#but I think it could be meant in a demeaning way

[imamastermind-nowurmine]

I made a lemon cake for my husband’s work potluck, and his manager asked him about me. After his explanation, they asked if I was like sweet magnolias, and my photo confirmed their suspicions. I don’t know if it’s a compliment or an insult.

[berrymeter]

i don't know if i'm just reaching with my criticisms sometimes bc i certainly don't see similar sentiments echoed a lot but it could just be that i'm not looking in the right places. my most recent problem has been with okami (videogame) bc i've been thinking a lot about how capcom put a lot of imperialist imagery in their games & okami is chock full of that. the country it's set in being called nippon, the rising sun pattern appearing whenever you draw the sun brush technique, the yamato ark carrying the "heavenly people" down to earth (the main ethnic group in japan is yamato btw), the oina tribe being clearly inspired from an existing indigenous group & being associated with animals & overall very mystified. idk

[lovelivision]

CLOTHED?!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 【𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞】 fushiguro toji/reader, geto suguru/reader, gojo satoru/reader, kamo choso/reader

𝐖𝐂: 4.8k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they all have their own reasons for not undressing completely, just how crazy will they drive you in their pursuit to have you cumming in your clothes?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, dirty talk, teasing, dry humping, thigh riding, cunnilingus, afab!reader, no pronouns or y/n used, pet names used: doll, baby, sweetheart, i think that's all !! <3

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 ★

This all started because he believed something and you didn’t, now you’re sat on him, fully clothed, struggling to comprehend just how your few words worked him up so much to the point that it feels like he’s torturing you over them. A punishment, that you feel, you do not deserve.

All you had said was that you don’t think it’s possible for you to finish fully clothed and he took that as a personal challenge and a slight against his ability to please you, which, you never meant it as.

What you meant doesn’t change the facts of your situation though, he’s got you teary eyed and shaking on his lap. Clothed erection rutting up against your core, hands digging into your hips to drag you back and forth over him. So determined in how he’s devotedly humping up into you.

So badly you want for him to forget about the thing you said, you just want him to fuck you but he’s not going to, and you can tell that just by the look on his face alone. “Toji, please just – hah – forget what I said,” your voice shakes slightly.

Almost baring his teeth when he snaps back, “Trying to prove you wrong, doll.”

“But it would feel so much better if you – hnn – would just–”

He grunts at you, hips jerking up, “I’ll make you feel so much better once you cum in your pants.”

“I don’t think I–”

Predicting what you were going to say, “–You can, I’ll make sure of it,” his hands gripping you so firm you think he might leave bruises behind.

Toji’s so hard, straining against his pants, desperate to fuck you, to feel some kind of release but you said something that he disagrees with, and now he’s going to show you that you can cum for him no matter how clothed you are.

Panties so slick and sticky, stuck to your cunt, leaking into your pants, you’re going insane. Right on the edge of cumming but not feeling like it’s enough, wanting for him to just stuff you full at this point. Foggy brain not understanding why he’s so bent out of shape over this, it would feel so much better if he would just fuck you.

The friction against your core not enough, his cock splits your folds, grinding you down into him. The pleasure better, hands grabbing at his shoulders, fisting his shirt, gasping at how the head of his clothed cock hits your clit.

“Toji,” you whine at him.

“Right there, huh?” He huffs, doubling his efforts.

Dripping into your panties and shorts embarrassingly, soaking them, so incredibly damp. Something that he doesn’t miss, not if his smirk and visibly inflating ego are anything to go by.

Your eyes are large as you plead with him, “Please, just fuck me.”

His smile is dark, evil, taunting, “I will…after you’ve cum for me.”

Your hips stutter on him, grinding down harder, your own determination to cum like this growing, if it means finally getting fucked full then you will finish for him, fully clothed.

“Suddenly feeling motivated, doll?” His chuckle feels demeaning.

“Shuddup,” you mean for it to have more bite when you say it, but you sound pathetic and needy.

He bites his lower lip at the way you circle your hips, “Pretty cute how desperate you’ve gotten.”

“Be nicer,” trying to chastise him while humping his clothed cock isn’t all that effective.

Laughing heartily at your poor excuse of admonishment, “You should be nicer to me, you know I could always be meaner.” As if to illustrate his point, he lets go of your hips, no longer assisting you.

A sad noise leaves you at the loss of his hands, struggling to get the same kind of pleasure from this without his help. Your fingers digging into his shirt, brows scrunching as you try to make up for the loss of him. Wet cunt grinding down, not quite getting the same kind of pleasure, back to desperately wanting for him to fuck you open.

“I’m sorry,” you rush out, hoping he’ll show mercy.

“What was that, doll?” He asks, feigning like he couldn’t hear you perfectly well.

Shooting him a teary-eyed glare, you repeat, “I’m sorry, just please– help.”

His smile is self-satisfied at your pleading, cooing at you, “You sure you want the help of this mean man?”

“Mhm,” nodding your head vehemently at him, wanting nothing more than that.

Huffing a breath of amusement at your eagerness, “Should’ve said I wasn’t mean there.”

“Toji!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismisses, pulling you down with a strong hand on the back of your neck. Lips colliding with his, sloppy and messy, all teeth and tongues.

Once he has his lips on yours, he moves his hand back to your hips, stroking them lower to your thighs just to pull them apart further on top of him. His clothed cock splitting your folds more like this, your pussy twitching and drooling into your panties.

He groans against your mouth, “I bet you’re so fuckin wet,” he pants against you, growing just as frustrated as you, if not more, “Gotta cum soon, doll. Can’t handle much more of this.”

He could always just stop this and fuck you but he’s stubborn and you know better than to try and convince him of this, especially now, when you’re getting so close to finishing.

“Promise to fuck me after?” Feeling worried he might go back on his word and torture you some more.

“Hah– I’m not depriving myself of your creamy little cunt, doll. Stuffing you full right after you’ve cum is one of my favourite pastimes,” he licks at your lower lip before nipping it.

Your arms wrap around him completely, face nuzzling into his neck, focusing on how you’re moving against him. Starting to stutter against your will, his large hands helping you along, supplying you with the friction he had robbed you of only a few moments ago.

His huffed breaths tickling your ear, having turned his head towards you, to continue talking to you, keep spouting filth at you. Too aware of how much his voice gets you off, “C’mon, doll, know you’re so close, cum in your panties for me, hmm?”

Only able to whimper against him in response, no words forming as you continue to rut into him. Pussy hole clenching pathetically around nothing, begging to be filled, getting closer to your end. It’s almost embarrassing that he’s able to have you falling apart despite the fact you’re both fully clothed.

“Be good and cum for me, wanna fuck you into next week,” he groans out when you press down into him with more pressure, his words getting to you more than you’d ever admit.

“Toji –hnn– I’m soo–”

His voice is lilted, excited, “Yeahh that’s it, doing so good for me– fuck.”

You shake on top of him, clit hitting his cock just right, whimpered whines leaving you as you huff against the skin of his neck. Tears welling in your eyes, nails digging into him slightly. The groan he lets out swiftly followed by your name has you cumming for him, in your clothes, fully dressed.

He talks you through it, hands stroking at your back, amused by how you twitch from your aftershocks. After a beat of silence, and your breathing evens out, he speaks lowly into your ear, “Told ya so.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 ★

Your panties are soaked through, almost completely wet as you slide back and forth on Geto’s jean clad thigh. He’s not even touching you, refusing to help, only sitting back and enjoying the view of you humping down into him like a bitch in heat.

Enjoying the frustrated pout settling on your features, playing dumb when he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Not enough,” you huff back.

“Sure it is,” he hums, hand moving only to tickle up the length of your inner thigh, “Look at the mess you’re leaving behind, ruining my pants.”

Your skin flares at his comment, all too aware of the dark and damp spot you’re leaking into his jeans. Not appreciating his comment, only serving to embarrass you, feeling self-conscious with how you’re rubbing your pussy into his thigh.

He must notice, smile kind when he says, “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s cute how worked up you are just for my thigh, think you could cum like this?”

Shaking your head at him, “No –hng–” moaning when he bounces his leg up, jostling you on his thigh suddenly.

“I think you can,” his lips curling into a deceivingly innocent grin, “Go on, keep going,” nodding downwards at his leg, encouraging you to continue your movements.

Sticky folds splitting obscenely to rut down into him, panties moulding to your pussy lips, leaving nothing to the imagination. Slick beading through the material of your underwear, repeated back and forth of your hips spreading it all over him.

A completely lewd display, one that Geto is appreciating deeply, his cock painfully erect at how your eyes are all bleary and unfocused. Simultaneously embarrassed about how you’re humping his leg and so desperate to cum that you’re not stopping your movements.

Small whines and whimpers leaving you, despite the fact that you’re biting your lower lip in an attempt to stop them. Geto’s fingers twitch with the need to touch you, feeling an itch to help you, get you off faster but stopping himself, enjoying the struggle you’re facing a bit too much.

“Sugu, I just want you,” sounding pathetic even to yourself, begging him for help? For his cock? Either? Both?

Tutting at you with faux sympathy, “I’m right here, baby,” smirking at how your brows upturn and you huff at him.

“I want – hah – want you to touch me, please,” eyes big and pitifully wet.

“Always so pretty when you beg,” his hand reaches for your face and wipes away the tears you hadn’t realised you’d shed.

Spreading your legs slightly, continuing to grind down onto his thigh, wishing he would at least take off his pants so you can feel every ridge and dip of his muscles. Slippery in how you rock back and forth, clit catching with your grinding, gasped moans leaving you with it.

He observes, “Getting desperate?”

“Please just touch me, I don’t care where, just touch me please, Sugu,” practically sobbing at him, feeling so completely deprived of him by now.

His outside demeanour stays unchanged, forever amused by how desperate you are for him to touch you but his cock twitches in his pants and is leaking profusely. So fucking hard and ready to fuck you, loving how you plead and beg for him.

Wanting nothing more than to fuck inside you, feel the way your tight cunt sucks him in, drooling all over him but he’s gonna have you finishing like this first. Thinking to himself that you’ll probably make a great face when you cum in your panties for him.

He obliges you slightly though, hands moving to your hips, forcing you down on his thigh harder. Giving you a more consistent pace to get off to, relief flooding you at how much better it feels to have him set the rhythm, you could almost cry at how good it feels.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” it’s repeated over and over, so grateful for his help.

“So polite when you get what you want,” he muses, eyes fixated on the way you’re seemingly growing slicker. God, by the time he’s inside you, you’re going to be beyond dripping, the realisation thrilling him.

Panties borderline see through with how you’re coating them, his large hands gripping your thighs harshly, spreading them open even more. He wants to see how you rub your pretty little cunt down into him, needs to see.

Aching in his pants for you, close to giving up and bullying his thick cock inside you, voice strained when he asks, “Getting close?”

“Mhm,” you mumble back, hole fluttering on nothing at the sound of his wrecked voice.

His leg starts bouncing again, adding more stimulation for you to get off to. Almost screaming at the abrupt change, hands digging into his shoulders, mouth gaping open as moans and whines push their way out of you.

