can handle it! But seriously, use this guy as a seat. He'd give you a few licks up your slit at first to warm you up (again, gentleman) before going for your clit. And when he gets it, he sucks. Hard. He'd also probably sneak a finger or two inside you to add extra stimulation, because he really wants you to come on his face. He desperately yearns for the sound of you screaming his name as your juices cover his face and tongue, letting you ride your orgasm out before lifting you off his face and setting you down. "Alright, sweet-stuff, my turn. On your knees, please."

-Save a Polle, ride his big ass thighs.

So... we've all seen his sprite. He's thick as fuck. He's got a booty and bigger tits than me. But he also has deliciously large thighs.. so use that to your advantage, because he's totally down with it. He likes using it as foreplay to get you wet enough to take him, and he just likes the feeling. He'll probably give himself a hand while you're doing it, or he'll just watch and leave the touching to you.

He isn't much for public sex, but if you're really horny, he'll let you get high on his thigh over his uniform and gently praise you when you come. It gives him a little buzz to be doing something like that in a risky situation, like while he's in the cockpit sitting at the control panel, or even in the commons of the ship with Daisuke in a few rooms away. When you do come, which isn't that long after, he'll kiss you all over your face and head and twirl your hair in his fingers, using his other hand to rub your ass or back.

"There you go, sweetheart, that's a good girl. Good job."

-Sir yes sir.

I know, I know. He gets called 'Captain' and 'Sir' for his job. But if its coming from you when he's balls deep in you.. It's an entirely different reaction.

"D-did.. you just call me- mgh..- Captain?"

It makes him ferociously horny to hear that title slip from your lips, so pray you'll still walk tomorrow. "Ooh, fuck, yeahhh. Call me that again, baby. Call me that again.. Uh-huh. Captain takin' care of this pretty lil' pussy, huh.."

He doesn't dirty talk that explicitly, but you calling him captain gets his creative juices flowing. Oh, also his come. Yeah..

Its also perfect teasing material. You two couldn't even be getting it on, you'd just sneak up behind him and kiss him on the cheek and say "Morning, Captain!" In that tone you know drives him wild. Boom, hard. Poor guy.

-Yeehaw!

favorite position? Cowgirl. For many reasons. One, he loves looking at your face while you ride his cock. The noises, the facial expressions you make, the way your tits bounce up and down with your hips.. He wishes it was a renaissance painting to look at every morning. He also just likes being able to hold you easily. When you're on his lap, its easier for him to snake a hand up and hold your hair out of your face, or to give your ass gentle love taps (he would never spank you, unless asked to). He's a very hands-on guy and wants to touch you, everywhere he can.

Of course, he doesn't mind the occasional doggy, or missionary, or hell, even a Full Nelson, because you KNOW he's able to hold you like that. Manhandling comes naturally with Curly. Gently, of course. He would never hurt you.

-Gets a little messy.

Curly's no one pump chump. He'll go for hours. Even if he's came inside you at least five times, he'll keep going. He's got hella impressive stamina. His motivation? Seeing your cunt leaking his seed when he pulls out. He wants you to still find it in your underwear 3 days later. No hole goes unfilled. He's not exactly a breeder, per-say, though he definitely wouldn't complain about getting you pregnant, he just likes seeing you in a state. He thinks of it as artwork, leaving you so stuffed to the brim. The next day, he'd pull you aside and give you a quick finger-orgasm, just to see if his come's still in there. When it leaks onto his fingers along with your own, he's a very happy man. "Ahh, look at that. Still got it in ya. Should fill you up even more later, hm?"

oof. my hands hurt. ;-;

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing smut #headcannons #Captain curly #curly x reader #curly mouthwashing #tw jimmy #curly x reader smut #captain curly smut #mouthwashing game #pigeonfic⯎

727 notes · View notes

unveilandresist · 11 months ago

Text

by January 10th 1 in 3 people will have had this wave of covid. covid causes long term damage with each infection and wears down your immunity. you do not want this. there is no cure for long covid or me/cfs and there is a significant chance (last I checked I think it was 1/5 infections) of getting long covid that increases with each infection. please protect yourself and your loved ones by wearing a mask. variants have become more transmissible so a n95 or kn95 is the minimum protection to keep yourself reasonably safe(r) from getting covid.

it is important to understand often viruses do not simply clear up and go away. like chicken pox and shingles or what we now think of as polio that is actually post polio syndrome. polio symptoms were mild and 75% of cases are asymptomatic. we do not yet see the full scope of what this virus will do over our lifetimes. as someone who had my entire life derailed by me/cfs after having mono, (almost 10 years ago! it hasn't gotten better!) we have to take pathogens more seriously if we care about ourselves and our communities.

I'm willing and open to talk with people who want to understand better what covid does to our bodies and how we can best practice community care and also harm reduction if we're stuck in unsafe situations at home or work (certain mouthwashes and nasal sprays can help).

if you're watching what's happening in Palestine and live in the US, the government doesn't care about your life either. They lied about palestine and they lied about covid too. It is not just a cold.

