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#he’s so crazy can’t take him anywhere
cruesuffix · 21 days
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the things you find when you’re chronically online
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joop1ter · 4 months
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sideways lowercase N pete townshend hitting a speaker with his feet can’t hurt you, he’s not real
sideways lowercase N pete townshend hitting a speaker with his feet:
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threephantomrey · 6 months
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Asamad drawing from last night. he’s got his tongue out he’s such a goofy guy😝
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felixrulezz · 10 days
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was texting my friend and said “this might be tmi” and he immediately asked if i got my ass ate
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tariah23 · 4 months
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Outside of all of… that happening to Gojo, and finishing Snowfall the other day, eek……..
#I can live with what gege did to Gojo even though it hurts so much bro#but I can’t deal with what happened to Franklin bro that’s one of the worst character endings ever omg my chest….#i meant it in a ‘that’s so fucked up’ way not ‘this is badly written’ because it really does fit his character….. even though witnessing#such a strong and ambitious character turn into……. THAT in the end… bro…………. not Franklin 😭…#his pride left him in ruin… the fact that he actually still had ppl who were willing to stand by his side in the end and help him but he#couldn’t accept it because in his own words ‘I built this shit! and if I wanted to tear it down with my own hands than I will-‘ like he was#so used to being in charge.. the boss… never taking orders from the people who worked for him… and whenever any other character would make#suggestions or decide that they wanted to branch off he’d completely lose his shit because in his mind they’re all stronger together and he#felt like he was losing control of the circumstances that arose and that ‘if only they would’ve listened to ME then everything would’ve#been just fine-‘ and the crazy thing is… Franklin was usually right 😭 like 90% of the time but it’s just he couldn’t communicate with his#friends and peers without blowing up like a demon just because they made their own decisions lmfao#especially without him/his consent lmfaooo he was a control freak for sure#so many awful things wouldn’t have even happened if everyone stuck together and listened but at the same time other characters grew tired#of being underneath him and it was within their right to go do their own thing like I get it#so many things were going to wrong in the end 😭… also teddy is such a bitter bitch bro#the fact that Franklin willingly decided to become…. I can’t even say it…#in the end over receiving what he’d consider a handout is insane…….. living like that? in filth because he’s too prideful to ever work#under anyone ever again even if it’s with a trusted friend… the money really blinded him but I get it#if I had 73 mil stolen from me out of nowhere by a bitter white man just because I told him I didn’t want to do business with him anymore#in the 80’s then I’d lose it too but ong Franklin was too ambitious to end up like this…#he kind of character you’d just watch and instantly think to yourself ‘this guy could go anywhere he wants. he’s no caged bird…’#so it makes his ending even more devastating……..#rambling#if you ever watch snowfall don’t watch the last episode 🥺 please promise me you won’t?
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glassgasoline · 8 months
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minho is soooo un-minho in the photo i can’t explain it
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begaycommittreason · 6 months
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out of context things heard in wayne manor:
bruce: i understand, but pretending you cooked jerry the turkey is not a proportionate response to damian calling you a peasant again
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jason: look there’s a right way and a wrong way to make food. there’s also the bruce way, which is the wrong way except faster and worse
duke: *frantically scribbling notes*
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tim: do you think our relationship was kinda like incest now?
steph, horrified: never open your mouth in my presence again timothy
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dick: so then he’s like—guys. guys are you seriously signing about me in front of my face. i learned it too—hey i do NOT have a butt chin take that back—
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damian: i don’t understand, why does he wear such a ridiculous hat? is it like that margaret poppins woman grayson showed me?
tim, who watched the live action cat in the hat too much as a kid and is about to violently infodump: well you see-
dick: oh god it’s too late
jason: yeah the brats on his own for this one i’m not fucking dealing with that again
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bruce: are you lying?
tim: always. anyway, like i was saying—
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steph: hey what’s up with you and all the redheads
dick: …i’m not discussing this with you
steph, starting to chase him: gingervitus is a serious affliction! you cant run from this
dick, sprinting away: yes the fuck i can
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duke: so is anyone gonna talk about the elephant in the room…
dick:
dick: look i was feeling sentimental and zitka jr. really isn’t any trouble
damian: she is magnificent
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tim: so i dropped out and
duke: wait we can drop out of high school??!!?
bruce: NO.
duke: please bruce ap biology is beating my ass right now
jason: nah tim just got to drop cause bruce was dead and he’s a loser. the real problem is what you’re reading in ap lit right now, because i have thoughts on that curriculum—
duke: i’m not even gonna use half that material in the real world
tim: actually most of our villains have PhDs so their plans are based on pretty real science
duke: not helping timothy
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cass, signing: why are brothers on the ceiling?
jason: tims in timeout from working on his caseload
cass, still confused: yes but why taped to the ceiling
duke: listen if you know a better way of restraining his psycho ass then i’m all ears
cass: and damian?
jason: oh he saw this as free range target practice so he had to go up there too
cass: they are plotting revenge up there
duke: think of it as brotherly bonding
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damian: it’s not my fault he got in the way
bruce: you threw an eclair at lex luthor
damian: i was aiming for drake
tim: bruce we can’t take him anywhere
dick, holding back laughter: timmy you paid four separate people to come to the gala solely to ask lex if they could use his head to see if they had something in their teeth
tim: you have no proof that was me
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duke: look steph, it’s not that we don’t want to help with this
jason: i don’t want to help
duke: it’s more that i don’t think we can physically fit that many people in a shopping cart, and your whole plan kind of hinges on that
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alfred: i’m not mad, just disappointed in you.
every batkid, near tears: sorry alfred
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jason: HE HAD DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY AS THE FUCKING WHAT—
bruce: listen—
tim, mouth full and brain empty: the ambassador to iran. crazy right?
dick: tim please
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not-neverland06 · 1 month
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we're dating? ♡
logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader
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One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader
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You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 
The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 
Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 
You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 
“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 
Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 
You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”
He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 
“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”
Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 
“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 
“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 
You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 
“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 
You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 
“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 
Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 
You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 
But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 
You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 
You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 
You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 
You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 
You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”
I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 
You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 
He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 
“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”
Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 
You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 
But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 
“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”
You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”
Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”
“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”
His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 
You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”
Only an idiot would say no. 
You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 
“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 
“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 
You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.
“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 
“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 
He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”
You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 
He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 
The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 
By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 
You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 
Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 
Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”
You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”
Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 
Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”
“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 
You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.
Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 
You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 
He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 
“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 
The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 
Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 
Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 
You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”
He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 
He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 
His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.
He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”
“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 
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You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 
You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 
Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 
It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 
There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 
You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 
When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 
“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 
There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 
You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 
“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”
You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”
His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”
He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 
Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 
You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”
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You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 
There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 
You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 
It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 
“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 
You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”
He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 
You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 
He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?
You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”
“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”
You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 
“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 
You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.
He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 
You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 
He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 
You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 
He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 
It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 
You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 
You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 
You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 
Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 
You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”
He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”
Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”
Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”
You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”
He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”
You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 
“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”
He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”
There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
dividers by @/thecutestgrotto
3K notes · View notes
after-witch · 9 months
Text
Bus Stop [Yandere Geto x Reader]
Title: Bus Stop [Yandere Geto x Reader]
Synopsis: You’ve escaped from Geto–but for how long?