Tears streaming down your face again as you twitch down into him, “Sugu– it feels – ah –” Not able to properly verbalise just how good he’s making you feel.

“If it feels so good,” his hands forcing you down and circling your hips, feeling the way he almost starts salivating at the wet sounds your slutty pussy makes for him, “Cum for me,” almost spitting out the rest of his sentence.

His eyes glazing over, mirroring your own, so fucking horny he’s going to go insane. Poor cock feeling neglected, getting consumed in his own thoughts, thoughts about your cunt and how divinely you take him.

“I– I’m gonna–” panting with the effort it takes to talk when your brain is so foggy.

Extremities thrumming with the build up of your orgasm, head feeling heavy as you struggle to hold it up straight. Letting it loll to the front, chin on your chest as you cum all over Geto’s leg. Gushing inside your panties and soaking his thigh, cum seeping into the material, matching the small wet spot on his pants by the tip of his dick.

“Ffffuck– that’s it, so fucking perfect for me,” praise falling from his lips easily as he watches your body twitch and jerk on top of him.

Once you’ve come down some, he has you standing between his spread legs, your hands resting on his shoulders still to keep yourself on your feet. His hands tug your panties down, watching the way your cum connects to your cunt with sticky strings, low growl stuck in his throat at how creamy your pussy is.

“That’s what I like to see,” he hums, smile evil as he continues to pull them down and off you.

“Sugu.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll fuck me now, right?” You ask, hoping desperately that he will, not realising that it might just kill him if he doesn’t stuff you full.

“Ah, on one condition,” smile growing as he says, “Open your mouth.” His hand holding your panties shoving them into your mouth, “Since you wanna get stuffed full so bad,” he hums.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ★

What’s gotten Gojo so worked up, you couldn’t say, all you know is that it’s hard to think. Feeling breathless at the way he’s lapping at your clothed cunt, hands pulling at the material on your hips to have them melding to you.

Your legs thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, his faze nuzzling into your pussy, licking and sucking at the material of your panties. His saliva soaking them just as much as your slick is, lolling his tongue out and letting it rest against your cunt. His dazed eyes and small sounds of pleasure having you twitch down onto him, pussy gliding along his tongue.

Using him to get yourself off, he’s letting you use him to get yourself off, head nodding slightly with your movements, tongue sliding through your folds. His eyes sparkling as he watches you grow desperate for him, thumbs parting your pussy lips. Tongue fucking deeper, almost dipping into your hole, stopped by the resistance of your panties.

Your voice calls out for him, “‘Toru, please just take them off–”

“No.” His mouth parting from you only to spit out that singular answer, not interested in taking off your underwear in the slightest. Apparently too pleased with himself and this situation.

Huffing out at him, frustrated by his answer, “Please, need more.”

“I need you to let me lick at your pussy like this, I like the way you’re coating them,” he hums, licking at the length of your pussy, hands now holding you still by your thighs, taking back the small amount of control he allowed you, “Want you to cream them.”

“Why?” Eyes wet when you ask him why he’s suddenly so desperate to have you cumming in your panties for him.

“Wanna see what will happen,” he shrugs easily.

Feeling yourself bristle at his answer, basically torturing you just because he wants to see what will happen.

“That – and I’m enjoying this,” he smiles, tongue hanging from his mouth, letting his saliva drip down onto your covered pussy, you’ve got him salivating for you and he’s not even put his tongue on you properly, “Aren’t you?”

His eyes on you are intent and bordering on desperate, so hazy, consumed by lust as he stares at you, letting his tongue continue to drool down onto your panties. Panties that are completely soaked by now, you can’t even tell who more from at this point, only really aware of how wet they are, to the point they feel like a second skin.

He chuckles when you don’t answer, too dazed in how you watch him, his tongue licking his lower lip, mouth down turning into a mocking pout, “You not enjoying yourself, sweetheart?”

“No,” your frown must feel meaner than it really is because Gojo’s eyes only sparkle with delight.

Smirking before lowering his head, “I guess I’ll just have to fix that then.”

Mouth back on you in full force, making out with your clothed cunt with so much vigour he’s making wet sloppy sounds, the noises make you grow hot, feeling embarrassed at just how messy it all sounds. It’s even messier than it sounds, your pussy leaking into his mouth and down your inner thighs.

Shamelessly, he presses his face right into your cunt, inhaling deeply, the action has your skin flaring. Hands instinctually moving to his head, attempting to push him away but he’s immovable, steadfast in how he’s sniffing the panties you’re still wearing.

“Gojo!”

“Don’t be embarrassed, love everything about your pussy,” he’s nuzzling into your cunt more, opening his mouth to press his tongue against your hole, letting your slick bead through the fabric onto it.

Groaning when he swallows, “Smell so good, taste so good,” his eyes lazily look up to you, “Feel so good, so soft, sweetheart… you know that?”

Teary eyed when you shake your head no at him, feeling so embarrassingly overwhelmed. It’s like he’s drunk but nothing has happened for him to lose it to this point, “Are you okay?” Your hand runs softly through his hair.

“I’m perfect,” he assures, smile intoxicated as he goes back to mumbling about your cunt, “So soft, so wet, you gonna let me suck at your pussy over your panties?”

“Are you sure you’re–”

“–If you’re so worried about me, jus let me have my way with you,” his words slurring slightly.

He realises that he must seem different from usual but really, he’s just having trouble holding back right now. You were wearing such a cute pair of panties, wandering around his apartment in them and his shirt. Who can blame him for how he’s acting? When you looked like that? He’s just a little drunk on your pussy and he doesn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed about it, not when you’re this wet for him.

Your hand tugs at his hair, pulling his gaze back to yours, it had dipped to stare greedily at your cunt, “Then take off–”

He singsongs at you, “Nope.” Blowing cool air against your core to tease you, it causes you to involuntarily twitch for him, “So needy, lemme play with you like this a little more, hmm?”

“Wouldn’t it be better if–”

“Nooo,” he drags it out, as if it were obvious, “After, I promise after you cum in your panties, I will tongue fuck you so good you’ll see stars but for now, be good and let me do this for you.” He presses wet kisses into your thighs, voice pleading as he repeats over and over, “Please, please, please please please.”

“Just, make me cum, please,” you’re starting to feel neglected.

“Of course I will, what do you take me for?” His brows scrunch at you, considering arguing with you about when he’s not had you finishing for him but too keen to put his mouth back on you to talk anymore.

The only time he’s content to be silent is when his tongue is busy lapping at you like a starved man and even then, he’s far from silent, tongue making obscene noises as he licks at you, moans and whines leaving him against his will. Enjoying himself too much to register or even really care that he sounds so pathetically wrecked just from this much.

Hips grinding down into the bed, too needy to hold himself back, cock so hard and ignored. Leaking profusely into his pants, needing the small relief badly, happy he’s too consumed in your cunt to think about his dick too much, otherwise he’d be stuffing you full before he gets what he wants.

Grip lessening on you, hanging his tongue to let you grind into it again, loving the way you get so eager to cum, chasing your own high and using him to get there. Smiling lazily at how your hips rise and fall, rubbing your pussy down onto him, head tipped back, struggling to keep your whines at bay.

Excitement running through his body down to his stiff cock when you twitch and moan for him in a way that tells him you’re getting so close to cumming. His hands hold your thighs tightly as he assists your movements, encouraging you to be rougher, to use him more.

“‘Toru – hah – I’m gonna – hnn –”

“Mhm,” he hums his acknowledgement, all too ready for you to cum.

Eyes shutting tight against the force of your orgasm, toes curling, thighs attempting to close around his head, but Gojo holds you so embarrassingly open. When your movements twitch and stutter, losing their pace, he pins you down into the bed and keeps licking at you. Depraved in how he’s lapping at you, losing his fucking mind at how you’ve creamed your panties for him.

Tingling felt throughout all your limbs, feeling overstimulated as he doesn’t stop his movements, jerking away from him and pushing at his head, whining, “It’s too much, ‘Toru.”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” his hand rips your panties from you, tongue fucking into your pussy hole suddenly, drinking down your cum, desperate for more. It doesn’t seem like he’ll be done anytime soon.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ★

Choso has you on your back for him, legs spread wide, his clothed dick grinding down into your panty clad core. What had started as an innocent kiss, turned into a heated make out session and then into shedding of pants while he humped into your cunt.

So desperate in his movements, cock rubbing through your folds, spreading your pussy lips obscenely. Slick pooling into your panties, he’s much the same, his cock head weeping into his underwear, dark spot at the tip.

His mouth is still firmly planted against yours, kissing you so dizzyingly, sucking your tongue into his mouth. Only ever parting from you long enough to huff out and catch his breath, pressing out compliments through clenched teeth.

“Feels so good, so pretty,” his words murmured, mouth brushing against yours, lips back on yours before you can even think to reply.

He’s holding back for you, you had wanted to take the relationship slower than your previous ones, which included waiting for sex but as the tip of his cock presses at your clothed hole, your resolve cracks and you want to tell him it’s okay.

You don’t get a chance to say anything though, his mouth needily kissing you into submission, almost tearing up at how it feels to have his lips on yours. Hands gripping at his shirt, his own on your thigh, on your hips, your stomach, boobs, anywhere he can reach, he’s touching and groping.

So overwhelming in how he’s touching you, your cunt so slick and ready to take him, legs tightening around his waist and pulling him down into you more. Grinding up into him, so fucking horny and ready to beg for more, Choso whines into your mouth at how you rut up into him.

Breaking the kiss to moan into the delicate skin of your neck, huffing as his hips fuck frantically down into you, meeting your need tenfold. Borderline whimpering at how damp you feel through all the layers.

He’s dizzied, from the thought of how your tight, wet heat will envelop his cock, sucking him in greedily. Losing his sanity as he humps at you, feeling juvenile but wanting nothing more than to respect your wishes and also get you off, he can do both, he can make you cum for him like this without fucking you full.

“Choso – hnn –”

Ah, your wrecked voice has him twitching pathetically against you, hips coming down more forcefully into yours. His breaths panting against your skin, struggling to focus on anything but how good this feels, how much better it could feel.

“– Mmph – Choso,” you call for him again, needing his attention.

His movements don’t stop, not even for a moment, too fucking lost in the pleasure to even think of stopping, “Hmm, you okay?” His hand gently holds your face, his own moving back to look you in the eyes, to check on you.

Nodding your head at him, “I’m fine, want more.”

“No,” he shakes his head at you.

“But–”

“Only saying that now – hah –” his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head at the thought of actually fucking you, “Only saying that because you’re horny – hnn –”

“Nooo – mmph – ‘m saying it because I mean it.”

“Ask me again after you’ve cum,” he noses at the side of your face.

His voice and steadfastness regarding this topic has your pussy clenching pathetically around nothing, eager to be stuffed full of him. Hoping to change his mind, “Cho, please,” eyes big and wet when you plead with him.

“No,” he huffs out, finding it harder and harder to resist you.