#covid #solidarity #mutual aid #social justice #chronic illness #disability #me/cfs #chronic fatigue syndrome #mask up

3K notes · View notes

loulovingho · 2 months ago

Text

“Tommy!” Eddie cheered, lifting his drink toward the sky as he spotted his friend walking toward him. “Whatcha doin' here, Man?”

“Figured I'd stop by and see how you were doing, Bud,” Tommy replied. He gave Eddie a pat on the back as he sat down in the empty seat next to him. “You come here alone?”

“Mhm. Needed ta get out. House's too quiet.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Too long,” the bartender interrupted as he walked by. “Was about to cut him off. I already took his keys.”

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed, looking around the bar counter. “Hey! You took my keys.”

“I got him,” Tommy said, giving the bartender a nod. “I gotta say, at least you're talking better than you're texting. I was worried.”

Eddie's face scrunched up in confusion. “Huh? I never did texted you.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.” Tommy fished his phone out of his jacket pocket and went to his messages. “'Buuuuuuuck, lezz drink, Buddy.' Then five minutes later, 'Bruck, why rn't you at bar? I waiting.' A good two minutes after that you sent me your location with an angry emoji. Then, and this is my personal favorite, 'Loser too busy kissy kissy with Tummy to be a friendship.'”

"Huh. Thought I was textin' Buck.”

“Yeah, I pieced that together.”

“So where's Buck if you're not kissy kissy?” Eddie asked, his final drink sloshing over his fingers as he attempted to bring it to his lips.

Tommy took the drink from Eddie and set it back on the counter. “Evan is watching Jee overnight so Howie and Maddie can have a night away. So, you wanna talk about whatever's bothering you? I mean, I could take a guess, but...”

“Nah. No, no, nope. I wanna,” Eddie pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Lessgo karaoke, Tomboy-”

“We're not calling me that.”

“I wanna sing to the rooftops,” Eddie continued, his words slurring more and more with each sentence. “I wanna. I wanna be, you know, be free, Tommy. I don't have a rea-,” he hiccuped, “reason to get back home.”

“Really? Seems like that's exactly where you need to be right now.”

Eddie's eyes widened, like he'd thought of the best idea in the entire world. “Let's go to Peeping Tom! That's your name!”

“Peeping Tom is a gay bar, Eddie.”

“I don judge.”

“A very kinky, fully nude gay bar,” Tommy clarified.

Eddie squinted, deep in thought. “No karaoke?”

“No karaoke.”

“Well, then were we go? Don't say home!”

“Home.”

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned, allowing Tommy to wrap an arm around his back and help him up. “You're like a no- no fun dad. Wish I'd texted fun dad.”

Tommy gripped onto Eddie tighter as he stumbled while taking a step. He sighed. “Maybe next time.”

*****

When Eddie woke up the next morning it was to a pounding headache and blinding sunlight coming through his window. He was nauseous and his mouth tasted like a mixture of gasoline and mouthwash.

He laid there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what happened that made him feel so unbelievably ill.

After a few failed attempts, he finally rolled out of bed and made his way into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee.

He froze when he walked through the door to see Tommy sitting there, reading the newspaper.

“Good... morning?” Eddie started, confused.

Tommy set the paper down. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“I- I think so, I guess. It's a little blurry.”

Tommy hummed. “Not surprising. Coffee just finished, if you want some. Your couch is not comfortable, by the way.”

“Buck's never complained.”

“Yeah, well, he's easier to please than I am.”

Eddie was too hungover for this. He had so many questions, but for some reason the first one out of his mouth was: “Where'd you put my shoes?”

“In your closet.”

He grabbed himself a cup for some coffee. “My keys?”

“We have to go pick them up at the bar today, along with your car, obviously.”

“You didn't close my curtains last night. Woke up thinking I was being interrogated by Ice T.”

Tommy sighed, leaning back in his seat. “'Thank you so much for getting me home safely, Tommy. Did it hurt your back having to drag me into the house while I belted out Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of my lungs?'” He stood, walking over to Eddie and taking the coffee out of his hand, drinking a big sip. “Thank you for asking, Eddie. I think my back will be okay, but my ears will never recover.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, turning to fix himself another cup. “Thank you for getting me home safely, Tommy. I appreciate it.”

“Mhm. No problem.” Tommy returned to his seat and Eddie joined him at the table. They sat in silence for a couple minutes, taking small sips of their drinks.

Eventually, Tommy set his cup down a little harder than normal, getting Eddie's attention with the clinking sound. “Wanna talk about it?”

“About what? How your coffee tastes like cigarette sludge?”

“I'll take that as a no then.” Tommy checked his watch. “The bar doesn't open until three. Want me to stop by and pick you up then?”

Eddie shook his head. “I can just get an Uber, Man, thanks though.”