Word count: 3200ish
Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, noncon sex scene, female reader, degradation
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Despite everything that has happened to you within the last year, your hands have never shook so much; your breath has never been this ragged, this desperate; your chest has never heaved and pleaded with the most fervent of thoughts: please, please, for the love of everything I used to believe in, answer your door!
It feels like your knuckles will begin to bleed against the wood grain but then, the door opens so swiftly that your hand falls forward and you nearly stumble over the threshold.
A man is standing in the doorway. A man with a button down sweater and a concerned, fretful expression--well, no wonder, with the way you’d been rapping on his door.
The man is your psychologist. Mr. Mayeda. You’ve been going to him for several years–or at least, you were going to him, before everything happened. Before you were taken and kept and–
His eyes widen. He takes in your state. Oh, how you must look. Forehead beaded with sweat, eyes round and pleading.
And then there is the matter of the collar around your neck.
“Come in,” he says, sounding dazed and concerned all in one breath. “Tell me what’s happened.”
“Will you miss me, pet?”
You nod, and keep your eyes downcast. He likes your eyes downcast when you’re in the presence of anyone else–like now. Unless he tells you to look at him. But even when you’re alone with Geto, you’re prone to keeping your eyes glued to the floor, your lap, the ceiling. Anywhere but his face.
“Do speak up,” he says, trailing a finger possessively along your cheek.
“Yes, master Geto,” you murmur. “Please return quickly.”
He pats your head. Like a dog, like a pet. Because that’s what you’ve become, isn’t it? His pet. You even sit at his knees when he’s addressing his legions of followers, most of whom you can’t stand; and the ones you can stand only possess that particular description because you haven’t really met them yet. 
This one, the woman Geto is leaving to monitor you while he’s off on some awful errand, is not someone new. She’s someone who dislikes you out of jealousy or supremacy or perhaps a bubbling mixture of both.
But there’s an advantage in that. She doesn’t try to talk with you, like some of the milder ones do. As soon as Geto is gone, she throws a disdainful glare your way and gets out her phone. She doesn’t even bother staying in the room with you; she goes into the next room and slides the door shut. She’ll talk to her boyfriend until she hears the telltale sound of Geto’s footsteps leading up to the room, then pretend like she’s been happily watching over you the whole time.
Which means she won’t notice when you pry open a loose floorboard and retrieve a backpack you’ve stuffed with papers, with cash, with a few necessities. 
Which means you’ll have an easier time escaping. 
Which means you’ll finally be free.
It almost seems too easy, when you make it out of the compound. You expect Geto to pounce on you at any moment. But you make it out,  you do, and you make it to a bus station and slide some of the money you stole from Geto’s room over to the ticket counter.
You could call the police. But Geto would look for you there first. He would know you’d run, little rabbit that you are, to the only authority you could think of; but they couldn’t protect you. Not from him. 
So your mind drums up the only address you can really remember–that of your psychologist’s office–and you ask the ticket taker for the next bus to the city.
Mr. Mayeda does not say anything at first. 
Even though what you’ve told him sounds wild. And crazy. And wholly made up. That is to say, you’ve told him everything. About how Geto Suguru can control monsters, only they’re not simply monsters, but curses. About how he sees them and eats them and hoards them, like he’s tucking them away for some awful winter. About how he kidnapped you and kept you, how he treated you like a pet, how he wouldn’t let you go. 
About how you escaped and didn’t know where else to turn.
“I know,” you say, leaning forward, arms crossed over yourself. “I know it sounds crazy. But you have to believe me.”
Mr. Mayeda frowns. 
You pull your backpack into your lap and rummage through it, until 
“I didn’t believe any of it myself at first.” Memories come flooding in. Those early days,, spent crying, gritting your teeth so hard that your jaw ached for a week, unbelieving everything Geto told you in the calmest, most horrible tones. “But it’s true. And–and I don’t know where to go or what to do. He’ll try to find me, and, and…” Your breath begins to quicken, your heart pounds. How could you think you’d be free? Oh, he’ll find you, and kill poor Mr. Mayeda, and then where will you be? What will he do? 
You’re only barely aware of your hyperventilation when Mr. Mayeda places a firm hand on your shoulder. He says your name. He says it again. And again. And when you look at him, eyes bleary with tears, he speaks again. 
“You have to calm down. I can’t help you until you calm down.”
His voice is an anchor in the storm. Help you, he said. Help.
 Your hand shakily goes up to clasp his; it’s a foreign touch, the first person that you’ve touched since Geto took you. No one else was allowed to, except Manami, but that was only in case of emergencies. 
“You don’t think I’m crazy?” Your voice is a hoarse croak. 
Mr. Mayeda gives your fingers a squeeze, and then lets you go. He stands up and looks down at you with a sympathetic smile.
“I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re very upset, and need someone to listen to you.” He sighs and looks you over. “I’d like to grab your file from my office. Would you like anything? A glass of water? Food?” 
“Oh–oh yes, water, please. If it’s not any trouble.” Your stomach growls, but you don’t think you could keep anything down right now, anyway. 
And what does food matter, when he’s going to help you? When he believes you? You’d imagined this conversation so many times. In some of them, he escorts you out of the building and slams the door in your face. In others, he has you picked up by ambulance and committed to a hospital for delusions. In others, he yells at you for wasting his time.
But instead he doesn’t think you’re crazy and he’s going to help and it’s the best possible outcome. One that you, in your hopeless state, didn’t even foresee.
By the time he returns with a glass of water, your breathing has returned. You smile wearily and wipe your clammy hands before you take the glass. The water is cool and refreshing down your sore throat. 
Mr. Mayeda gives you a few moments before he begins to speak. He has your file now, and opens it up on his lap.
“I need to ask you a few things. Just to get an idea of how we should proceed, all right? Please let me know if you feel uncomfortable.”
You set the empty water glass down and nod. What’s a few questions, compared to the hell you’ve been living?
“Have you been to your home, since you’ve left this mysterious compound?”
“No.”
He scratches the answer on the pad.
“Did you call anyone else, or contact anyone else except for me?”
“No.”
Scratch-scratch.
“So no one else knows you’re here?”
“No.” You bite your lip, and ask questions of your own. “What are we going to do? Where can we go? Do you know anyone that can help?” 
He raises his hand.
“One thing at a time. First, I’d like to get everything straight on your end.” 
You nod, and bring your knees up on the chair, feeling like a child in a doctor’s office for the first time in ages.
“Yes, of course, I’m sorry, I’m just…” You don’t finish.
Mr. Mayeda simply smiles, pity in his expression. You don’t need to explain to him what you are “just,” because he’s confident and calm and he knows exactly what to do.  “That’s all right. I understand this is stressful. I’m going to go make a call, and then we’ll talk about what we can do next. Okay?”
You nod. You don’t want him to leave you–he’s going to help you–and worries begin to creep in about Geto somehow finding you here. Maybe you had a tracker on you that you didn’t know about. Maybe there was a curse attached to your shoulder and he’d simply sniff it out. 
Maybe you were too anxious to think straight.
By the time he returns, your knee is bouncing. He regards it with a frown, and you force yourself to stop.  You don’t want him to be mad at you–you want him to help you. He said he’d help you. You just don’t know what he can do to save you from Geto. What anyone could do. 