“Wanna be stuffed full, Cho – hnn – wanna feel you inside me, so bad,” babbling to him in your want.

Moaning at your words, “I want that too.”

“Then–”

“Nope,” his mouth back on yours to shut you up for a moment, tongue sliding into the kiss. He can’t have you keep begging him like that, he’ll give you what you want but you made the decision to wait for sex before you were so fucking desperate for him to fuck you, so you’ll have to wait.

You’re clawing at him frantically, hips messy in their movements, only seeking pleasure, offering no rhyme or reason to how you achieve it. Drooling into your panties for him, to have him shoving you down his fat cock, taking it all, the idea of it all has you drunk. You’d be embarrassed by how needy you are for his dick if you weren’t so aroused, so preoccupied with how good he’s making you feel.

When he parts the kiss, your mouths are connected by a string of saliva, kiss so messy and fuelled purely by lust. His eyes so dazed as they look down at you, almost unseeing, brows scrunched as his cock jerks against your cunt.

You go to speak, to beg him again, but his hand reaches up to cover your mouth, clamping down, “Can’t keep begging me, I’ll give in, I’ll give you anything you want – fuck – feels so fucking good and I’m not even – hah – not even inside you, can’t even feel how soft you are, how tight, wet – fuck.”

He bites his lip to stop his mouth, dick releasing thick globs of precum at the way you’re almost crying for him, eyes pathetic as you look up at him from underneath his large hand.

“Look so pretty right now,” he compliments, eyes adoring as he does.

You moan back at him, pleading with him through your eyes, his hips stutter and he groans out. His hand leaves you, only so he can use both of them to tug your panties up, spreading your folds open in a lewd display, his cock rubbing against you insistently. Shocked whimpers leaving you at the sudden change in friction, feeling it so much more.

“Cho!”

“I know – fuck – I know,” his head looks down to how your pussy lips bulge around your panties, losing his fucking mind at the sight of it. If he just gave into your begging, your lips could be bulging around his dick.

Shiver running down his spine, eyes flicking back to yours, “You need to cum.”

“What–”

“Right now.”

It feels like he doubles his efforts, grinding down into you with a new kind of need. Your eyes glazing over, fucked out over his clothed cock, body shaking as your high approaches so much faster. The work up having gotten to you, so fucking close to cumming from this.

His mouth back on you, kissing you breathless, hips moving against you almost like he’s fucking you. Hands everywhere, groping, pulling, his whimpers filling your ears, you wonder how he’d sound while actually fucking you.

Cumming suddenly for him, clawing at his back, legs kicking where they’re wrapped around him, cunt pulsing around nothing. Tears slipping from your waterline, mind hazy and foggy, orgasm wracking through you so deliciously.

Choso’s hips stutter against you, nipping at your lower lip before pulling away, whines leaving him as he continues to overstimulate the both of you, refusing to stop until you whimper and push at him.

Looking down to where his pelvis rests against yours, you can see the dark patch at the front of his boxers. His cum leaking into his underwear, the sight has your tummy doing flips and Choso’s skin tinting a deeper pink.

“Can you fuck me now?” You ask simply, still desperate for him.

𝐀/𝐍: i got a bit carried away with this... i think if i hadn't stopped myself gojo's would have been obscenely long 😳 thank you for reading !! ‧₊˚✩彡

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[gh0stsp1d3r]

-GUN TO YOUR HEAD…

MDNI | DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Warnings: gun play, dark!rafe, blowjobs, gun to head, drug use (cocaine), use of the words “bitch, idiot”, dubcon

I don’t condone any of this in real life. this is PURELY a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken seriously. consent is key <3

He had been tired of your constant whining and complaining the whole day. As soon as you both stepped into the house, his eyes darkened and you could tell he was being serious when he reached into his waistband and the gun you knew was tucked in it.

You swallowed, thinking the words “rafe wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” Over and over to yourself. He glanced down at it, holding it in his hands.

“Stop your crying.” He told you with a scoff. “Get in the fucking room.” He nodded his head towards the door, you quickly nodding again, scrambling to the room as quickly as possible, tearing off your shoes as you sat on the bed, your leg bouncing up and down while you desperately tried to wipe your tears off with the back of your hand.

You swallowed again when you stood in front of him, looking down bashfully at the floor underneath you. You watched as he walked in, grabbing out something from his drawer, before hearing him snort a line on his dresser, him throwing his head back with a sigh.

“Get on your knees.” His voice was a murmur, but it was held with authority, you obeying as quickly as possible.

“Can’t take your fucking… constant nagging anymore. Rafe, I wanna go home. Rafe, this is bad. Rafe don’t do that!” He mocked you with a scoff, pacing in front of you for a moment before stopping.

He stood in front of you, you still looking at the ground. “Look at me when I talk to you!” He shouted, you jumping and flinching as the words vibrated off the walls, you looking up at him now, your eyes pleading with him.

He sighed heavily, looking at the gun in his hands. He thought for a moment, before he put it of the side of your head.

“Rafe-“.

“Shut up.”

“Rafe- I’m- I’m- I’m- sorry- I’m sorry-“ you were hyperventilating at this point.

“I said shut up!”

You continued staring up at him with fear and confusion in your eyes, not knowing what to say or do at this point.

“God- fucking idiot-“ he murmured to himself, although you heard it. “Do I need to give you step by step instructions? Suck my dick.” He said in a demeaning voice.

You listened and obeyed, your hands fumbling with his zipper, before pulling his cock out of the confines of his pants and boxers.

He sighed in relief when you finally put your mouth to the tip of his aching, red cock, the hand that was on the gun relaxing slightly. You didn’t waste a second, not wanting to anger him any more.

His other hand made its way to the back of your head, setting a faster pace. You made a noise of surprise, grabbing onto his thighs, digging your nails into them as he shoved your entire mouth down on his cock. You had spit dripping down your mouth and mascara running down your face, but he didn’t seem to care.

He chuckled harshly, “don’t cry.” He mocked with a pout, you slobbering all on his cock while he spoke down to you. “This is what happens when you’re a fucking bitch all day, baby.” He shoved you down even further, until your face was stuffed in his pubic hair, him laughing at your struggles to breathe.

He pulled you back off of his cock, giving you time for some air. You coughed and spluttered, your throat thoroughly bruised. He leaned down to speak in your ear, a chilling threat that hung in the air even when he left the room to go start a bath for you. Because despite everything, he still loved you. A sick, twisted part of him did.

“You’re lucky I don’t blow your brains out right fucking now.”

When he left, you noticed the bullets laying across the room. The gun had been empty the whole time.

[dadsbongos]

So I recently had a thought about Chilchuck x reader. While drinking, Chilchuck discovers that the reader is a complete lightweight who got drunk after 2 drinks. Not only that, but reader who is usually reserved and quiet becomes rather giggly, vocal, and the smallest bit flirty. Maybe he sees what happens when the reader becomes even more drunk and backs himself into a corner when they become very flirty and forward about their feelings for him? :3

642 words / warnings - you imply you want to bang chilchuck maybe? idk its a vague comment take it how you will ~~~

Saying he was excited to see beneath the veil of brooding silence would go against his entire modus operandi, so Chilchuck would never say it aloud.

Yet he cannot fight the quiet snicker leaving him as you drunkenly giggle over some terribly unfunny joke spat by a tipsy Marcille. Party morale nights were his favorite: free ale and free entertainment.

“You should join us more often!” Marcille cheers.

“Oh, no,” you drawl, staring into your emptied mug -- your first mug, might he add, “I’m not a big drinker.”

“Obviously,” Chilchuck cannot bite the remark before it slithers out.

“Hey!” you whine, swirling on your stool you glare at him. Cheek smushed against your fist, “I’m just not a fan…”

“Because it reveals your actually tolerable side?”

“Rude!”

Chilchuck might’ve been worried about hurting your feelings if you weren’t laughing quietly, eyes fluttering shut as you hum displeased at his jab. That infamous furrow in your brows coming to life as you mull over a response, soft scowl dragging soon after.

“I think you said something you didn’t mean to, Chilchuck…”

“Huh?”

Refocusing your stare on him, you lean forward, “You pretty much just said I’m cuter when I drink.”

“Is that how you took it?” 

“It’s what you meant.”

Rolling his eyes, albeit with a chest full of mirth and warm cheeks, “Right.”

“I hope it was, anyway,” you confess, smile widening regardless of his following shock.

“What do you mean by that?!” he has to grab the table, knuckles whitening, to prevent from slipping backwards.

Shrugging coyly, you dip further into his personal space. Smelling of beer and perfume, “What do you want it to mean, Chilchuck?”

“You’re not making any sense,” he mutters, bringing up his maizer for a distracting gulp. Clenching his eyes shut when he can still make out the pretty way your lashes crown your cheeks each blink.

That itself is a mistake because now the sugary tones of your voice are further heightened in his reddening ears,

“There’s no shame, Chilchuck, I think you’re plenty cute.”

“Excuse you?” he’s thankful none of your party members catch his exclamation, or the slam of his cup against the table.

“Sorry,” you blurt, a muted gasp preceding your slurring afterthought, “Not cute in a demeaning way. Cute like I think you’d look nice in my bed.”

His jaw clatters to the floor: no way this is the same combat mage he’s been working with for months. The one that could barely return Marcille’s small talk without clamming up. The one that dodges Laios’ every attempt at monster-education. The one that quietly slips out of Falin’s sight whenever a protection spell violating personal space is required. The one that outranks Toshiro in most unapproachable. The one with a most notorious resting frown on their face.

Chilchuck was convinced you didn’t even like him as a coworker until you eagerly sat beside him at the table instead of joining Namari.

“W- what…?”

“You’re really attractive, seriously,” you bumble through the syllables, nose wrinkling in a disarmingly adorable chuckle at yourself, “I sound silly, huh?”

Rather than assure you he hardly cares, or that he’ll silently forget this entire admission, Chilchuck nods curtly and buries his nose into his cup again, “Yep.”

“Sorry, Chilchuck,” voice a coo, you relax back until you’re now invading Laios’ space. Head against the blonde’s shoulder.

Chilchuck’s most horrifying realization is that he’s awfully jealous of Laios in that moment.

But instead of saying that, he snarks bitterly,

“Tell me again when you’re sober.”

“Okay!”

Such sincerity makes him roll his eyes again, and once again he’s full of fondness and affection despite it all. Part of him even mourns how wasted you are, knowing you’ll wake up tomorrow with a headache and no memory of this: returning to the sulky attack mage he barely talks to.

[j4desblurbs]

i needed “kisses on the nose” from the prompt list with logan, like, yesterday

give me my soft man!!

LOVE’S PERFECT ACHE

yes i got the title from a hozier song

summary: logan gets mad at you, and makes it up to you.

warnings: i made this angsty but other than that, no warnings

word count: 1.3k

logan had been acting cold ever since lunch.

curt responses, no petnames, a bit more sarcasm than he would usually use for you. all of these things pointed to something that was your fault.

no matter how much you wracked your brain, you couldn’t think of anything you’d done to make him angry.

it’s not until he walks into your shared room a couple hours later that you find the answer.