“Of course. I'll, uh, let you recover.” Tommy stood and went to leave, checking his pocket for his keys and phone.

As he neared the door, Eddie spoke. “Wait,” he said. Tommy turned back to face him.

“Yeah?”

“Why'd you sleep on my couch?”

“You're my friend,” he answered simply. “You drank a lot. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” He took a step back toward the table. “Are you okay?”

Eddie cradled the mug in his hands, watching the steam rise from the cup. “You don't... How long has it been? Since you talked to your dad?”

Okay, so Tommy wasn't leaving then.

He came to the table and sat down, taking a moment to think about Eddie's question. “About six years, I think.”

“What did he do?” He looked over at Tommy. “To make you stop talking to him, I mean. Unless you don't wanna get into it. In fact, forget it, I shouldn't-”

“Eddie, it's fine,” Tommy assured him. “I don't mind.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded, sitting up straighter. “So? What happened?”

“It wasn't just one thing,” Tommy explained. “It was a lifetime of things. He's... He's not a good man. I think the catalyst was about a year after I came out. I hadn't been home in awhile, so I decided to drive to his place one weekend. When he answered the door he said, 'What the hell are you doing here?' I told him I was coming to see him and he said, 'What's the damn point in that?' I thought about it for a second and realized that was a good question, so I turned around, got in my car, and left. Never looked back.” Eddie seemed to be contemplating his words, and Tommy could tell where this was going. “It's not the same thing, Eddie,” he said, beating Eddie to it.

“What if he doesn't come back? What I did, Tommy, it wasn't... It was bad.”

“You made a mistake.”

“I cheated on my girlfriend with a doppelganger of his mom, Tommy, and he caught me.”

“Granted, it was a big mistake,” Tommy deadpanned. “But, still a mistake. He'll come around. You gotta give him time.”

“People keep telling me that,” Eddie replied with an eye roll. “That he'll come around. But it's been months of nothing. And it seems like no matter what I do, it's not enough.”

“You're trying.”

Eddie huffed. “I'm not sure getting drunk alone at a bar is trying.”

“I think it shows you care, Eddie. And, yeah, that shouldn't become a habit, but you're allowed to be upset. You're allowed to hurt. You made a mistake, but you're a good dad and Christopher knows that. He will come around.”

“And if he doesn't?” Eddie asked, staring over at Tommy.

“Then you keep trying,” Tommy replied. “You never stop trying. Keep being there, keep sending him letters and getting him on Facetime. Go for a visit. Send him texts. I'm not saying you gotta smother him, but never let him forget that you're there. That's the biggest mistake you could ever make.”

“Yeah,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Yeah, you're right. I just... I gotta keep it up. Let him know I'm here, whenever he's ready.”

“Exactly.”

Eddie looked over at the clock on his stove, 11:32 staring back at him. He had no idea he'd slept so long. “Why don't you call Buck, see if he wants to come over and watch a game? Then you can drive me to my car.”

“Oh, you want me to call Evan? Don't you mean fun dad?” Tommy asked, eying Eddie.

It took him a minute, but the memory came back to him. “I did say that, didn't I?”

“You did,” Tommy confirmed. “Which I'm very offended by, by the way. I'm fun!”

Eddie sighed, his head drooping down. “I know you are.”

“I introduced you to karaoke trivia. I've flown you to Vegas.”

“I remember.”

“I never tried to seriously injure you in the name of love.”

“Which I'm very grateful for.”

“I don't have control issues when I have a clipboard in my hand.”

“Are you just gonna keep listing reasons why you're fun?”

“I once shoved three cupcakes in my mouth at once! Nearly choked to death, but Evan whacked me on the back and everything went down just fine.”

Eddie stood with his mug in hand, pointing toward the living room, “I'm gonna go to the couch. Get more comfortable.”

Tommy followed behind, pulling out his phone to call Buck. “I'll let Evan tell you who bowled a 230 last week. Hint: it was me!”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #platonic #eddietommy #evan is there is spirit #this is a little serious a little silly

704 notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 1 year ago

Text

✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body.

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal.

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock.

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.”

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?”

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell.

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride.

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.”

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base.

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise.

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks.

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!”

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms his hard and heavy cock as he pleases.

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears.

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires.

you think you prefer that side of you more.

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.”

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation.

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle.

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends.

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him.

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell.

that day, you learn two valuable lessons:

one — never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills.

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

5K notes · View notes

acepalindrome · 1 month ago

Text

I think Mouthwashing is more interesting/tragic/compelling when you read Curly as a most good intentioned person who did care about his crew, AND DID SOMETHING HORRIFICALLY INEXCUSABLY AWFUL, than a monster like Jimmy who didn’t seem to have any redeemable features that he didn’t fabricate for himself to try to play the hero.