But he sits down, and gets out your file again. Then he begins to go through every detail of your story, confirming, questioning, writing down notes. It’s hard–you start to cry, thinking about everything–but it’s necessary to create a plan of action. Right? 
In the midst of all this, the doorbell buzzes.
He sighs, and his frown deepens. He must have forgotten an appointment–you can’t blame him, with your sudden arrival.  “Let me get that. I’ll just have them reschedule the appointment.” When he gets up from his chair, he looks older in the moment; more tired and slow. Well, the stress of you dropping your predicament in his lap can’t exactly be easy to take. 
You wipe your teary eyes, and grab a tissue to blow your nose. You hope he doesn’t have to reschedule too many clients because of you. You don’t want to be too much trouble.  You just want to be safe and free and–
Geto and Manami walk through the open doorway of the office, and your stomach drops to your shoes. 
Behind them, Mr. Mayeda looks remorseful. 
“I had to,” he says, voice quavering. “My daughter–she… she’s used his services, you see.” 
Geto looks back at Mr. Mayeda, who immediately shuts up and stares at the floor. 
Ah. So he threw you back to the wolves to protect someone he loved. You can’t begrudge him for it. Not really.
But it doesn’t change the loss of your short-lived freedom. 
Manami drives. You don’t have the strength to look anywhere but your own lap, at your hands curled up so tight that they hurt, resting on your thighs. 
Geto hasn’t said a thing since he collected you. 
“Suguru,” you say, voice shaking through the words. “I… ” You’re about to lie. He knows this. You know this. But he’s never minded you lying, before, as long as you said what he wanted. “I won’t do it again, I promise.” Still, he says nothing. 
“Suguru–” you try again. He finally looks at you, a slow, languid turn of his head. His lips curl just a little. Not in a way that makes you feel good. 
 His voice is soft and sweet as honey. His words are anything but.
“You think you have the right to address me right now?” 
He’s angry. Not just annoyed, not just mad, not just disappointed. Angry. It’s a heavy, dreadful feeling that glues you to the seat just as well as any bonds. 
Gravity seems to pull your chin down, until you’re once again staring at your lap.
This time, you clench your fingernails so hard that your palm bleeds. 
You don’t remember the walk back into the compound. You didn’t dare look up from the ground underneath your feet–walking step by step behind Geto, even though you wanted nothing more than to run in the opposite direction–to see the expressions of those devout followers. No doubt some were glaring as much as they dared.
It’s not until you’re back in Geto’s quarters and Manami has been dismissed that you hazard a glance at something other than your shoes, now dirty from your short journey outside these walls. 
You look up at Geto, who is standing, silent, head tilted just-so as he stares at you. When he finally opens his mouth, he issues a command.
“Go to the bedroom.”
They are words to be obeyed, and you do. 
He’s not yet in the room when he continues the orders.
“Disrobe. Lay on the bed. Spread your legs. Do not speak.”
Dread pools in your stomach, thick and slimy. It makes you want to run into the bathroom and hurl the contents of your last meal into the toilet. But you dare not deviate from what he’s said, not when the world feels so heavy; not when you know he’s angry with you.
So you slip off your clothing and lay on the bed and spread your legs. The cool air of the bedroom does nothing but increase your trembling as thoughts come one by one.
What does Geto intend to do? Something related to sex, surely. Maybe he’ll fuck you so hard that you can’t sit properly for days. Maybe he’ll make you lay here, naked, simply for his own amusement. Maybe he’ll hurt you, finally, and that underlying, coil-tight fear you’ve had since the moment you were kidnapped can finally release.
After far too long for your mental sanity, Geto finally does come into the room, stripped down to only an undershirt and thin cotton pants. Casual clothing he only wears around you, and no one else. Maybe he expects that to be flattering, but for whom, you can’t quite tell.
He crawls on the bed, his weight dipping the mattress. 
He places his hands on either thigh, and pushes your legs further apart. 
You wait for some pain–the pain of him entering you without preparation, perhaps, or something more insidious. The crack of his hand. The crack of a leather belt. 
But you wait in vain, because instead of pain–instead of something harsh and cruel–you instead feel the soft touch of his fingers against your folds. His thumb rests softly against your clit, and begins to rub, sending an unwelcome jolt through you. 
“Suguru?” You ask, and boldly prop yourself up on your elbows. 
“I told you not to speak,” he murmurs, and you press your lips together. Now, you think, surely he will hit you.
But no. Instead he returns to his former ministrations, gently rubbing against your clit, other fingers gently squeezing the flesh of your pussy. It almost tickles, pleasantly. After a while, the dull pleasure begins to heighten, and you can feel a mild orgasm beginning to reach its peak. 
He stops. The pleasure hovers for a moment, and then begins to fade. 
He begins again. 
You want to ask him what he’s doing; you want to ask him why he stopped. But his order to remain quiet thrums through your head and you merely keep your head back on the bed, staring at the plain ceiling above you. 
The pleasure is different now. Sharper. Wetter. Instead of a dull, mild orgasm, it begins to feel like the ones you’ve had with him before; the ones where he spends a while building you up, getting you wet, wanting to hear you moan. 
Your breath begins to catch in your throat, and you can’t help but squirm your hips. It feels good,  you don’t want it, but he knows your body well enough to make it feel good.
And like before, you can feel yourself starting to reach your peak, getting to the point when pleasure becomes sparks. And–like before. 
He stops. 
And begins again. 
And stops. 
And begins again.
Until you are wet, and sweating, and squirming. Until your breath is not mildly catching in your throat but coming out in desperate pants. Until your hands are clenching the sheets. 
Until you are crying out, not because of pain and a sharp slap against your skin, but the unbearable heat that has built between your legs. A heat which Geto has carefully stoked with his fingers and his mouth, and the unrelenting pattern of bringing you to the top, only to let you fall before bringing you there once again.
You know you’re not supposed to speak. But you can’t help it, you just can’t help it. Not with the way his thumb is idly circling your clit. Not with the sweat clinging to your back. Not with the way your head begins to turn side to side of its own accord, unable to deal with the teasing. 
“Suguru–” Your voice is a needy whine. “Please, please–”
“Apologize,” he says, simply. Calmly. All the while continuing to slowly rub your clit with his thumb.
“I’m sorry,” you croak. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”
His thumb pauses, and you can feel your clit twitching against it.
“But do you mean it?” 
“Yes!” You don’t hesitate. Tears leak from your eyes. Wetness leaks from in between your legs.
“Then beg.” He keeps his thumb hovered above your clit. “Beg like you’re my pet. Because that’s what you are, isn’t it?”
Your thighs tremble. Your lips quiver.
“Please, Suguru.” Your cheeks heat in shame, but what shame can you truly hold onto, when your pussy is this wet, when you’re gyrating against him so pathetically? You say everything you think he wants to hear. “I’m your pet, I won’t run again, I’ll do what you say–”
You feel half-delirious, raising your hips towards the air to try to get some friction against his finger. All you succeed in doing is humping yourself against him, teasing your swollen clit with the promise of an orgasm that can only come from his fingers.
After a while, your words trail off into a pathetic whimper.
It’s then that Geto crawls up further on the bed and plants a kiss on your forehead. 