“wanna tell me what that was back there?” he says, causing you to look up from your book.

“what?” your eyebrows furrow. what on earth is he talking about?

“with scott. at lunch. talking to him like that?”

you feel like you’ve missed a chapter.

“logan,” you huff out his name with a confused laugh. “what are you talking about?”

“hand on his arm like that? laughing your ass off? what’d he say that was so damn funny, hm?” logan seethes.

you think back to your interaction with scott earlier in the day. it was just like any other time the two of you have spent time together. you weren’t entirely sure what was so alarming about enjoying the company of your friend and teammate.

but then you remembered logan has a temperament, an extreme distaste of scott, and a jealous streak like nobody’s business.

“logan,” you sigh. “it wasn’t like that at all. i was just laughing at a joke he made.”

he scoffs, his tone condescending. “yeah, right.”

you bristle at that. he almost never talks down to you like this. suddenly, a pocket of anger bubbles into your chest. before you know it, you hear yourself saying:

“funny, i never acted like this while you flirted with jean.”

logan stops cold.

“i never flirted with jean.” he says, plain and simple.

you scoff. if there was anything you hated, it was being treated like you were dumb.

“don’t,” you warn. “don’t do that.”

“do what, sugar?” his tone is condescending, demeaning. it brings the beginning of tears to your eyes.

“don’t pretend like i don’t know.” you blink, trying to hold back your tears, but one falls and makes its way down your cheek.

logan falters. he hadn’t meant to make you cry.

“honey-“ he tries, but you brush him off by holding up your hand without another word.

it’s only after you make it to the first empty room you find that you allow yourself to break down. ———————————————————————————

for the rest of the day, logan isolates himself, staying in your room as the hours tick by.

he was never the best at communicating.

by all means, he was trying. he really was, but it was just so goddamn hard sometimes. he could never get the words right and often ended up causing even more damage to whatever situation he’d fucked up in the first place.

he knew you weren’t doing anything with scott, of course he did. but some part of him deep inside couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t enough for you, or someone bad for you. so, when his worst fear was even remotely realized, he lashed out in ugly ways.

logan lets out a sigh. why’d he have to fuck this up? he had never meant to make you cry. it was the last thing he’d ever want. all he’s ever wanted was to give you the love you deserve. to protect you. never to hurt you.

and he couldn’t even do that.

he gets up, putting out his cigar. it was about time he stopped wallowing in his self pity and started looking for you so he could apologize.

he does end up finding you, in a small room off the gym. logan’s heart cracks when he sees you, curled up against the corner, knees to your chest, eyes red.

what had he done?

he says your name, and his chest tightens even more when you visibly bristle at the sound of his voice. the sight’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

logan strides over, kneeling next to you. his hand is warm and strong when he places it on your back, but your body still tenses when you feel his touch.

“have you been here the whole time, bub?” his voice is soft, his familiar scent of tobacco and leather and pine enveloping you and making you almost give in and bury yourself in his arms.

almost.

you give him an almost imperceptible nod of your head, not wanting to speak just yet.

really, you didn’t trust yourself to not burst into tears the second you tried.

he sighs, shifting his position so that he’s in front of you. his hand gently pulls your chin up to make you look at him, his thumb wiping away the tear tracks down your face.

seeing how red your eyes are makes his heart do a slow twist in his chest. he had done this to you. and he wasn’t sure he knew how to fix it.

“i’m sorry.” his voice is quiet, gravelly. “i didn’t mean any of it, honey.”

you finally force yourself to meet his eyes, blinking slowly. he was lying. you knew it, could feel it.

logan rarely said anything he didn’t truly mean.

“i know you did. i know you meant it.” you say, the weak, broken tone of your voice hurting him even more.

“i want to explain. believe me. but i just can’t put what i’m feeling…..together. into words.” logan looks down, his mind racing. he was never good at expressing his feelings, and he was most certainly going to fuck it up if he did it without thinking it out.

“maybe you could try.” your voice, low and cracking slightly from lack of use, breaks him out of his thoughts.

he lets out a soft breath, unsure of how to explain himself. he owes it to you to try. to have what might possibly be the world’s most uncomfortable conversation if it meant that you didn’t loathe him like you did right now. for everything you do for him, it’s the very least he can do for you.

“you mean a lot to me, darlin. a lot more than it might seem. so when i see you talking to another man, happy with another man,” he trails off, a lump forming in his throat. “it hurts me. because every day i doubt that i’m the right one for you. every day i’m terrified that you’ll get tired of me, of us, and leave.”

as he talks, you slowly start to open up, pulling your knees away from your chest and wiping the remnants of your tears away from your face. your hands find his face, cupping his cheeks as you get onto your knees to reach him.

“logan.” your tone is firm. “why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

seeing the man you love, normally so tough and headstrong, almost curl into himself is a strange sight to stomach. logan seems small like this, not because of the way he’s crouched in front of you, but because of the palpability of his fear.

he clears his throat before he speaks, his voice soft. “i didn’t know how to say it.”

his hands come to rest on your waist, pulling you against him into a hug. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, one palm sliding up to rest on your back.

as you reciprocate the hug, you feel the tension melt away from his body, his arms tightening slightly around you as the thought clicks in his head: you still wanted him.

“i’m sorry, baby.” logan whispers into your hair. “i’m so sorry.” he pulls you away from him a little, kissing your forehead, then your cheeks, and finally your nose, resting his forehead against yours afterward.

you close the gap, pressing your lips to his, tasting faintly of tobacco and coffee. he kisses you back with equal gentleness. it’s a sweet, soft kiss that you both melt into.

you relish in the fact that you’ll have many more kisses just like these.

[cute-sucker]

arh i want cowbow rafe :(((( he's so mean and demeaning but you take it bc he's so hot

note: i love this so much, and this is 100% rafe x pup, change my mind!!!

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

he would be the meanest at his house parties.

it might be because he rarely has them...and he would be so demeaning because he knew you could take it as well. your legs thrown over his waist, as he carried you to tannyhill before the two of you get ready for the party.

he's speak so softly to you and you'd completely crumble to his hold, nodding your head at his claims of being a good girl for him - for the evening. he'd be holding you up, as you bounced around hoping that he would speak gently to you. he'd play with you, rough and tough. you would take it though, and promise him all those things.

however.... at the party, you'd get drunk while trying to put on his cowboy boots. he would get so pissed at you whenever you tried to turn into a "cow girl," because he knew it meant you trying to do a cartwheel in those scanty little shorts and flash all of his friends in the process.

instead he'd keep a heavy hand on your waist, as you grinned up to him, slobbering all over his white tee, and trying to tell him that you really really loved him. you'd be scooting all over his lap, trying to get closer so you could pepper kisses on his face. this he would hate the most because he had to act like a 'tough guy,' but the minute that you tried to whisper in his ear, he would groan and try not to kiss you. you'd get more impatient yk, because you loved him so much.

at a certain point of this party you would just hop on his lap, dainty and blinking up to him. lets be honest you'd try to bite his arm, and then promptly fall asleep. all the guys would make fun of him, and lets be honest a grumpy rafe with you sprawled all over his lap was a sight to see.

at this point, he would tell everyone that he was going to come back to drag you to bed, shoving your jaw open to make you swallow the pill, as you moaned about how mean he was. he's annoyed at this point, because all of his friends saw how misbehaved you were, and we all know that rafe thinks it reflects how whipped he is for you. he can hear their whispers saying how dumb he was for letting his girl run wild.

he's tell you to shut up, hand snaking around your shoulders, "shut up before i make you shut up." he'd spit out, and then tuck you into bed at gently as he could trying not to look at the way your eyes welled up with tears, as you pouted at him, trembling at you held out to the sheets of the bed. and after that he'd get back down to the party, listening to the guys joke around.

at one point he would let out a deep breath, knowing you were safe and sound in your bed. but of course, of course you came back down later on at the night. this time you were in your scanty pyjamas, where he was 100% sure you were not wearing panties as he huffed when you came down. you'd almost slipped on your way down, whimpering for rafe.

the minute you saw him, you jumped into his arms, as he clenched his jaw. "what is it?" he tried to say gently but it came out so roughly, you shivered. "what is it?"

"didn't like sleeping alone. i can't take it. there was this guy in our bed," you whimpered out, "he was watching me, i swear rafe. it was so scary and he was petting my head."

that caught his attention, turning around to check who was there. "what the fuck did you say?" he hisses out, before you flinch, and step away from him. "what did he look like?" you close your eyes, and shook your head, confused.

"don't know who he was, i got out of bed and ran. think he was wearing a brown shirt, and the cowboy hat"

at this point rafe is about to burst a vien as he closes his eyes. "alright, how about we end this party 'yea?" he murmured, and pushes your trembling figure into his hands, possessively placing his hand on that small part of your back.

by the end of the night, the two of you are huddled in bed, as you sleepily drool in his tight embrace. he can't help but feel confused at your previous statement, thinking about the creep in your bed. suddenly your small hand reaches out to touch his stubble, and he looks down at you pawing at his chest. you let out a small yelp, giving him a sweet drowsy smile.

"rafe, i wanna tell you a secret," you whisper, before pushing up in the bed to reach his ear. rafe groans before lowering himself, muttering something under his breath. you giggle softly, before giving him a little kiss on his neck.

"there was no one rafe. i lied. just wanted you in bed, and those awful people to go away. 'm sorry" you whisper painstakingly, "don't be mad please."

somehow he isn't mad, and instead he gently tells you to shut your eyes, and go to sleep.

he'll deal with your bratty behavior later.

[yauchfilms]

anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment. 

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation. 

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?” 

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked. 

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing. 

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it. 

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family. 

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables. 

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,”  mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression. 

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt. 

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror. 

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area. 

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you.  “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam. 

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right. 

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him. 

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy. 

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment. 

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin. 

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin. 

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it. 

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it. 

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you. 

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise. 

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you. 

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle. 

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back. 

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him. 

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you. 

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful. 

between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye. 

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.  

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek. 

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him. 

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery. 

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass. 

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you. 

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long. 

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor. 

“i thought you said we weren’t–” 

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch. 

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast. 

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest. 

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were. 

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later. 

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point. 

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds. 

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means. 

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly. 

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers. 

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you. 

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers. 

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband. 

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way. 

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel. 

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready. 

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue. 

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach. 

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth. 

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come. 

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you. 

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you. 

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides. 

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm. 

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks. 

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen. 

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

Danger

Colt Seavers x fem!reader

a/n: hey team! surprise! also, i despise the way this turned out. but i haven’t written in ages, so i guess I’ve gotta start somewhere. if it’s shit, i apologize in advance! but enjoy!!!

summary: you have an issue with your boyfriend’s addiction to danger. he doesn’t see the problem. but will he see it when the shoe is on the other foot?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“you’re not listening to me.”