Because sometimes people who do awful things aren’t monsters. They’re just people. Maybe nice people! Maybe people who generally mean well! But that doesn’t make them immune to making horrible decisions, doesn’t make them immune to hurting others, and certainly doesn’t excuse their actions. Curly was told about the dead pixel and he couldn’t see it, just wanted to focus on the ‘big picture,’ smooth things over, descalate a conflict. Except all that meant enabling a rapist who intentionally crashed their fucking ship to try to cover up his crime.

And if you read Curly as someone who is generally decent, that makes his place in the story even more tragic. Because a decent person can make a horrible mistake, but now he can’t do anything to fix it. He’s stuck being cared for by the person he failed the worst, the person he promised to help and fucking didn’t, and he can’t even apologize to her now. He just has to watch the results of his inaction play out in front of him, just lay there in the guilt that he allowed this to happen. That’s the true punishment.

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing spoilers #i see people say curly was as bad as jimmy #but isn’t it more painful if he’s not? if he’s decent enough to have guilt and regret for what he allowed to happen #because he didn’t want to rock the boat? because he wanted to look at the ‘big picture’?#guilt is a hell all it’s own

714 notes · View notes

darknight3904 · 2 months ago

Text

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘖𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘋𝘢𝘬𝘰𝘵𝘢, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 (2017). 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯 𝘝, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦. 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵 18+

𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥/ 𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 30𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4.8𝘬

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 / 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Laura is kind of cute. In her own feral, mannerless way. You watch as she downs her second slice of pizza.

"She's just like you." You grin and nudge Logan's side

"No, she's not." Logan shook his head

The two of you turn to watch her take a large bite of her third slice. Charles lets out a joy-filled laugh at whatever is on the TV behind you and Logan.

"How many have you had again?" You tease, you're pretty sure he's eaten at least five now. Logan had always had a big appetite. You presumed it had to do with his healing factor.

"Shut up."

Pizza devoured and stomachs full, you make Laura brush her teeth and teach her how to floss properly while Logan and Charles argue on the other side of the bathroom door. Logan is trying to get the old man ready for bed, but out of context the voices coming through the door would be considered rather concerning.

"No! I can pull my own pants off, Logan!" Charles' voice yells

"Do it then!" Logan growls back

"Not with you looking at me!"

"M' not looking!"

Laura looks up at you, concerned for the two men with quite the dynamic.

"They're fine. Don't worry bout' it." You assure her with a thin smile, "Now, it's time for the mouthwash."

You tuck Laura into bed. Initially, you weren't going to but the memories of the video you had watched with Logan invaded your mind again. Images of an even younger Laura on the operating table so adamantium could be fused to her bones. Empathy got the better of you as you brought the covers up to her chin and whispered goodnight.

You returned to the bathroom, intent on showering to see Logan staring at himself in the mirror.

"You okay?" You ask him

"Charles told me I looked like Eeyore," Logan says staring at his face

"Like...from Winnie the Pooh? The depressed donkey?" You ask, slapping your hand over your mouth to keep him from seeing your smile

"Yes. The depressed donkey." Logan huffs

An unlady-like snort escapes your mouth and your eyes widen when Logan's head snaps to look at you.

"S' not funny." He says a scowl on his handsome face.

"No, no it's not...." You take in his appearance, and for a split second, you see the faintest blush on his face.

"She in bed?" Logan asks

"Tucked her in and everything." You confirm

Logan raises a brow at that statement. He must not approve of your actions. It's not your fault your maternal instincts kicked in, after all, Laura was cute, in her own way.

Logan leaves the bathroom after lecturing you on not getting attached to her. That the Sunseeker was the end goal, not playing house with a kid made from his genes. You nodded your head and pushed him out of the way to get to the shower, tired of smelling like sweat and who knows what else.

The endless hot water felt amazing on your tired body as you indulged in the low-quality soap, shampoo, and conditioner that the hotel had bolted to the wall in plastic pump bottles. A heavy sigh left your lips as your eyes fluttered shut in the steam-filled room. Logan was going to drive you mad one day.

Logan closed his eyes and let the night breeze clear his mind. Sitting here on the balcony would be more relaxing without all the passing traffic, but it was good enough for now. Nearly 34 stories up he could still hear the honking of horns and chattering of people. He cursed his enhanced senses. Despite the late hour, the city didn't want to sleep.

He sipped at the bottle of Jack Daniels he had found in the limo under a seat. Miraculously no bullets had punctured it in their getaway. He knew he should be in bed, he needed sleep for the long drive that awaited him tomorrow. Yet, he found himself unable to crawl into bed. And not just because Charles mumbled in his sleep.

The idea of you was plaguing him like it often did. He wasn't blind, he knew about your little crush. He had clocked it a month after settling in Mexico. The way you'd wait at the front door, the hot meals, the questions, the way you'd agreeably become a human pillow and give him the best scalp massage in the world.

He'd be lying to himself if he didn't feel it as well. At first, he thought it was because he was so isolated from the rest of the world. But, he never found himself noticing another woman, not in the Casino today and certainly not in any of the rides he fulfilled for people. Even the stupid bachelorette parties when girls much younger than you flashed their chests to him. No matter how he tried to forget it all, his mind was filled with nothing but you.