You sigh in relief. 
“No,” he says. “Bad pets don’t get rewarded, do they?”
You have only a moment to think before he yanks your sweaty wrists up and ties them to the headboard with cuffs he must have put there before he even collected you from Mr. Mayeda’s office. You pull against them once before he gives you a harsh look that makes you freeze. Once he’s satisfied with your stillness, he begins to take off his own clothes. 
“I would make you sleep on the floor,” he murmurs, shrugging off his shirt. “But that would be a punishment to me, to deny myself your body, no?” 
You can only shake your head in response as you shift your legs, trying to catch the fleeting orgasm that has begun to fade even further from your grasp. Geto raises an eyebrow and places his palm firmly on your hip to keep you in place. 
Once you stop squirming–it’s useless, you realize–he sighs and cuddles against you. It might be sweet, if he wasn’t who he was; if you weren’t in the position that you’re in. If there wasn’t an aching, warm soreness between your legs that has gone unfulfilled. 
His voice is not so sweet when he whispers against your ear.
“If you ever try something so foolish again, I won’t be kind about it.”
3K notes · View notes
yukinss · 1 month
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save the horse | ln4
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pairing: lando norris x fem!equestrian! reader summary: soft launching his girlfriend takes an unexpected turn when his sister outs him in his comments. note: me when i get my first request 😁 in all seriousness i hope you like it even if it took forever for me to post it! on the topic of flo and lando, i love that they both have matching helmets and that flo has ‘ln4’ on the back of her helmet! note 2: i know nothing about horses or the sport in general, so i apologize if things aren’t accurate! i did my best to do research, but narrowed it down to like simple stuff and only really mentioning show jumping/horses a couple of times.
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ynusername posted on their story!
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landonorris
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liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and others.
landonorris what’s that one laufey song?
view all comments
oscarpiastri what’s up with the last picture??
⤷ landonorris 🫨
user OSCAR ‼️
user i bet he got that off of pinterest
maxfewtrell is that your twin in the second slide?
user why is oscar so wide 😟
user everyone’s talking about the oscar pic, but no one is talking about the first one like SIR ⁉️
flo_norris_showjumping soft launching yn while posting her horse is crazy
user bro chill she’s not going anywhere
⤷ user no fr why is he gripping her so hard??
danielriccardo stealing my brand i see
carlossainz55 sneaky sneaky
user LAUFEY MENTION
user lando norris is a horse girl ⁉️ (REAL NOT CLICKBAIT)
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ynusername
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liked by landonorris, flo_norris_showjumping, and others.
ynusername moose moose and friends 🧡
view all comments
user not her acting like that isn’t lando
user BACK PICS ⁉️ YN LN ‼️
oscarpiastri yuck
flo_norris_showjumping i think he’s more than a friend
⤷ ynusername he’s a very good friend 😁
⤷ flo_norris_showjumping 😐
user MOOSE MOOSE
user i love moose moose content (choosing to ignore that my wife is cheating on me)
user the way she holds lando’s hand :(
user lando in the likes, it’s okay you can comment
carlossainz55 there are children on this app
⤷ oscarpiastri exactly
⤷ carlossainz55 get out of my mentions
⤷ oscarpiastri or what
⤷ carlossaniz55 watch your back turn 5
⤷ ynusername the girls are fighting
alex_albon does moose moose do pony rides?
⤷ landonorris depends, how much you paying?
⤷ alex_albon i didn’t ask you
⤷ ynusername you have to stop doing this, love. you
can’t keep making people pay to ride moosey
user what is this comment section
user is no one going to talk about yn calling lando ‘love’ … like???
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landonorris
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liked by ynusername, danielriccardo, and others.
landonorris me when my gf is a winner 🐎
view all comments
ynusername i hope moosey eats you
⤷ landonorris WOW OKAY
⤷ ynusername 😁
ynusername I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU
user my parents
ynusername time to start my new job as a f1 wag 🤭
user stop they’re so cute
flo_norris_showjumping congratulations yn and moosey!!
liked by ynusername
alex_albon still wanna know if moose moose does pony rides 😪
user YN IN THE PADDOCK SOON
user YN AND MOOSE MOOSE FOR THE WIN ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
oscarpiastri please don’t be all nasty in the garage, i can’t be seeing that pre race
⤷ ynusername aye aye sir osc! 🫡
⤷ oscarpiastri sir osc?
⤷ landonorris sir osc?
⤷ carlossainz55 sir osc?
⤷ danielriccardo sir osc?
⤷ georgerussell63 sir osc?
⤷ maxverstappen1 sir osc?
⤷ charles_leclerc sir osc?
⤷ alex_albon sir osc?
⤷ ynusername okay what the hell
992 notes · View notes
heeliopheelia · 7 months
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐎
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genre: fluff, established relationship
word count: 1.7k
warnings: hoon’s quite suggestive, jake’s hinting suggestive content but it’s really up to your own interpretation lmaoo, kissing
a/n: yayyy, this one has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER!! so glad to finally put it out...
masterlist
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LEE HEESEUNG
You can’t help but chuckle into his lips, teeth clashing slightly when his cold hands make contact with the skin underneath your top. Heeseung pulls away from the kiss, raising his eyebrow at your behavior before realizing that the reason for your laughter comes from the touch of hands. 
Already knowing his ill intentions of tickling you by his expression, you put your hands over his and speak before you can even think of your words first.
“Bro, don’t even-”
Your words are interrupted with a loud scoff. “What did you just call me, you little witch?”
“Hey!”
“You see, things like that really make me rethink our relationship.”
You burst out laughing away before shoving his face away gently. “You’re so mean.”
“You’re the mean one for even letting such words come to your mind while addressing me.” 
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile before grabbing his neck and trying to smush your lips together. A whine rips out of your throat when he denies you your kiss and looks at you as if you were crazy.
“Just come here, you dramatic ass! I haven’t seen you in a whole week!”
Heeseung flicks your nose instead. “Exactly! You haven’t seen me in an entire week and the first word that comes to your mind is bro. Really?”
You groan loudly, throwing your head back as you prepare yourself for the next fifteen minutes of bickering with your boyfriend. “Oh my god-”
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PARK JAY
“Why would you ever call me that, oh my god.”
His frown is enough to make you burst out with chuckles. You grab onto his arm as you catch up to him, letting the glass door of the small convenience store shut behind you. 
“I thought that was funny,” you chirp up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently.
“And in public too? You really want me to go gray before my thirties, don’t you?”
You raise your arm up and run your hand through his soft hair, pretending to actually consider his question. “I think you’d actually look rather hot with salt-pepper hair, you know? You’d look ravishing with any hairstyle, really.”
Jay sends you an unamused look as you keep giggling. “Sweet words aren't gonna get you anywhere, miss.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you finally fold as you slip your hand into his. 
Jay intertwines your fingers without skipping a beat, before tugging on your arm and pulling you even closer to him. 
“Please, don’t ever do that again. I might actually go crazy.”
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SIM JAKE
You look with slight disappointment at your boyfriend occupied with his game – too occupied to notice you’ve called him a bro instead of baby for the second time this past five minutes. Sitting boredly on his bed, you sigh again.
“What is it, angel?” Jake asks, eyes drawn to the screen and never sparing you a look. 