“no, i hear you loud and clear. you don’t agree with me doing my job.”

you and colt have been at it for the entirety of your lunch break. this all started when you heard from your coworker, hannah, in the animal welfare department that colt had agreed to perform a stunt involving him leaping from one helicopter to another. you were outraged to hear this through the grapevine instead of from your own boyfriend.

so, when he walked into your tent during lunch with that stupid smirk on his face, you just lost it. needless to say, he was not receptive to your worries.

you sigh, running your hand through your hair frustratedly. “that is not what i’m saying and you know it, colt. i’m just saying i can tell you’re getting riskier and riskier. this isn’t a car roll we’re talking about here, colt. this is literally leaping through the air. something that could absolutely be done through vfx.”

he takes a deep breath, trying to calm the conversation down. “you just don’t get it. the pressure to agree to something when you’re on set with everyone watching you…you just don’t get it.”

you furrowed your brows at this. “i don’t get it? i work on a film set too, in case you forgot.”

he can feel tensions are high, so he attempts once more to calm things by making a joke…one that happens to be in very poor taste.

“i mean, technically, but, don’t you just sit in your trailer all day and tell dogs to sit and stay? it’s not like you’re actually experiencing the pressures of hollywood,” he says with a chuckle.

your heart drops at that. no way did he just demean your entire life’s work to ‘telling dogs to sit and stay’. you’ve worked for years to be a professional animal trainer for screen and stage. it’s been your dream since you were a little girl growing up helping your parents with the animal sanctuary they founded.

“what did you just say?” you ask, shocked.

you see the fear on his face as he realizes the implications of his own words. “oh my god, no, i didn’t mean-“

you cut him off, a look of pure betrayal on your face. “no, i know exactly what you meant. now, if you’ll excuse me, i have to get some dogs to sit.”

“baby, wait, i-“

“out, seavers,” you demanded.

colt knew upon hearing you call him by his last name that there was no mending this right now, so he nodded his head in defeat and slowly left your tent.

you sat down in your chair and put your head in your hands, trying not to cry. deep down, you knew he was just trying to ease the tension of the situation with his typical colt-seavers-awkward-humor. but you just couldn’t shake the feeling his words left you with. he knew how hard you had worked for this position and how demeaning people could be about it. you just never thought that your biggest insecurity would be the bud of one of his jokes.

taking a deep breath, you stand up and try to shake off your argument. you had work to do.

~

meanwhile, colt is back on set, trying his best to focus as dan briefs him on what his airplane jump will look like. understandably, the stunt man is having trouble focusing. all he can think about is the look of complete and utter betrayal on your face after he made that joke. that stupid fucking joke. why couldn’t he have thought before he spoke, just this once?

“earth to seavers…” dan snaps in colt’s face, trying to get his attention.

“sorry, dan, you were saying?”

dan rolls his eyes. “you might wanna listen to this, considering it’s going to be one of the most dangerous stunts ever performed.”

colt cringes at that. “actually, dan, on second thought-“

dan’s walkie interrupts the conversation as a panicked voice comes through.

“we have a code red in animal welfare, code red in animal welfare.”

colt’s eyes widen at that. “dan, what the fuck does that mean?”

dan puts up a hand to shut colt up. “shhhh, i’m trying to hear it-“

“everyone please clear the area, emts to animal welfare, emts to animal welfare.”

dan speaks into the walkie. “can we request some elaboration on the situation please?”

the walkie beeps with a response. “koda got spooked.”

colt is terrified at this point, his heartbeat ringing in his ears. “dan…isn’t koda a black bear?”

dan slowly nods his head, worry prominent on his face.

“colt, i think you’ve gotta get to animal welfare. this could be bad.”

~

as you slowly regain consciousness, the first thing you notice is that you can only see half as well as usual. you lift your hand up to your face with a shaky hand and make contact with gauze that seems to be covering half of your face.

“oh fuck.“

your words startled a certain fall guy out of his slumber. upon noticing the panic on your face, he’s quick to move to your side.

“hey, sweetheart, how are you doing?” he gently asks.

“that depends,” you start slowly, “do i still have two eyes?”

he stifles a laugh at your blunt response. “yeah, don’t worry. you still have two eyes. it was a close one, though. he got you pretty good.”

you look at him confused. “what even happened? all i remember is koda getting overwhelmed and going to jump on me. everything else is lost on me.”

colt sighed. “you were knocked unconscious once you hit the ground, but from there koda did some damage with his claws. luckily, hannah was able to get him off of you before he-“ his breath hitches at the thought.

you squeeze his hand. “hey, it’s okay. it’s all okay.”

colt’s face crumples at this as tears fall down his face. you take his face in your hands and gently wipe his tears away. “what is it, honey?”

“i get it now. getting the call on the walkie. i get it. my heart fucking stopped because i thought that you were gonna-“

you press a kiss to his forehead. “shhh. i didn’t, though.”

“but you could’ve, and the last thing i would’ve said to you was that dumb joke that was the opposite of the truth,” he sobbed out.

“baby, i know that. i was just upset in the moment because it hit a sore spot, but of course i knew your true intentions. we’re okay, yeah?” you stroke his hair to calm him down, and the two of you sit there for a moment until his sobs become sniffles.

you bask in the silence, happy to still be alive and still be with him.

“i’m not doing it.”

upon your curious look, colt continues.

“the plane stunt. i’m not doing it.”

you sigh. “i just worry, but ultimately you do know best-“

he cuts you off. “no, no. i learned today how terrifying it is to watch you in danger of losing your life. i can’t imagine how you feel everyday on set. i’m not doing it.”

you smile. “well, i can’t say i’m not relieved to hear that.”

he smiles back at you.

“i love you, darling.”

“i love you right back, fall guy.”

[vivwritesfics]

Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Four - Bunny

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

1.9K

Warnings: smut! P in v! Oral (male!receiving)

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Max hated these kinds of meetings. Standing by his fathers side, looking like some loyal dog. But he came when he was called, so what more was he?

As ever, Max stood at his fathers side, waiting for Dupont and his guest to arrive. The Verstappen meeting room was pathetic. It was designed like a throne room, with Max stood beside the 'Throne' as his father looked down on his guests.

It was meant to make Jos feel powerful, Max knew. It made him smirk. The only reason his father had power in the first place was because of his kill streak, something Max had quite easily already doubled.

The doors flew open and Dupont strode in. It was like something out of a period piece, the way he approached Jos' 'Throne'. Max half expected him to drop onto his knee, head bowed and hand on the pommel of a sword that wasn't there.

That, of course, didn't happen.

"Dupont," called Jos, his demeaner that same calm that he usually wore in front of his guests. Max knew a different side of his father, the side that would strike first and ask questions later. Even against his own children. "You don't normally travel alone."

Looking back on it, the smile Dupont wore was sickening. He was lucky Max didn't shoot him where he stood. Given another chance, if he could have gone back and done it all over again, he would have.

"Verstappen, you know I never travel alone," said Dupont, that sickening smile widening. The doors were thrown open again, and Max hated the way his breath caught in his throat.

She couldn't have been there. She knew Charles Leclerc, but that meant nothing. Why the fuck was she here?

"This is my daughter," said Dupont as she came to stand beside him. He announced her name to the room and she finally looked up, finally looked at Max.

He bit his tongue as she looked at him, recognition crossing her face. But she easily schooled her features, that pretty smile he hadn't stopped thinking about since he met her crossing her lips. "It is lovely to meet you, sir," she said as she strode towards Jos with her hand outstretched.

In Jos' typical, misogynistic fashion, he ignored her in favour of her father. "Isn't this a treat?" Called Jos as Max took her hand in his, shook it and squeezed. He hoped it was at least a little reassuring. "Much more my style than your usual company."

The polite, pretty smile dropped from her face at that. She returned to her fathers side, but even that didn't make her feel safe. Max could see it by the look on her face. She didn't belong in this room, a room that had seen so much destruction and death, standing with the men that had caused it.

Max stepped towards his fathers 'Throne'. He leaned down and whispered something in Jos' ear. When Jos nodded, he stepped towards the Duponts. Stopping in front of her, he offered her his hand.

When her father nodded, she took Max's hand and allowed herself to be led out of the room. "Hey, Bun," he whispered as he pulled the door shut behind them. And suddenly, she was shy beneath his gaze. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here?"

"Well, I didn't know," she said as she stepped towards him, hands smoothing over his suit jacket. "If I knew you were gonna be here, I would have been a lot more willing."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, but Max gently removed them. "Angel," he said, the nickname easily slipping from his lips. "I'm not started a war with Charles Leclerc because he think's I'm stepping on his toes."

She glared at a spot on his white shirt, someone else's blood that had definitely stained. "Charlie always ruins my fun," she mumbled and folded her arms over her chest. "That asshole can't even let me have fun in a completely different country."

Max didn't try to hide his confusion. "Wait," he began, brows furrowed. "Charles isn't your boyfriend?"

She was laughing at him, but it was such a pretty laugh that he didn't much mind. He could listen to it all day, even if it was at his expense. "Boyfriend? No way," she said, tongue poking between her teeth as she laughed. "He's more like an overly enthusiastic guard dog."

"So, if he saw us now, he'd chop off my balls?" Max challenged.

The smirk that crossed her features was so fucking pretty. But Max wasn't afforded much time to appreciate it. She stepped towards him, one hand settling on the back of his neck as the other ghosted over the button of his trousers, cupping his cock through the fabric. "Holy shit, he couldn't breathe.

"Angel," he said with warning, and she didn't bother to correct him.

"Charles would have your balls in a vice," she said and gave a light squeeze. "But I like to think I'm worth it."

Their fathers were in a business meeting in the next room, and they were meant to be keeping things professional. But those eight words were all it took before Max had her pressed against the wall, lips against her own. She couldn't stop herself from drawing in a breath, mouth opening enough for Max to slip his tongue inside.

Ever since they'd left that room, Max hadn't been the one in control. It had been her, her pretty smiles, pouts and touchers that had him practically bending to her every whim.

He pulled away, only to lean back in and drag her bottom lip between his teeth. "Angel," he said breathlessly, hands holding her lips. "We can't."

"I don't care," she replied, the words tumbling from her pretty lips. Threading her manicured nails through his hair, she pulled him in for another searing kiss. And, just like that, Max had handed all control over to her.

He would have taken her to a bedroom, would have loved to see her body between white sheets. But she was calling the shots, and Max soon realised that Angel wasn't as fitting a name as once thought.

She opened the first door she came to and pushed Max into the room. Except, it wasn't a room, was it? It was a stage closet, full of cleaning supplies.

Max shook his head as she looked around the small, dark space. "Let me take you to a bedroom, Angel," he said quietly.

Her only answer was to push the straps of her pretty, lilac dress down. Max's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as she looked at her. He liked to think he had more self control, but he couldn't pull his eyes away from her breasts, or at least what he could see.

He was like a man possessed as he gently pushed her back against the wall and attached his lips to her own. It was rough, and forceful, her moans only spurring him on.

Max grabbed her leg and lifted it, wrapping it around him. She tugged at his hair and Max pressed his hips against her own, keeping her held against the wall.