Even now, he was sure you were the cause for his lack of sleep. After you pushed him out of the bathroom saying you needed a shower, all he could picture was you. He thought of the way the soap was probably sliding down your body, dripping down your chest that drove him mad and slinking its way between your thighs.

He ran a heavy hand across his face, cursing his mind. Perhaps if he hadn't lost his cool a year ago he might be in the shower with you right now.

Logan wasn't quite sure why he did that. He chalked it up to fear. Fear of accepting your feelings, fear of his own, fear of losing you one day to one of Charles' seizures. You had spent the last year being so curt with him, with short conversations and stolen glances, it was nothing like what he was used to nor what he really wanted. Despite the past 24 hours being shit, he was glad you were warming up to him again. You'd let him comfort you earlier and laughed at the Eeyore comment, something he'd made up in hopes you'd like it.

After all, he couldn't tell you Charles really said that he looked like a dog's ball sack...that would've just been embarrassing.

Logan wondered what he looked like in your eyes. he knew what you looked like in his. And though he'd never admit it, Logan knew what he looked like when he saw you. Charles once coined it after spending twenty minutes talking about Sketchers.

"You look at her like she's hung the moon and the stars, Logan."

He wondered that if he were able to man up one of these days and tell you how he felt. Logan wondered if he'd be able to keep you forever.

The soft sound of the sliding balcony door roused him from his thoughts.

"Hope you're not too drunk yet." You teased motioning to the big bottle of whisky in his hand.

"Barely had two sips." He says

"Yeah, okay old man. And I'm not gonna blow up like some blood balloon one day from my own damn mutation."

It was a joke, he knew that, but it was also reality. One day your mutation would kill you, as would his.

"You ever wonder how it came to this?" Logan asks as you sit beside him

"Like what?" You hum, taking the bottle from him so you can have a sip.

"Sitting around while our own bodies try to kill us," Logan says

Logan watches you let out a soft sigh and examine your hands which are more bruises that actual normal skin.

"I've always thought they tainted the food, or maybe the water with some chemical." You theorize, "Used something that would suppress the x-gene in us."

"Makes sense." He nods, glancing down and wondering if this very bottle of whiskey would make things even worse for the two of you.

Logan's eyes drift to your form. A long white T-shirt, one of his sits on your frame, you must've found it in the limo, he always carried extra clothes with him. He can't tell if you're wearing shorts, hell, he can't even tell if you've got underwear on. He does know it's making his hotel-issued pajama pants a bit tighter than normal. Your hair is dripping onto the shirt, slowly making it a bit see-through even in the dim light. He wants to-

"Laura crawled into bed with Charles. She must've gotten scared while I was showering." You say, pulling him from his thoughts before he could become too perverted.

"I'll sleep on the floor." He finds himself declaring getting up to go make a nest of pillows and blankets for himself

"What?" You question, following him into your room

Logan grabs a couple of pillows and the extra blanket from the closet and tosses them to the floor. No way in hell was he going to be able to sleep next to you with what was running through his mind right now.

"Logan it's a king-size bed, we can share." You groan

"M' fine on the floor." He said

You glance at him, and then the bed, and then his pillows and blankets.

"Do you really hate me that much?" You breathily ask

Fuck.

Logan is unsure of himself as you climb under the covers next to him and flick the lights off. He's 200 years old and he's never felt this nervous around a woman. Jesus, he was going soft.

"Are you breathing over there?" You ask

"What? Oh. Yeah, I'm uh fine." He stutters.

Silence follows for a minute or two and Logan thinks you've fallen asleep.

"Goodnight, Logan." You quietly say

"Goodnight." He whispers back, turning on his side to pretend you're not there.

Twenty minutes pass from Logan bidding you goodnight and you almost think that he's asleep until he calls your name into the darkness.

"Thought you were asleep." You murmur turning to look at his broad back that's turned to you.

"Can't." Logan sighs

"Me either." You say, bolding reaching out and running a hand down where his spine would be under his shirt.

Logan lets out a deep groan and shifts beside you so he's laying on his back.

"Logan...can I-"

As if he's a mind reader, Logan's big arm reaches over and pulls you into his side. You rest your head on his chest as his hand comes to rest on the curve of your hip.

"Don't wait to ask next time, bub."

"Sorry." You whisper into the darkness, hoping he can't hear the smile on your face.

You awake hours later to a deep grunt from Logan filling your ears, the sun slowly rose, peaking through the curtains. His arms are tight around your waist as he holds you from behind. You rub the sleep from your eyes, it had been nearly 8 hours since you had fallen asleep in Logan's arms.

Another grunt fills your ears. At first, you think he might be having a nightmare, as he often did. But, the sudden press of his hips to your ass said differently. Your face grew hot as he pulled you even tighter to him, hips slowly rocking into your body.