You never minded when he spent his evenings gaming, you know everyone has their own stress relievers, but tonight you were just so damn bored you didn’t know what else to do.
“Nothing, bro,” you snap a little sharper than intended, slightly irked by his innocent negligence. “I’m gonna order some take out. What do you want?”
Only then, couple seconds of silence later, your words seem to click and Jake pauses his game and turns to you with a slightly perplexed expression. “Wait… Could you repeat that?”
You roll your eyes. “I said, I’m gonna order som-”
“No, that word you’ve just called me,” he cuts you off with a pout. “Why would you say that?”
You shrug, dragging out your upset act although there’s barely a spark of annoyance in your system by now. 
“Dunno. Maybe I just wanted my boyfriend to pay attention to me finally after I’ve been begging for it for an hour now.”
Jake coos at you before standing up and walking over to you, abandoning his game completely and engulfing you in his embrace. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles into your neck as you fall backwards on his bedsheets, your boyfriend on top of you. He kisses up a trail up to your jawline, then moves to your lips for a moment and dragging it out longer and longer. “Lemme make it up to you, huh?”
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PARK SUNGHOON
“What’s gotten you so quiet?” Sunghoon asks as he nudges you with his hip, standing right beside you.
You finish washing your face before patting it dry with a towel, ignoring his questioning look as he pierces you through the mirror. You put the towel next to the sink before sighing.
“I don’t know, bro,” you say, biting your smile back as you notice his eyebrows raising up at the unusual nickname. “I guess I’m just tired.”
Sunghoon snorts quietly before turning to face you, leaning his hip against the marble counter. “Really?”
You look at him with fake confusion, tilting your head to the side as you blink innocently. “What do you mean?”
“If I remember correctly, I was just blowing your back out ten minutes ago and now you’re here calling me this fraternal slur?” He claps back, smiling lazily as your eyes go wide at his bold words. 
“Sunghoon! Oh my god,” you gasp, smacking his bare chest with your towel. “Have you got no shame?”
He barks out a laugh before walking up to you and grabbing you by your hips. “Maybe that’ll make you think twice before trying your stupid shit on me again.” And as these words leave his mouth, he’s leaning down and smacking his lips onto yours, already pulling you to your bedroom again.
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KIM SUNOO
“A WHAT?” 
Your arms fall to your sides, and you watch as your beloved boyfriend goes into a fucking spiral over a nickname that’s just slipped out by an accident. “Sunoo, baby, please, calm d-”
“I know you did not just call me bro. Don’t ever talk to me again.”
You follow him out of the kitchen from where he storms out, an outraged expression on his face. You stifle your laughter and put on a serious facade as he drops down on the couch with an irritated huff, muttering under his nose about how unbelievable you were being.
You take a seat next to him and place your hand on his thigh. “I swear, I only said that out of habit.”
“Yeah, what’s next in the store for me?” He asks and this time you can’t help but chuckle. “No, tell me. When should I be prepared for you to start calling me homie or gang?”
“It’s not that serious!” You laugh in his face, only making his expression more sour. But how can you help it when he looks at you as if you’ve just pissed in his cereal bowl? 
“I’ve literally never been more offended in my life.”
You wrap your arms around his neck and pepper his cheeks with kisses, hoping this will ease him out sooner. “I’m sorry, my beloved, my heart, my everything.”
“Keep talking and you might be forgiven somewhere in the future.” 
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YANG JUNGWON
“I was thinking about buying that one perfume lately,” you say suddenly, eyes planted at the tv as the commercial reminded you of your last trip to the mall.
“Are you sure?” Jungwon hums, resting his head over yours that’s leaned on his shoulder. “It was rather expensive, no? I don’t want you regretting buying it two days later.”
“I know, bro,” you groan and turn your face to bury it in his neck. You don’t notice his head tilting to look at you a little questionably. “That’s why I’m thinking about it. I don’t know if I’ll actually commit.”
There’s a brief silence before his sweet voice follows after the kiss he presses to your hair. 
“I don’t think that’s my name, baby.”
You pull away, slightly confused, blinking up at your boyfriend. “What?”
“Out of all the nicknames you’ve given me, I liked that one the least.”
It takes you a moment to click and finally comprehend his words, and when you do, you let out a small huff at his still rather soft way with words.
You wrap your arms around his middle. “Oh… Sorry, I didn’t actually mean to say that.”
“It’s okay,” he assures quickly, bringing you closer to his warm chest, a steady heartbeat beating underneath his sweatshirt. 
“Well, which one do you like the most?” You ask, implying to his previous thought. 
Jungwon ponders for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know. I like all of them, really. Won is pretty nice, or my love… I like dumpling surprisingly a lot too.”
You can’t help but laugh at his answer, mind barely recalling the one and only time you jokingly referred to him as a dumpling while you pinched on his dimpled cheek lovingly.
“Gosh, you’re so cute.”
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NISHIMURA RIKI
“Can you pass me the salt, bro?” You ask your boyfriend who’s sitting on your left. 
You’re too focused on frowning upon the bland food you’ve made to notice how Riki’s eyebrows furrowed up at his new nickname. 
After not having a response in the following minute, you turn to him with surprise as you notice the look on his face. 
“I don’t know, sis, I think your hands are fully capable, no?” He chirps at you and you gape at him with confusion before the realization dawns on you.
You snort, shaking your head at your boyfriend. “Don’t be a child, I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out.”
Riki hums. “Dunno, it sounded pretty natural to me, sis. Almost as if it was your regular nickname for me, sis.”
“Stop it!” You whine out, dropping your fork before glaring at the smirking man on your left. “I didn’t mean it. Now, give me a kiss.”
You pucker your lips and lean forward, only to be met with his hand pressed flat to your mouth. Your eyebrows shoot high as he chuckles at you. 
“Sorry but I’m not into incestuous relationships.”
“Riki, c’mon!” You groan, kicking his shin underneath the table harmlessly. 
He cups your cheeks with a laugh and squishes your face with his fingers. “‘m just teasing,” he muses before leaning in and closing the gap between you. 
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innerfare · 10 days
Text
Blowjobs 
Summary: What are they like when you go down on them?
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid
Genre: pure smut
CW: NSFW // blowjobs
——— 
Luffy: Goes a little crazy when you wrap your lips around him, moaning and groaning, his voice extra raspy, can’t stand it when you tease him. And he counts anything to do with his balls as teasing because they're so sensitive. "That's not fair!" He’ll grab your hair to control the pace, pulling your mouth up and down his throbbing cock. Doesn’t mean to be such a control freak, just can’t help himself. He’s so fucking greedy, it’s unreal. Never cums from a blowjob anywhere but in your mouth, and he really wants you to swallow. His favorite thing in the world is when his cum spills out of your mouth and you need a little help cleaning it up. He’ll swipe his thumb across your chin and chuckle when you suck the cum from his finger. This will probably lead to a second blowjob (multiples are not unusual with this man), probably with the two of you 69ing. 