"Fuck, Angel," he said through a moan.

Her hands were on his trousers again, popping the button, pulling down his zipper and reaching inside. But her touch was only brief. She pulled away to pull up her own skirts and move Max's hands to where she wanted him.

As soon as she had his hands under her skirts, Max squeezed the flesh of her ass. She let out a gasp, devilish smile playing on her lips as she reached back into his trousers. "That's better," she mumbled and pressed her lips against his neck.

His hand moved from her ass, ghosted over her hips, feeling the waistband of her panties. Light and lacy. She jutted her hip out, pushing it further into his hand. Max slipped his finger beneath the waistband and pulled back, letting it snap against her skin.

A breathy moan left her lips as she pulled away from his neck, leaving purple bruises behind. Max was still under her gaze as she took a moment to look at him, to admire her handiwork.

And then it was Max's turn. He leaned in and trailed his lips across her neck, down to her breasts. His fingers moved from her hip, coming to rest on her back. There was just a moment where he just kissed her skin. Not leaving any marks, hands still on her back as he kissed her skin. The little whines leaving her lips made it all worth it.

Max pulled down the zipper of her dress. The way he was holding her, though, it kept the dress against her body, maybe just slipping down a little bit.

He hadn't meant to check his watch. But they'd spent so much time doing this foreplay, they couldn't have had long "Angel-"

But she stepped away from him, let her dress fall to the floor and pulled down her panties. She held them up, delicate smile on her lips. "Are you gonna fuck me?" Shs whispered and tucked the panties into his pocket.

What more could Max say as he freed himself from his pants. She wordlessly dropped to her knees (she was far too pretty to be on her knees), and took his cock into her mouth.

Pretty, painted lilac fingers were wrapped around his cock and she swirled her tongue around his tip. Max couldn't stop his eyes from shutting as she moved, bobbing her head. "Holy fuck," Max gasped as he rested his hand on her head. He didn't push her, didn't speed her up, just held his hand there.

If she kept going like this, Max was going to cum. "Angel, please," Max whispered and she looked up at him through watery eyes. What a fucking sight.

She released him with a pop! and stood up. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him back until he had her pressed against the wall. "Fuck me, Maxie," she whispered. "Make me scream."

He pulled her leg around him and guided himself inside. She had her head against his shoulder, sinking her teeth in as Max pushed himself through her folds. "That's it," he said as he held her. "You're doing so good."

She lifted her hand slightly, trembling as Max stilled inside of her. "Good girl," he whispered and kissed her cheeks.

Slowly, Max began moving his hips. He didn't pull back very far, keeping her held tight to him as he pushed back in. The noises she released from her throat were the sweetest. If he could have, Max would have listened to them on a loop for the rest of his life.

It wasn't like Max's usual sex. Usually it was rough, bruising touches as he fucked whoever he had taken back to his bed that night.

But this, it was sweet and slow. Max savoured every moment, the feeling of her cunt clenching around him, the way she gripped onto his shoulders. "Max," she cried, eyes shut. "I-"

"I've got you, Angel," he whispered. "Let go."

And she did. With one final high pitched cry, she let herself cum. Max held her, kept himself moving, helping her to ride out her high.

He could have cum inside of her, could have easily let himself fall over the edge as her cunt held him. But not today.

He pulled out and she let out a pitiful whine as he came on her stomach. Max helped her to the floor as she took her finger and wiped the cum from her stomach, bringing it to her lips.

Holy fuck, she was going to be the death of him.

a/n: I'm sorry for everyone that didn't get tagged in the last one!! Pls note chapter three exists and is on the series masterlist if you missed it

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[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Eternal

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.2K WC

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Warnings: yelling, Astarion being a dick, arguing, angst, hurt/comfort, #sadgirlhours @ me bitches (it’s me, I’m bitches), ends fluffy because I can't stay mad at my baby

------------------

Astarion had been in a bad mood the whole day. You noticed it this morning when you woke up without him. You found him down by the stream, he had ignored you a bit. You left him be, thinking he was just not in the mood to talk that early. However, he seemed to be avoiding you and whenever you were in his general vicinity he seemed… irritated? You were beyond confused, everything had been going well for months, you had little bickering spats but nothing serious. Your worst fears broke into your mind; did he want to break up? No, of course not. That’s silly. You willed your feet to walk to him at the campfire. He ignored your presence until you sat next to him. Close enough to bump shoulders. Astarion shuddered away from you. That hurt, yet you persisted. You were jovial and elated, talking and laughing with the others around the fire. You turned to kiss Astarion’s cheek and hold his hand. 

He scoffed before untangling himself from you, “Gods Y/N stop! Stop being so clingy its fucking infuriating.” he said loudly. 

Camp was silent, the others looking at Astarion before looking at you. You were petrified, your breathing had stopped. You felt your eyes welling up with tears. You slowly stood up from the log and started walking to your tent.

“Y/N…” Karlach whispered. Shadowheart gently held your arm before you patted her hand, giving her the most broken smile. You kept walking until you were able to curl up in a ball, in private and let your sobs out into your pillow. 

--------------------------

“What the fuck?” Shadowheart snapped at Astarion as soon as you were inside your tent. 

“What? Lovers can’t quarrel?” Astarion huffed out looking away from everyone. The ball of shame inside him started to consume him. 

“Quarrel? Yes. Yell and demean? No. You hurt them Astarion, lovers don’t do that.” Gale chimed in.

“Always tell the truth is my motto, they needed to hear it.” Astarion waved everyone off, trying his best to sound his regular posh self. 

“Yeah, well, here's a truth for you - you're an asshole.” Karlach said, glaring before her and Shadowheart sauntered off to your tent to comfort you. 

Wyll walked away shaking his head in disapproval. Gale walked to his tent but stopped in front of Astarion, softly clapping his hand onto his shoulder. “They worry you know? About everything when it comes to you two. Their thoughts about it are so loud I hear them nonstop. It's quite deafening actually. Do you want to know what I hear now?” 

Astarion’s eyes turned soft, he was almost afraid to know but nodded anyway.

“Fear. Of losing you. Of overstepping your physical boundaries. Of being kicked out of camp. Of existing… I know you feel deeply for Y/N but they do not deserve to feel this way. If you are going to treat them like this, end it. I do not like to see my friends in anguish, and right now, they are suffering. Thanks to you.” Astarion had never seen Gale so stoic, so protective. And worst of all, Gale was right. 

Astarion hung his head, he rubbed his hands over his face in frustration before pushing past Gale. Astarion quietly made his way to your tent. The sight inside broke him down completely. There you were, crying into Karlach’s chest as Shadowheart held your hand and whispered honeyed words to you. Astarion gathered some courage before taking in a sharp breath and walking in. The women immediately glared at him. If looks could kill, he’d be back in that coffin, 6 feet under. He put his hands up, showing he meant no harm. You sat up, finally looking at Astarion. You wiped your face of tears. You nodded at the women, letting them know you could hold your own in this moment. They left the tent, both of them “accidentally” shoving Astarion’s shoulder. 

Your lip was quivering and you felt a lump in your throat, you swallowed it down before saying “Say your piece.”

Scared! Run! Hide! Astarion’s tadpole wriggled and screamed at him. You really were scared of him, the thought itself killed him. 

“Little love…” he whispered, trying to take your hand. You yanked it away and scooted further away from him. Hurt flashed across his eyes and he had nobody to blame but himself. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry…” he spoke quickly, unfamiliar still with trying to communicate his feelings. 

“Did I do something wrong?” you whispered, the lump forming again quickly. 

Astarion wanted so badly to hold you. Truth was you weren’t clingy. You were perfect. A fucking saint actually. He was incredibly lucky to have such a kind soul love him. He loved you more than anyone, anything. All the malice in his body melted away in that moment. “No, my sweet. I… Truth be told, I have been in a sour mood for a while.” he did his best to explain.

Your face dropped even further, “Do you want to break up?” your voice wavered heavily. You didn’t want to keep him trapped if that is how he felt. It would break you but not all broken things are lost. You would mend, eventually. He would be a jagged scar across your heart and soul. 

Astarion’s head snapped up, “No!” he said frantically, crawling a bit closer to you. You backed up a bit before stilling, he looked… guilty? “I… I am sorry… It’s still hard to talk about how I feel… and I am… anxious.” he forced out. 

“About?” you asked softly, straightening your back so you and Astarion were about an arms length away.

“I… worry. About us… after all this is over… about what life looks like. I’m… I’m afraid that if I cannot walk in the sun you will…” he stuttered out his response, fear was now his to host inside. 

“Leave?” you said with a look of surprise on your face. 

Astarion nodded, eyes flitting between yours. He looked vulnerable and subdued. 

“I will follow you anywhere. I would burn the world for you. I would slay the sun and bathe the world in darkness for you. Nothing can separate my soul from yours. I love you.” You said with confidence, and yet there was gentleness in it. 

Astarion’s eyes glossed over a bit. “I love you… it’s why I’m so scared… I don’t want to be alone again… I’m so sorry. ” he let out a sniffle. 

That was enough for you. You pulled him into a tight hug, “And you never will be, not if I have any say in the matter.”  

He hugged you back just as tight. “I love you. I love your touch. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you.” he mumbled into the crook of your neck. 

You shushed him and kissed his cheek, pulling back to look at him. “I am yours. You are mine. From this day until my last day. The sun has no bearing on the matter.” you whispered on his lips. He nipped your lip before kissing you hungrily.

“Good…” he said in between kisses, “selfless as I am, I’m not ready to let you go.”

You giggled as he kissed over your face, his hands wandering as far as you’d allow. You drank him in, both of your worries devoured by your equal, undying love for one another.

------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello!!! Another little fic that popped into my head today. Work is exhausting and its only Monday :') ughhhhhhh...... might have to wait a bit to get another fic out but I hope you guy's like this one! As always - thank you for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! Stay safe out there ya'll - ILYSM <3 xoxoxoxoxo

[webslingingslasher]

HI BESTIE idk if this ask went through but! grumpy x sunshine trope/i hate everyone but you trope with peter and reader? like sweet boy peter with an absolute menace of a gf whos only soft for him <3

ok so i imagine this in a few different ways. 

the first way is the ‘touch him or hurt him and i’ll kill you’ way

“Don’t fucking talk to him that way!” 

You barked orders at Flash so harshly he winced and turned his eyes to the table, he couldn’t look at your direct stare of a thousand burning fires. Your voice was sharp like a whip and curled around his throat, it even made Ned and MJ look down, afraid to add fuel. 

Turning your head back to Peter you soften your eyes and coo at him, you bring your hand to his shoulder and squeeze, it makes him look at you. He wears a soft grin, it tells you that he’s just fine, you want confirmation. 

“Are you okay, honey?” 

Peter places his hand on yours, “I’m okay, I don’t think Flash meant much harm.” 

“Didn’t know you had a guard dog, penis.” Flash’s words are mumbled but you seeth, no one was allowed to talk about Peter that way. 