"Logan." You whisper, hoping to wake him before something embarrassing happens, "Logan."

It's when you begin to wiggle out of his iron-clad grip that he stirs.

"S' wrong?" He murmurs looking up at you with sleep-filled eyes

"Nothing...it's just." You glance down, trying not to mention the large bulge that tents the soft hotel logo embroidered pajama pants.

"Fuck." Logan curses, pulling the covers up to hide himself, "Sorry."

"It's alright." You say you're sure your face is a million degrees right now. You had always wondered what he might be like in the bedroom yet here you were flustered like some virgin.

You watch as Logan stirs, you expect him to brush past you and into the bathroom to take care of himself. Yet, you find him standing in front of you, lips pressed to yours for the first time in your life.

You whisper his name like a prayer when he pulls away.

"Tell me you don't want me. Say it, and I'll never try again." He says eyes fixed on yours

You answer his question by pressing your lips to his again, weaving your hands through the greying hair you've come to love over the past year.

You break away and trail gentle kisses up his jawline and to his ear.

"I want you."

Logan lets out a deep groan that has your lower stomach tightening with need.

"You got me."

Logan gently pushes you back into bed, your back meets the soft sheets as he climbs on top of you. His lips meet yours again and this time his tongue swipes along your bottom lip. You let him in and arch your hips up, grinding into his bulge that somehow grows even harder.

You smile when he pulls away from the kiss, a breathy moan stuck on his lips as he glares down at you.

"What're you smiling at?"

"Mmm, nothing." You lie

Logan's hands find the bottom of your, his, shirt, and he tugs gently, asking permission.

"It's alright." You confirm

The soft fabric leaves you and the cooler air meets your bare skin. The first rays of sunshine illuminate you as you shyly cross your arms across your chest. His eyes are so intense, you can't help the shyness that bubbles into your throat.

"Knew you weren't wearing any panties." Logan smirks, his bigger hands coming to pulls yours down "Don't need to hide from me, hon."

You nod and drop your arms, hoping he likes what he sees. You wish it were darker out. Your skin has been marred by your mutation. You wouldn't blame him if he left right now.

"Beautiful." Logan murmurs, a hand coming up to gently squeeze at your breast, thumb gently teasing the nipple.

"You don't have to lie." You scoff

"You really think I'm lying?" Logan shakes his head. He takes your hand in his free one and presses it to his crotch, " Does that feel like a lie?"

You blush hotly, not expecting him to be so bold.

"No." You whisper

"Exactly."

His lips press into your skin, and his beard tickles your skin as he kisses a path down your body, stopping to press a gentle kiss to the top of your mound where a soft tuft of hair sits. Suddenly you wished you had shaved last night in the shower.

"Logan...: You gasp when he slips his tongue further south.

His tongue works like magic as it circles your clit and dips inside you. A loud moan tumbles from your lips when he brings his lips up to suck your clit into his mouth.

"Logan please..." You whimper when he breaks away suddenly

"Gotta be quiet, hon. Don't wanna wake anyone up. " He reminds you

You nod and he dips back down. You bite at the back of your hand, praying that your companions are deep sleepers.

Logan's nose bumps your clit as his tongue works its way inside you. Your hips fly off the bed and his strong arms come up to circle your thighs and lock you in place.

Utterly trapped, you're at his mercy now. Completely.

A small whimper passes through your hand and Logan speaks into your cunt.

"C'mon, hon. I got ya...let go"

The mixture of his deep voice and the way his tongue went back to working its magic has you losing your mind. Your hips thrash against his grip as the dam breaks and your eyes slam shut.

Logan presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh before coming back up to you.

"You okay?" He asks

"Okay?" You laugh, "I've never cum that hard before."

"200 years of experience can be helpful." He brags

You roll your eyes and pull at his shirt, wanting to see him.

Scared skin and ripping muscle become visible to you and you have to keep yourself from staring too much as he also sheds his pants.

"Oh." You gulp as you finally get to see him in all his glory.

"Oh." He parrots with a smirk

A big hand comes up to your face and gently runs along your cheek.

"You still okay with this? I'll stop right now, just say the word." Logan says gently

You shake your head, the prospect of stopping would kill you.

"Words. I wanna hear it" He says

His dominant tone has a fresh wave of arousal wetting your thighs as you look up at him.

"I want to keep going." You say

"Good." He smiled pushing you back down to the bed

A gasp escapes your lips when he enters you. He was big, you knew it, you had seen it just seconds ago, yet it still surprised you as he pushed forward.

"Fuck..." Logan gasped above you, his hands gripping the pillows beside you

"Logan." You sigh

"You alright?" He asks softly

You nod enthusiastically. His hips pull backward and your jaw drops into a silent moan as he enters again. His chest hair tickles your own chest as he pumps in and out. Your eyes are wide and you're certain a bit of drool is on your chin as his hand jumps down to rub at your clit.

He's worked up you can tell, his thrusts become rougher as his hand rubs at your clit.