Zoro: Lays back with his hands behind his head and his legs sprawled out, ready to watch you go down on him. So smug, smirks and goads you into taking more of him into your mouth until you’re choking on his length, then pokes fun at you for taking on more than you can handle. "What's wrong? Is daddy's cock too much for your princess mouth? You said you could handle it." You taking more of him into your mouth than you can handle and choking a little is definitely his favorite part. When he’s not teasing you, he’s watching you like a hawk, pushing his hips up a little to get himself deeper down your throat. Is actually really good at holding back his orgasm, which is good because he wants you to go down on him for a while but he also wants to cum inside you, so once your jaw is locked and cramping, he’ll pin you beneath him and fuck his cum into you. 
Sanji: Also ends up fucking you after a blowjob, but not because he can last for a very long time. Rather, it’s because he can get hard again so fast, almost as soon as his orgasm is finished. So, after you’ve wrapped your lips and hands around his length and drained his first load out of him, he’s pushing you onto your back and rutting his hips against yours. His favorite part is when you suck on his balls, but you have to be careful doing this because he’ll cum almost instantly from it; he’s cum in your hair countless times, most of them because you were sucking on his balls. If you’re going to do this, it’s better to do it toward the beginning. Oh, and when you’re finished, he’s eager to kiss you on the mouth, deep but short kisses. He’ll thank you so many times, too. "You did such a good job, babygirl. I love you so much."
Ace: He enjoys when you politely ask him if you can suck his cock. He’s surprisingly restrained as you lick up and down his length, looking up at him with your doe eyes. He’ll bite his bottom lip and rub a hand up and down his muscular chest and abdomen, the other resting on your head as it bobs up and down. He might buck his hips a little bit, but he won’t fuck your face; doesn’t think it’s hot when you choke, actually hates it. He’ll stroke your hair and groan a bit, his voice extra deep, and swear when he cums. “That’s my girl. You're mine, all fucking mine. Nobody else gets to feel your lips around their cock.” And his favorite part, perhaps one of his favorite things in the entire world, is cumming on your face. He doesn’t mean anything disrespectful by it, doesn’t even view it as dominating you in any way. It’s actually a soft gesture when he does. He just thinks you look so pretty with his cum on your face, and it makes him feel so loved that you enjoy his cum so much. 
Sabo: He can be a sadistic prick and mischievous little demon when the two of you are behind closed doors, but all that melts away when you have his pretty cock in your mouth. As soon as your head is between his legs, he turns into a whining mess (baby boy Sabo, uwu), subduing him such that you have a hard time believing this was the same man who just had you bent over his knee. His favorite part are those sweet kisses you place on his balls before you work your way up the length and lick the tip like a lollipop. Likes to watch you but usually doesn’t because it makes him cum so quickly and he wants to enjoy the blowjob a little longer. "Please don't make me cum yet. Feels so fucking good." He doesn’t really have a favorite place to cum. Or rather, he goes through phases. He likes switching it up a lot and enjoys when you ask him where he wants to cum (you deferring to him at the end makes him feel a little better about turning into putty in your hands). 
Law: Please let him cum in your mouth. Please, please, please. He might even say please, which is a pretty big deal for a man like Trafalgar Law. "You know I like it, why do you keep making me say it?" So annoyed at you, but all that goes away when he cums and you open your mouth to show him his cum before swallowing. Was actually hesitant to let you suck him off at first because he felt like he was giving up control. Allowing you to pleasure him was difficult, struck by the fear of letting himself get lost in your touch and doing something embarrassing like whining, but he didn’t hold out for very long, and his resolve to only allow you to do it only on occasion collapsed entirely after the first time you swallowed his cum. He tries to stay quiet while you suck his cock, but he’ll grunt if you hum or moan with him in your mouth; he’s definitely whimpered before, though he’ll never admit it. He usually screws his eyes shut and tries to keep himself from coming undone entirely. His favorite part is when you lick your lips afterward, like it was a treat for you, too. 
Kid: Basically can’t function without a blowjob. That being said, he understands that a man of his size can be difficult to suck off, so he’s very patient. The bully you often have sex with rarely, if ever, makes an appearance when you’re going down on him. He’ll stroke your hair and offer you sweet words of encouragement, biting back a devilish grin when you choke on his length. “I know it’s big, but you can handle it. Nice and slow, just like that. Make sure to breathe.” He’ll even help you out by stroking his cock or playing with his balls. His eyes are glued to you the entire time for fear he’ll miss his favorite part: when you tear up a little bit. He’s happy to cum anywhere, but your chest is by far his favorite place. You learn quickly to take your shirt off when you go down on him because he won’t aim away, even if you’re wearing a new top or have somewhere to be afterward. 
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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xxblairexxss · 1 year
Text
Cherry tomato?
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Fluff
In which you did a Tiktok prank on your boyfriend and he nearly fainted.
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You were sprawling on the couch, giggling and chuckling at your phone. You had been watching Tiktok and there was this trend going on where you told your dad or significant other about a $100 for a premium air so you wanted to try it on Charles.
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Charles didn’t reply and you didn’t expect him to. He had a meeting with a brand so he had told you earlier that he won’t be able to reply to you immediately but you told him it won’t be a problem as you wouldn’t be going anywhere.
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“Hi, baby.” Charles came home and placed his watch on the dining table before giving you a peck on your cheek.
“Oh, hi!”
“Where did you go today? I thought you said you had no plan?”
“Ah, I went to get these!” You popped a slice of cherry tomato into your mouth and offered one to him. Charles then went to your side and leaned over so you could feed him. “It was crazy expensive, wasn’t it?”
He was already walking to the fridge to get himself a drink while still chewing on the cherry tomato. “Sorry?”
“I can’t believe it was that expensive!” You threw in another cherry tomato into your mouth.
“The cherry tomatoes?”
“No, the air!”
Charles frowned before closing the fridge and ambled his way back to where he was by your side. He was clearly confused, it looked like he had question marks all over his head and you had to control your laughter. “What air are you talking about, baby?”
“The tire pressure! I never knew they charge you £50 per tire!”
“What? Who told you that?” Charles tilted his head to catch on your gaze.
“The guy at the tire shop! He was like ‘you have to pay £50 for this’.” You mimicked the way the guy supposedly talk.
“Was he trying to tell you a joke?”
“No, he wasn’t! I was supposed to pay £200 for all four tires because he told me all of them were under-inflated but he gave me a discount so I only had to pay £100 which was a good deal because that meant I paid what…like £25 per tires.”
“Wait, wait. Slow down. I’m confused.” Charles shook his head as if he was trying to shake off those question marks and pushed the bowl of cherry tomatoes away so you could stop munching on them and pay attention to him. “So, you are saying that you paid £100 for the air?”
“I paid £100 instead of £200, yeah.” You shrugged and pulled the bowl closer to take another cherry tomato.
“Baby, stop.” He held your wrist before you could touch them.
“Why?”
“You paid £100 for air?”
“Yes, mon beau. It was a good discount I know. He probably gave the discount because I looked pretty today.” You retracted you arm away from his grip to go back to the cherry tomatoes.
“Stop, stop.”
“Charles!” You scowled at him and crossed your arms.
“They didn’t give you a discount, they scammed you!”
“What? Why?” You could get an Oscar for the facial expression alone.
“You were supposed to pay 50 cents for it. No one paid that much! Are you crazy?” He gasped in horror and looked like he could faint any moment.
“It wasn’t me! It was the guy!”