Your hand comes down on the table, Ned jumps but stays quiet as you hiss words out at him. 

“The only dog here is you, don’t demean my boyfriend you fucking piece of -” 

Peter’s hand pulls at your elbow, his best attempt at stopping you but MJ called your name out cutting you off, Ned flickered between you and Flash, if looks could kill he’d be dead. 

“Flash is an idiot, don’t waste your breath.” 

Flash whines at the comment but resides when you huff and agree, finding Peter’s hand to hold in your own. 

Peter leans in to whisper in your ear, warmth coats your cheek when his lips brush against your earlobe, “easy killer, you don’t need his mom suing you for emotional distress.” You pout at his words and move to whisper in his, peter’s thumb swipes at the back of your hand, “but he was mean to you.” 

You lean into Peter when he presses a kiss to your cheek, his lips move against the skin. 

“He was, wasn’t he?” 

—-------------------------------------------

the second kind has gotta be when you’re upset but only peter can calm you down

May was in a panic, you were standing in the middle of her living room with your arms wrapped around you crying. She’s never seen you so upset, you’ve always been cool calm and collected around her, imagine her surprise when she opened the door to your shaky knocks and sobs. 

“Oh, honey!” Her hand reaches out to grab at your shoulder, you move to dodge her touch. It wasn’t anything to do with May but there was only one person who could calm you down right now and it wasn’t May. 

You feel a prickle at her frown, “I need peter.” You speak between shaky breaths, concentration on getting your words out, May looks real sad, “he’s not here right now, honey. Come in, I’ll give him a call.” 

You don’t even feel your legs move, they carry you to a stop in the middle of the room, you can’t even get to the couch. They feel like lead, you hold yourself steady, it took almost everything in you to come to peter and he wasn’t even here, instead you have May’s sad eyes and you’re not sure to open up to her yet. 

“Peter? I need you to come home right now, yes, everything’s okay, just as soon as you can, okay?” 

May knows you heard her, but you still blankly cry and stare at the floor, shaky breaths escape quickly. You jump when May’s hand grazes your elbow, “sweetheart, please come take a seat.” She knows you’re not too fond on touch, or attention from her, and she knows she can be a bit overboard with it, but this was one of those times she couldn’t rein it in and she needed you to feel her love. 

You nod, and even lean into her hold when she pushes you to the couch. It makes May’s heart soares, she doesn’t take the moment for granted and settles you before rushing to get you water. You sniffle and wipe tears, you appreciate May but she’s not who you need. 

Within minutes the front door swings open, May gives him wide eyes, she’s sitting on the coffee table in front of you, you keep your eyes on your shoes, you punish yourself for not taking them off, you know May hates that. 

“May! What’s- Baby?” 

Peter’s eyes hit his aunts the second he sails through the door until his attention is called to the back of your head on the couch, then he gets a sinking feeling in his chest. May’s eyes give him a sense of urgency, he rounds the couch and feels like his hearts been punched when he sees you’ve been crying. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Your lower lip wobbles, you were feeling better, May had been gentle enough the initial upset went away but having your comfort person look at you with sad caring eyes it made all the pain and hurt flood back, fat tears drop and May flys up to move Peter in, she hides in the kitchen. 

“Hey, hey, hey, stop crying, I’m here.” Peter sits in the space next to you and wraps his arms around you, his love swallows you and makes you find comfort in his chest. 

—---------------------------

but yeah, i see so many ways this fitting cause this is the mcu peter/mj trope and i love it so much 

[2-dsimp]

Can I request Yandere siren venti angst (like with a reader whose trying to hunt down mermaids and sirens for their scales ) for the Mytherials event, if you have time

A Sirens scales———————————

Yandere siren! Venti x hunter reader

————————————～—————～——————～———————～

【Cw: yandere tendencies, imprisonment, delulu venti, toxic relationship, slight angst】

————————————～—————～——————～———————～

“Oh honey it’s a virtue of mine to value freedom, but where do you think you’re going?”

Venti cooed, his lax feature’s sharpening into a grimacing smile as he noticed his darling chipping at the chain which encased their ankle.

“ The only way to the surface is to swim through this lagoon and I don’t think you have the lung capacity for that”

His head was peeking out from the watery surface of the underground lagoon. And he swam fluidly towards the spot where he held you captive surrounded by a shimmery circle of his blue iridescent scales.

“We had a deal… And this wasn’t part of it. I didn’t sign up to be your damn cave decoration”

You spat, a look of scorn apparent as you couldn’t help but berate yourself for being so dumb as to break monster hunter rule 101: To never trust the words of a siren, lest they drag your soul to depths of hell. But you were desperate for the money since you had a sick friend to take care of.

“Awe sweetheart don’t demean yourself like that. You’re no decoration but my lovely mate after all”

The siren purred as he emerged fully from the body of water to cast a wet hand against your cheek. Admiring you in your entirety, his touch that was gentle soon became all consuming after hearing your adamant rejection.

“What’re you talking about? I never agreed to become your mate. Just let me go home.”

You retorted as you continued to make work of the chain. While actively shying away from his slimy touch. The stark scent of sea salt made you nauseous.

“Don’t say that. You are my mate sweetie. Weren’t you the one to say that you wanted my scales to begin with?”

Venti tried to rationalize with a small chuckle as he started to apply pressure when he cupped both your cheeks. Sharp nails dug into your damp skin while he directed your gaze to his crazed ones.

“So why are you trying so hard to deny it?”

He asked, his voice was hollow as he stared deeply into your eyes with wide blown slits. You had to have known what accepting his scales would entail. So why couldn’t you understand that you guys were meant to be? He gave you his scales did he not? So why, were you trying so hard to constantly reject his advances.

You didn’t need to go back to the surface. Not after all the struggles you’ve told him about with your stay up there. What kind of lover would he be if he were to allow his precious human to be exposed to the dangers beyond his reach.

“Oh I know what’s holding you back! It’s that friend of yours isn’t? What’s his name, Ah it’s şçæřämœćħè right?”

Venti begrudgingly sounded out his name in clear distaste and didn’t know whether to laugh or sneer from how you immediately perked up at the mere mention of another man’s name. He couldn’t help but feel an envious bout of jealousy boiling deep within his gut. Well at least he knew what his priority should be, if the only thing tethering you to the surface was your friend then perhaps he could remedy that.

“Well rest assured your pretty little head darling! I’ll make sure to take extra care of him so sit tight I’ll have to make some trips”

In the end sure he did twist his words a little when he struck a deal with you, who seemed to be down on their luck. Promising you his scales in exchange for your prized company. Since he’s always been enamored watching your daily pathetic attempts at capturing a siren.

But he did uphold his end of the bargain did he not? He made sure to pluck out his scales and pile them around you enshrouding you in their glimmering shine. So it’s only fair that you start acting like a proper mate for him since he’ll be expecting a cave full of his guppies in the future.

[muqingfx]

can you write mu qing being nursed back to health against his wishes please. he would never admit it even if it meant dying (cough.. mt tonglu lava scene.. cough) so it's what he deserves

anon didnt specify for ships, so i did what any normal person would do. four of them. whether its platonic or romantic is totally up to you!

"Let. Me," Mu Qing struggles against Xie Lian's vice-like grip with gritted teeth "go." He swings his fist to land a blow on his friend's jaw in an attempt to break free, but his punch is deterred by yet another nuisance.

“Feng Xin,” Mu Qing hisses, vision still blurry. If it weren't for Xie Lian’s hold on him, Mu Qing would have shamefully collapsed head-first into the dirt.

“Mu Qing,” he hears Xie Lian say softly, “you just need some rest.”

“You don't get to strangle me!” Mu Qing retaliates, kicking and screaming like a child.

From beside him, he hears Feng Xin click his tongue. “We’re not fucking strangling you. And if you weren't so fucking difficult–”

“Just leave me alone!” Mu Qing finally manages to shove them both away. Are his eyes playing tricks on him again or is he swaying on his feet? “Why can't you just… let me be?” he catches himself asking before tumbling to the ground.

“Bloody rascal, how on earth did this happen?”

“I think they used a spell to weaken his body. His spiritual powers are still depleted–if might take a while for it to rise up again on it’s own, San Lang.”

“Then, what does gege suggest we do?”

Mu Qing winces when something wet presses against his abdomen. His eyes flutter open, yet all he sees is solid darkness.

“He’s waking up!” he hears Feng Xin say. “Mu Qing, can you hear me.”

Of course I can hear your, oaf, is what Mu Qing tries to say, but his voice catches at his throat.

A cold palm presses against his forehead and Mu Qing wants nothing more than to slap it off.

“He’s burning up.” Hua Cheng. The hand moves further down his face, fingertips brushing against his eyelids. There’s a brief moment of utter vulnerability, as if Mu Qing is giving up his soul for another. But then his vision clears, and he sees three very different expressions on familiar faces.

Xie Lian’s temple is creased, his mouth downturned as he stares at Mu Qing’s face. And upon glancing down, he sees Xie Lian’s hand squeezing his own. A face of unhidden concern; pity. Something dark brews inside him as he processes that–being a damsel in distress, the General of the Southwest. Ridiculous.

Feng Xin is kneeling on the mat beside him, a damp cloth in his hand. His thick brows are furrowed as he scowls at Mu Qing. Strands of brunette hair fall over his face, his usually somewhat-neat bun now undone. He looks tired, annoyed. At Mu Qing. For what, wasting his time? For being so infirm and demanding attention? Nobody asked him to take care of Mu Qing, that imbecile.

And then there's the beast of a man, Hua Cheng. Hands folded across his chest, he looks as nonchalant as ever. His eyes sear into Mu Qing, bored and degrading.

Mu Qing feels the headache he had woken up with aggravate.

“Why am I being gawked at like some pathetic critter?” It comes out coarse and rough, his throat still aching and sore.

“Pathetic, indeed,” Hua Cheng sneers.

A knot tightens in his gut, the humiliation finally settling in. Gathering the strength to do so, Mu Qing lifts himself so his elbows support his weight. A sharp pain surges through him and both Xie Lian and Feng Xin scramble to grasp his arms, preventing the demeaning fall.

“Careful, Mu Qing,” Xie Lian chides. His fingers dig into Mu Qing’s skin–wait, where are his clothes?!

As if reading his mind, Feng Xin says, “Your clothes are ruined. Covered in fucking blood. We took it off so we could dress your wounds. Which are fucking bad, by the way.”

“Fuck you guys, that doesn't mean you can strip me of my robes. I’m not a doll.”

He feels Xie Lian’s hold on him weaken, a flicker of hurt passing through his eyes–did Mu Qing go too far?

“I don't mean–I… that's not. What I. You know. I’m–”

The bed dips on his right, and Mu Qing trails off. From his peripheral vision, he sees Hua Cheng taking off his own upper robe.

“If you're so uncomfortable,” he says casually, “you can put this on, general.” The ghost king drapes his red upper robe over Mu Qing’s shoulder, and his touch is so gentle, so tender, Mu Qing actually trembles.