"Where?" Logan rasps

You weigh your options, you truly do. The chances of you getting pregnant were low, your body was so torn to shit it probably couldn't even carry a kid at this point.

"inside." You whisper "Inside me, Logan"

Logan lets out another quiet groan as he speeds up, the prospect of filling you has his hips losing it.

You cry out as you feel yourself cum again. Logan presses his lips to yours swallowing your moans and his own as he fills you. His hips stutter against yours as you run a hand through his hair.

He gently pulls out and before you know it, he's grabbing you by the waist and hauling you on top of him, your chest pressed to his as you lay directly on him.

"Fuck." He sighs

You smile into his chest, fully content despite how sticky you feel.

"You alright?" You ask him, listening to the way his heart races beneath his.

"Should be the one askin' you that." He says, running a hand down your sweaty back.

"I'm alright." You say pressing your cheek into his skin

"You sure? I didn't hurt you?" Logan asks

You sit up slightly to look at him.

"No, you didn't hurt me, Logan." You smile, pressing an assuring kiss to his lips, "I don't think I've ever had sex that amazing before"

Logan lets out a small snort of laughter.

"Good cuz' we can't do that again for a little bit."

You feel disappointment flood your system but you know what he means. You have a long road trip ahead of you, not to mention you're sure he feels exhausted after all that. You yourself feel boneless after all that. If only the two of you were younger.

"Get some rest," Logan murmurs into your hair "Three hours and we gotta go trade that piece of shit limo for something that will make it to North Dakota."

Much to your disappointment, he stays true to his word and wakes you up around nine. Logan tosses a soft towel toward you which lands directly on your face

"Take a quick shower. M' going to find us a ride. " He says

You nod and watch as he moves to get dressed. The towel he has wrapped around his waist soaks up the drops of water that fall from his hair and run down his tanned skin. Tantalizing body hair lines his skin and disappears under the towel, teasing what is hidden underneath.

"Less ogling, more showering." He huffs, dropping the towel to slip into a clean pair of underwear.

You rise to your feet, wrapped in the towel he gave you, and pad over to the bathroom, pretending not to look. Logan lets out a loud grumble when he catches you staring at his ass.

"Nice ass." You compliment, a smirk dancing on your lips.

"I'll drown you in the toilet."

You let out a bark of laughter and close the door. His jokes remind you of the young man you met at the school so many years ago. It seemed like an entirely different universe sometimes, thinking of who he used to be.

You help Charles with a bath after your own shower. It's embarrassing and difficult but you do it. He curses you out at least twenty times but at least he smells better by the end of it all. Then, you set your sights on Laura who avoids eye contact when you tell her to get in the bathroom.

"There is...a huge knot in your hair." You sigh, staring at the girl's head

Laura remains silent of course and picks at the sleeves of the fluffy bathrobe she put on as you try to blow dry her hair. It takes nearly twenty minutes but you're able to work most of it out with your fingers.

"You've gotta use more conditioner next time." You remind her as you flex your fingers.

Laura nods before climbing back into the bed with Charles to watch the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with Charles.

Logan would be back soon. You somehow manage to get Charles into his chair so you could get on the road quicker, you knew Logan was getting antsy. Laura munches on a bag of pretzel sticks that you bought from the vending machine a few floors down.

It's all so domestic. You smile to yourself as Laura mimics Charles who sticks a pretzel between his lips and pretends to smoke it for her entertainment.

"Alright, that's enough." You say, "We're gonna wait for Logan down at the valet."

You were getting nervous, he had been gone for nearly two hours now. You were sure he was perfectly fine but that didn't stop you from worrying.

"Laura grab the stuff from the other room."

You shake two pills out into your hands for Charles.

"Take them," You say

"Do I have to?" He asks sadly looking up at you

"You know what happens when you don't." You sigh, not interested in arguing with him

Charles' hand brushes yours just as the door is kicked down. You hear Laura's loud shout before you see them.

"Don't move." You order Charles as you turn to face the men.

"That blood manipulator is here, boss," One says into his radio on his shoulder

For once you thank Logan for his constant drinking. Miniature whiskey bottles litter the room. Lucky for you, they're glass and will work nicely for what you have planned. You thank the Lord for Johnnie Walker and smash one end of it off the bed frame. The sharp edge glints in the sunlight as you tighten your grip determined not to make the first move on these assholes.

A voice on the radio crackles back, "Transigen wants her DNA. Put er' to sleep."

The sharp buzz of something that sounds very painful and full of enough volts to fry a horse hits your ears.

Three men on your left, two on the right. Where's Laura?

One of the ones on your left makes the first move, he's the one with the overkill taser, that looks more like a cattle prod. You easily grab one end, careful to avoid the volts that light up electric blue. All the gear this man is wearing is making him slow. Johnnie Walker finds a home in this mystery man's neck and he lets out a low gurgle.

Five more men enter the room and you focus in on the blood that's flowing down this man's body and into your hands. A sharp pain dances across your brain but you ignore it.