“I’m gonna give them a call.” He heaved a sigh and was about to walk away to get his phone before you casually replied, giving him another heart attack.
“He said it was a premium air.” You tried making it sound like a mumble but it was clear, clear enough to make his ears red as he turned back to look at his girlfriend who looked so nonchalant that he wished he could knock some sense into her head.
“What did you say?”
“It was premium air. He said it was more crisp than the normal one.”
“Baby, my blood pressure has reached my head and I’m getting goosebumps. Please tell me this is a joke.”
“I’m not joking! I paid them cash.”
“You paid them cash? Why would you pay them cash? Now we can’t even file a complain because we have no proof.”
“They said they only accept cash. Do you want another cherry tomato?”
“Oh my god, baby.” Charles had no other words to continue this conversation so he just heaved a sigh again and leaned his forehead against your shoulder.
“I’m just kidding! It was a prank.” You giggled and stroked on his back.
“What?”
“It was a prank!”
He stood up straight and pinched on the middle of his brows. “Please don’t do that again. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“You should have seen your face! It was so cute!” You chuckled and pinched on his nose.
“No more cherry tomatoes for you. Give me that.”
“Wait, no!”
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vngelicc · 1 year
Text
𓆩♡𓆪 “It’s the way you can ride, think I met you in another life, so break me off another time,” – jock!jk
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·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — creampies, marathon sex (mentioned), face-sitting/riding, dirty talk, NASTY SMUT, soft moments too, drunk sex, oc being lovely and jk being obsessed with it, high sex, lazy sex, get ‘em cowgirl style, unprotected sex as always, jk gets sappy when drunk, love these two 🥺
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MONDAY
Mondays are reserved for studying after partying the weekend with Jungkook and his friends. You ran your errands in the morning and by lunch you were back home with Luna doing assignments and lounging around in your room. Jungkook usually was off doing his own things and then later dropping by with food at your house. Nights however weren’t any different.
Mondays are for winding back and relaxing, and lucky for you Jungkook knows exactly how to get you to unwind with him on a peaceful Monday night.
“Jungkookie,” you softly moan out, “feels so good, ‘s deep inside me.” You murmur out with your head tilted back and hands settled over his chest for leverage.
Jungkook had his lip caught between his teeth and his face was scrunched in pleasure. He lets breathy moans slip past his lips, his hands were grabbing anywhere he could reach. His hands greedily squeezed and played with your ass cheeks while you worked your hips up-down, side to side, and back-forth over is cock. Oh Jungkook was convinced you were made for his cock.
“Just like that baby,” Jungkook whispers in a huff, “made it so messy, gonna have you clean it all up.” He licks his lips and looks down where his cock appears with a sheen coat of creamy slick, a ring of white forms around the base of his cock which disappears every time you sink back down.
You mewl at the idea of licking his cock clean and your hips stutter in their movements, his cock digs into that sweet spot and you roll your hips eagerly for more. “Love making it messy for you,” you whimper, “sounds so good.” Your words are slurred from the pleasure, your eyes flutter shut as you start riding him faster.
The headboard begins hitting the wall repeatedly from the force of your movements. You raise your hips up and down on his cock, bouncing the way you know will drive him crazy. Jungkook can’t do anything but lay there and take it as you use his cock to get off. He becomes more vocal and less talkative as he loses himself to the feeling of your pussy massaging his cock.
“Oh fuck..” Jungkook throws his head back and clenches his jaw, the way your hips slow down at the base of his cock and swivel in a small circle has him gripping the sheets for life. “Like that.” He swears you’re trying to kill him or something.
His groaning and slight whimpers send you over the edge, your tummy feels like there’s a ton of butterflies in there with the way he’s moaning out for more. You eagerly bounce on his cock with wet slaps as your ass makes contact with his thighs. His cock perfectly aims for your g-spot and has you shaking from your thighs.
“Jungkook..! ‘M gonna cum..!” You throw your head back, “Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you repeat breathily as a low whine slips past your lips.
Jungkook rolls his hips upward to aid you, his fingertips press into your hips as he grabs you for dear life. “Shit y/n,” he hisses out as he throws his head back, he feels your cunt clench down tightly on him and it makes his poor cock throb with need.
It happens so quickly neither of you register your orgasm at first, at least not until he feels your cunt squeeze him rhythmically, pulsing as your cream all over him and make the slick dribble down to his balls. Jungkook slows you down as his cock throbs weakly in response, it’s easily one of the most intense orgasms he himself has ever had. He feels like he’s in paradise as he collapses into the bed.
“Oh shit..” He gulps, what exactly just happened?
You collapse on top of him with a weak little moan, “Felt so good..” You whisper out as your eyes flutter tiredly, “I don’t wanna get up..” You mumble. Jungkook slaps your ass in response with a tired groan.
“You have to, gotta clean up.” He sleepily replies, ignoring your whine of protest. What a night..
+
TUESDAY
Tuesdays are free days, you always like to stay in and take the day off from studies and anything work related. You spend it lounging with Jungkook in his apartment watching some random movie on his TV while he rolls a blunt in the background propped up against your ass using it as a pillow.
“Baby,” Jungkook mumbles and licks over the wrapping paper, “I want some..” He murmurs out in a low whiny tone.
“Some what?” You softly reply.
Jungkook reaches up to grip your soft ass cheek, fondling it in his hand as he turns his head to give it a soft little kiss, “You know what.” He murmurs as he sets aside his blunt on the rolling tray and turns over. He cages you in under him, arms settling over both sides of you as he leans down to kiss your shoulder, “What are you watching?” He says softly as he looks over your shoulder.
“I put on that new Scream movie that came out.” You reply softly, shivering a tiny bit because you feel his necklace dangle behind your neck.
He hums nonchalantly and kisses over your shoulders, sighing deeply as he turns his face to hide away in your neck. He slips his greedy hands under you and into your shirt, cupping both tits in his hand as he rubs his thumb over your nipples and occasionally pinches the soft buds. When you whine out his name in that sweet little voice of yours he can’t help it, he turns you over on to your back and leans down to kiss you.
You softly moan against his lips and wrap your arms around his neck, he settles himself nicely over you with his hands splayed over your hips gently. Jungkook’s lips move against yours slowly. He's not rushing or anything, just savoring this nice moment with you. You’re not in much of a rush either anyways.
“Wanna smoke some?” He asks softly when he pulls away from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting both of your lips. He stares down at you with half lidded eyes and his lip between his teeth.
You look back up at him with hazy eyes and nod, “Yeah..” You pull him down for a gentle kiss, “Just a lil’ okay.” Jungkook nods and his eyes flutter shut again, kissing you while he reaches over for the rolling tray.
When you both pull away from the heated kiss you’re both panting softly, the movie is long forgotten and Jungkook focuses on lighting the blunt. You sit back and watch as he takes a small hit, hissing under his breath as he holds the blunt out to you. “You don’t have to.” He gently reminds you like every other time.
“I’m fine..” You softly say and take the blunt from his hand, taking a semi-long drag like he’s taught you before. It’s been a while so you end up coughing a tiny bit but Jungkook simply smiles as he drags you onto his lap. “ ‘m okay Jungkookie..” You murmur and pass the blunt back to him.