“Cold?” he asks, right into Mu Qing’s ear. Mu Qing’s head tips forward to bypass Hua Cheng’s warm–how is it warm when he’s dead–breath. When he glances up, he locks eyes with Xie Lian, who pouts with his eyes wide like a deer’s.

“We’re not strangers.” his palms cup Mu Qing’s cheeks, and he finds himself leaning towards the touch. “We’re your friends.”

“Yeah, jackass. Stop pushing us away with every inch of your fucking life. It’s fucking annoying,” Feng Xin just has to add.

Mu Qing turns his head to glare, but Feng Xin smiles like a maniac instead of glaring right back. It’s fond and adoring and completely unlike him.

Hua Cheng scoffs from beside him. “It’s really not that hard to let yourself be spoiled, just for a little bit. You're too hard on yourself, Xuan Zhen.”

“Fucking hate to agree with Hua Cheng,” he hears Feng Xin mutter.

“Ugh…” Mu Qing hides his face with his hands, embarrassed. He’s sure he looks nothing less than a tomato.

Xie Lian’s chuckle fills the air and Mu Qing thinks that maybe this isn't so bad.

This is nice.

He might not want this again, or he definitely will want this again.

[nariyahcore]

Sonic and Nine make a toxic duo/“sibling” relationship

And why Silver could easily fit into that dynamic instead

I have mentioned this before not too long ago, but never got the chance to elaborate on why I personally do not like Sonic and Nine as “brothers”. So!!! I’ll take advantage and explain why Silver and Nine are a much better duo :]]

BUT FIRST!!! I want to credit my pookie @abs9lution who came up with this duo in the first place! i have their thread that elaborates further on silver and nine’s dynamic at the end of this post if you’d like to check it out! it also includes a thread on what’ll happen to silver and blaze’s dynamic, and why Blaze’s character was downgraded throughout the years

the end of this post also includes a tldr for those who don’t have the patience to read all this yapping (it’s okay me too 😭)

Table of Contents:

i. sonic and nine’s toxic relationship

ii. explaining how silver’s addition would’ve mattered in sonic prime

iii. why silver and nine would make a better duo as brothers

I. Sonic and Nine, and why their dynamic does not work out.

I feel like I could go on for AGES as to why i genuinely dislike Sonic and Nine as a duo, because there’s just so many things wrong with these two 😭

If you’ve watched Sonic Prime then you’d know Sonic’s goal was to simply bring back Green Hills, with the help of the friends he made along the way.

This also includes Nine (momentarily) before his (EXTREMELY VALID AND JUSTIFIED) villain arc.

Throughout the show it is extremely obvious Sonic only saw Nine as Tails “but angsty”. He didn’t take time to realize that Nine was NOT Tails and never will be. Whilst his main concern was to bring back his friends, I feel like no one talks about how demeaning this was 😭

The poor kid has absolutely no idea what a friendship is like, so having Sonic rely on him for even a little bit was bound to become a heavily over attached and almost obsessive-one sided dynamic.

So no, it’s not meant to be “toxic brothers!!!” core, it is sooo downgrading to not only Nine’s trauma imho, but also the whole plot of S3 in Sonic Prime. They CANNOT be brothers 😭

This is often dismissed just for the fact of “lol sonic and tails brother ship in all universes”

Do not get my wrong, I adore the Unbreakable Bond stuff, I think they’re the brothers ever!! HOWEVER, this should not apply with Sonic and Nine for obvious reasons.

I can yap more about this but the main purpose of this post is about Silver and Nine, so I’ll keep this section short!!

II. Silver should’ve been in Sonic Prime and I will die on this hill 

LIKE??? ITS LITERALLY ABOUT THE MULTIVERSE WHY WOULDN’T HE (and Blaze) BE IN THIS SHOW???

Silver in general needs to be in more official media but that’s a rant for another post 😭

His addition to this show would’ve been sooo important, it actually would’ve changed a lot of the plot and even the ending of S3 (which was absolute shit imo 😭)

I don’t have a lot to say about this part of the post, apart from the fact his inclusion would have made the show more interesting, and his background is very similar to Nine!! (Which I’ll explain in the next section)

III. Why Silver and Nine would make a better bond than with Sonic.

they have similar backgrounds and interests! both come from a dystopian city with the want for change; one wants to leave and make a new world, while the other wants to help fix his.

They both balance each other nicely! And YES I KNOW THE SAME IS FOR SONIC. THE DIFFERENCE IS THAT THERES NO TRAUMA INVOLVED BETWEEN THE TWO 😭 and it’s not a complete copy of sonic and tails but with an angsty version of the fox

silver wouldn’t see nine as “tails but angsty” or just another version of tails, I think he’d see nine as his own person!! they could keep each other company and be the sillies ever

Something I like about this is the fact it’s not EXACTLY like sonic and tails, and they can still have that brother bond!! They have tons of potential, which is why I ignore canon and follow my delusions in fanon 😁

TLDR: sonic and nine booooo silver and nine yippee!!! /hj

okay in a serious note, sonic and nine just wouldn’t have a healthy friendship that wouldn’t have one-sided obsession and lots of toxicity, while silver, a character that albeit random, still has enough similarities to fit into that role!!

Please read the thread behind the mastermind of this headcanon!! They explain the details I’ve put in this post, but I’d like for you guys to read it too. It includes a separate thread by another person based on Blaze and Silver’s odd dynamic and why it’s often brushed off!!

sorry for any spelling errors I did NOT proofread this

art by BREADBURNE86414 on twt!!

[weapon-xox]

Scogan drabble if you are ok with it ^-^

hope this is alright! thanks for the request 💕

"I missed you."

The putter of a motorcycles engine was cut off, the garage growing eerily silent, as Logan turned to look at Scott who had heard the engine from a mile away and was trying to act like he didn't run come down here just because that meant that Logan was finally home.

The Wolverine opened his mouth to speak, to maybe say something teasing along the lines of 'don't think I can say the same' despite being the furthest thing from the truth, but Scott pressed a hand to the bike and eyed it lovingly. Logan rolled his eyes.

"Oh," Cyclops purred, gaze flicking up teasingly through the visor, Logan could just see the outline... He wished he could really see those eyes. "didn't see you there, claws. How was your trip?"

"Nothin' new," he sighed dejectedly. "Didn't find what I was lookin' for, but that ain't new either." Scotts teasing demeaner faltered, and he stood up straight, offering a sympathetic smile while taking a scruffy cheek in his palm.

He scratched at the side of his partners head, behind his ear, in just that way he knew Logan loved, and as expected Scott could see the stress begin to dissolve, could see the mutant lean more into his touch with eyes that prettily fluttered closed and lips that parted in a soft gasp.

Logan started leaning to the side in the same way a cat might when you find that sweet spot, and Scott knew how to find it every time.

Wanting to be closer, missing his boyfriends overly heated body for the week he'd been gone, he carefully stepped over the seat and sat down behind Logan on the bike, the poor vehicle creaking under their combined weight, arms wrapping around his torso with his chest to his back and a chin on his shoulder, fingers smoothing over the dips and ridges of his stomach after slipping beneath his shirt while Logan leaned back into him. Scott could hear the creaking of metal joints in the silence of the garage, and he couldn't tell if they were Logans or his bikes.

"I missed you, too, you know," Scott started softly, head turned and lips pressed to Logans neck, mouthing tenderly against it's side while pulling the leather jacket from his shoulders. His kisses followed the fabric, lips trailing behind as it fell from Logans shoulders, bare with only the strap of his tank top. Logan felt hotter, nearly scorching his lips, if that were possible.

"Uh huh," he grumbled in an attempt to sound aloof, but the lazy smile and lidded eyes that struggled to stay open and locked on Scotts face gave him away, though something conflicted twitched against his features. Fingers brushed through the lovely patch of hair just above those tight jeans, pausing, then grabbed a handful and tugged. Logan mewled out a whine, and Scotts face shifted into something serious.

"I mean it. I know you don't really think I do, but I do." Logan looked away. Scott brought him back, unoccupied fingers grabbing his jaw. Logan looked unconvinced.

"Scottie," Logan laughed bitterly, but didn't try to look away again. The bike moaned when he shifted, and his neck was starting to get uncomfortable from the awkward angle. "Y'ain't gotta lie. I know how these things go, and I've always been replaceable."

Now Scott looked angry. Or hurt, maybe, Logan couldn't tell with the visor covering the most expressive part of Scotts face.

"I don't know anyone else made out of metal," Scott pointed out, but Logan didn't like that.

"So you like having a weapon around. Can't say I'm surprised, teachers pet." Scott groaned in frustration, but he never tightened his grip on Logans face, or his hair on his belly, just held him enough that he couldn't run away.

Not this time.

"I don't know anyone who can make me so angry," Logan opened his mouth to complain, stopping when Scott simply shook his head. "I'm not done." Logan obeyed.

"But I've also never known anyone who makes me feel... This way, whatever it is. Angry, sad, but happy. Loved, and protected. Jean, sure. Of course Jean. But you? You make me feel something more, and confusing, if I'm honest. When we fight, it motivates me to do better. When you're mad at me, and we're arguing- all I want to do is kiss you, Logan. Kiss all that anger and pain away, hold you in my arms, and tell you that no one can hurt you now because I won't let them."

Logan wasn't exactly sure if he should be hurt or pleased, and when Scott saw that confused puppy dog tilt of his head, he smiled softly. Still tight-lipped, but a smile no less.

"It's written into who we are that we hate each other, I can feel that sometimes. That it's supposed to be how we feel- that we should hate each other, complete opposites of one another but really, we're the same. Or similar," he added with a nod, and Logan was starting to understand. Scott continued,

"What I'm trying to say is we don't hate each other. Or- I don't. I don't hate you one bit, because even when I'm angry with you, I love you, and that feeling doesn't go away. I'm never really angry-"

"Neither am I," Logan interupted, big, furry hands finding purchase on Scotts porclean cheeks with urgency. "Not at you. Never at you. I..."

Then they were kissing. Logan wasn't good at words, but he could express with his body, fully turned around on the motorcycles seat now to press up against Scott and kiss him, fingers tangled in soft, red strands, Scotts index fingers hooked through Logans belt loops to keep him close. When they parted it was to breathe, if only for Scotts sake, and Logan looked up at him and accidently let a small whine slip. Cyclops muttered "See? I can't replace this. I'll never find someone like you again, I can't replicate this feeling no matter how hard I try. So just trust me, okay?"

Trust. That was a hard word for Logan, but he nodded anyway, because Scott didn't smell any type of way that could make him disagree. Didn't make him feel like he couldn't trust him, not like so many others had failed to do before.

Scott wiped a stray tear that fell from Logans eye away with a brush of his lips against his cheek, then brought those same lips to Logans ear, his voice a soft whisper that made Logans stomach flutter and his head swim, "let's help you relax, old man."

Logan was brought to their room. He didn't say it outloud, couldn't find the right words or the voice to say it outloud in case everything fell apart, with Logans luck of keeping people around, but he could never replace Scott either.