The radio crackles from this dead man's shoulder, "What the fuck are you doing?! Move!"

Your hands come up and you focus on the blood, sharpening it into the form of a knife, sending one into the closest man's neck. He falls to the ground clutching an open wound that will never close.

You're ready to drop the rest of them, the man on the other end of the radio is still shouting at them all.

"Forget them, Where's the kid?" One man asks

The mention of Laura has your eyes scanning for her, she's nowhere to be found but before you can kill the rest of them, Charles acts first.

An unbelievable surge of energy goes through you. The blood you were controlling slips from your grasp and splatters onto the ground. White hot pain flashes in your brain as you try to turn towards Charles. It's like you've been superglued in place. You watch helplessly as Laura inches towards you, dragging herself across the floor towards you.

The appearance of Logan has you relieved as he makes his way towards you, killing each of your assailants one by one with his claws. Laura hands the syringe off to Logan and almost as quickly as it started, it's over.

You fall backward to the ground, and your lungs heave as they welcome the oxygen they were deprived of. Logan's above you, checking you for any injuries as he barks an order at Laura. And then Logan's scooping you up, bridal style, and carrying you out of the room, whispering that everything was fine. Your hand throbs as Logan rushes to the car, Laura pushing Charles hot on his heels. Your own blood, a rare sight is trickling down your arm, staining the sweatshirt you had demanded yesterday.

Logan places you in the front seat and shoves a wad of napkins at you.

"Get it to clot."

He slams the door shut and goes to help Laura with Charles. You focus on your hand, willing the blood to stop. Your head sends a sharp pain down your spine but it eventually tapers off. The cut, becoming pink and sensitive, it'll be healed in the next day or so.

You spend the next hours in silence on the road. At some point Logan's hand had found a way to your thigh, resting there as he drove.

You twisted around to check on Laura and Charles, both of them were asleep. The car clock read 10:30 PM.

"You gonna let me drive?" You ask Logan

"I'm fine." He says

You sigh, of course, he was planning to drive through the night you truly didn't know how he survived on so little sleep.

"The men back at the hotel today, they were planning on taking me alive." You say to him

"They want your genetic code. Probably want to grow more mutants with it, that's what they did with mine." Logan says, glancing in his mirror at a sleeping Laura.

"Living weapons." You sigh, thinking of all the children in that video.

"What they'd do with your power? Can you imagine some full-powered, mindless zombie, controlling people's blood?" Logan shakes his head.

It's not a pretty picture, what his words conjure in your mind. Some nameless child raised up with the idea that their power is invincible.

"Shit, they'd be able to pop the head off the president's shoulders without even blinking," Logan says

"I get it." You glare at him

You're a long way from full strength. You wonder if you'd even be able to, in Logan's words, "Pop someone's head off". Perhaps the effort would kill you and you'd blow a hole in your own mind. Just earlier today you had struggled, there was once a time you would've been able to cut every one of those men down in less than three seconds.

"Nothing's gonna happen to you. Transigen isn't getting one drop of that blood." Logan assures you, "We're gonna drop her in North Dakota and then buy the Sunseeker."

"I want to be able to drive it every once in awhile." You say

"Yeah?" Logan smiles over at you, "You're not gonna crash it into something?"

"We'll be in the middle of the ocean how would I crash?" You roll your eyes

"Remember that time we went Go-Karting as a team and you jumped a barrier and hit Scott so hard he had whiplash for a week?"

"That was once!" You groan, "Is that why you won't let me drive now?"

Logan's deep laugh fills your ears as he shakes his head.

"That's part of the reason. The other half is that it makes me feel useful. Feel like I'm doing something for you."

You sit up, looking over at him.

"Logan, you are useful. You do things for me all the time."

The headlights of a car passing by on the other side of the road illuminate his tired face.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Just today you carried me out of the hotel and to the car. Two weeks ago you bought my favorite candy for movie night even though you hate it."

You glance to the backseat making sure Laura and Charles are still asleep.

You lower your voice just in case they wake up, "You literally gave me two of the best orgasms I've ever had this morning."

Even though it was true, you meant it as a joke, but it caught Logan off guard as his laugh turned into a fit of coughs.

"Logan!" You exclaim when his hands let go of the wheel and one of those damn auto trucks nearly runs you off the road.

"What's going on?" Charles and Laura are awake in the backseat again

Logan slows the car down so you're cruising at 45mph. He turns to you, face serious and brows slightly pinched together in anger.

"No more sex jokes."

Part Three

Whenever I write smut, I feel like it doesn't flow as well as my other normal writing. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed this part.

Tags:

@gigabitemyass @1cam8 @personofsinterest @corruptedcruiser @flamingbisexual08

@arrozconpepitoria

@e-ak

@nikos-a-clown

@evanpetersmood

@loganhowlettsboyfriend

@persiar9

@khaylin27

@veggie-eggrolls

710 notes · View notes