Jungkook takes a long drag from it as he lays there with his arm behind his head. Occasionally he passes it back and forth with you until there’s nothing left of it. You’re both left lying there with half-lidded eyes, high out of your minds but more importantly..horny. With Jungkook there’s no in-between, either he’s super hungry/sleepy or he’s super fucking horny. Same went for you.
It’s no surprise you end up lying under him with your panties cast to the side and his cock inside of you. Jungkook lazily leaves his marks all over your neck and tits he’s worse than usual as he covers you in dark purple blotches. The feeling sends shivers crawling up your spine, the pleasure is heightened from the weed doing its magic. You swear everything is ten times more better this way.
Jungkook lays his body flat against yours, groaning quietly into the side of your neck as he clenches the pillow tightly. You really made a mess this time given that his pelvis is smeared in your slick, every thrust sends you reeling in pleasure from the way his fat cock rubs against your oversensitive walls and his hips rub up against your swollen clit. You could really just cum from this slow pace alone.
“Kook..” You murmur out quieter than usual, your hands weakly come up to grip his shoulders. Your thighs shake from holding them up around his waist, they slip every so often until you end up lying there bonelessly with a weak whimper escaping your lips. “ ‘s so good..” You mumble.
“Yeah..” Jungkook turns to capture your lips in a slow kiss, “Need more..?” He hums out, reaching down to thumb at your slippery throbbing clit.
You keen in pleasure, hands shakily coming down to grip his wrist to stop him, “ ‘s too much..!” You gasp out, “Nooo..” You whine out, “Gonna make me cum too fast..”
Jungkook doesn’t reply and keeps rubbing instead, his hips kick upward a bit more forceful but still maintaining that lazy pace. He silences your moans and whines with a kiss, panting hotly into your mouth as he moves his lips against yours. The noises you two emit from the filthy kiss only makes you throb even more, you feel a bit of drool slip down your chin too..
“Mmm…” You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him to you, panting as you try to pull away from the kiss.
Everytime you do move away he follows you, lips pressing against yours insitently as he moans lowly, “Stay still for me baby..” He mumbles, “Wanna kiss you.” He whispers as he stares into your eyes. Both of your lips are coated in spit, glossy and swollen from basically sucking eachother’s faces off. Jungkook thinks it makes you look cuter.
“Jungkook,” you gasp and arch your back. He hits your g-spot dead on at this angle and it sends you into a surprise orgasm. It hits slow and makes goosebumps form all over as you tremble under him whimpering. He lazily smiles and keeps fucking you past your orgasm, chasing his own as he hugs you tightly and buries his face in your neck.
You lay there whining for him in oversensitivity as your cunt clenches around him tightly. Jungkook cums after a few more thrusts, he doesn’t make any noise and simply shivers as he slumps against you. “Ah.. fuck.” Jungkook mutters, “Baby, you want somethin’ to eat?” He smacks his lips as he slowly sits up, cock slipping from your wet pussy with a lewd squelch.
“Chips?” You softly say.
“Okay..” He slowly rolls out of bed, “Stay here, I’ll go buy some from the 7/11. I won’t take long, love you.” He comments on his way out after re-dressing.
“Love you too.” You sleepily smack your lips and lay back down with a sigh.
+
WEDNSDAY
Wednsdays you do your laundry, you find it so much easier to do it in the middle of the week that way you have it out of the way.
Jungkook sits there with his hands in his pockets just admiring the pretty view, oh it’s a view alright. You’re bent over digging through the dryer wearing these tight little shorts you got from PINK, you even wear this white tank top that rides up and shows your soft little tummy. Jungkook tilts his head with a stupid smile, kicking his legs as he watches your cute ass (literally).
“Jungkookie, I didn’t know that you had to take your dry clothes before the timer ends because then your clothes shrink! Can you believe that, look what happened to my undies.” You lift up the red lace undies to show it to him, dangling them right in the air where everyone looks and stares in shock.
Jungkook chuckles quietly, “Oh you’re so fucking cute.” He whispers under his breath and turns to side-eye someone who gives you a judgemental look, “C’mere, I can’t see them from here.” He says patting his thigh.
Like a puppy you come right over with the basket of dry clothes, huffing as you set the basket off to the side. You step in between his legs and lift the panties up, “See? I think they’re going to fit tighter now.” You pout.
“Tighter the better.” He grins and swoops down to take the garment out of your hands. “So,” he starts as you step away to the side, “are you still down to go out later? Jimin wants to go to this new bar that opened up, opens around eleven I think.” He tosses your panties into the basket as he gently taps your arms with his fist.
You nod, “Oh yes! I even bought this new outfit that I really like Jungkookie, it’s pink, it’s cute, and it’s pretty.” You cheekily smile. He laughs and you keep going, “The only downside is I don’t have anything to cover up with when it gets cold..” You pout sadly but then smile at him, “Can I have your hoodie? I think it’ll look super cute.”
“Sure, knock yourself out baby.” Jungkook grins softly as he picks out a few of your panties from the basket to neatly fold, “Maybe you should buy more of these,” he dangles the lace panties in your face, “they make your ass look so pretty.”
“I know! I was thinking about getting more because of how comfy they are!.” You smile softly and step between his legs again, giggling when he wraps his arms around you tightly, “Jungkookie if you help me fold the rest of my stuff I’ll show you what I got on right now.” You tease softly in his ear.
Jungkook hops off that counter so fucking fast.
+
THURSDAY
Thursdays are the busiest for you, they’re spent going to your lectures and turning in important papers. Your poor little brain is so fried by the time you’re done! Nothing beats coming home to Jungkook though, he already knows exactly what you need.
“R-Right there..!” You gasp and bury your fingers in his hair, “Please, please, please,” you beg under your breath and rock your hips against his face. Jungkook does not disappoint, he gives it his all, lapping at your slicked up hole and sucking on your fat little pussy lips, groaning and occasionally going back to your clit.
His strong arms hold you down over his face, his nose occasionally bumps into your clit whenever you move forward a tiny bit too much. You put one hand on the headboard and angle your hips down so your pussy sits perfectly atop his face. You’re half tempted to just ride his tongue, to make him take it while you get yourself off on him. He wouldn’t mind..would he..?
Jungkook’s hands squeeze your asscheeks tightly when you begin to ride his face earnestly. He moans softly and manages to catch your clit in his mouth, sucking harshly before letting his tongue run over it. “Kook..!” You sob out, hips humping his face as you rub your clit over his soft tongue over and over again.
Jungkook let you have it, groaning under you as he slapped your ass while you rode his face. He felt your thighs squeeze his head from the pleasure, shaking every so often as your hips stuttered in their movements occasionally. He was in pure heaven right now with a mouthful of pussy and your thighs as his earmuffs. He didn’t EVER want to leave.
“I’m coming..!” You whimper all breathy and high, “J-Jungkookie..!” You gasp out and your hips come to a stop as you cum hard. Your clit throbs and your pussy pulses around nothing. It feels so hot between your legs after such an intense orgasm. You almost forget Jungkook’s under you. “Oops..” You whisper and climb off of him, “Did I almost kill you?” You pout.
Jungkook pants softly as he lays there staring at the ceiling, “No.. even if you did I’m pretty sure that is what heaven feels like..” He whispers like he’s seen a whole new world, “Next time, wear your Sailor Moon costume.”
+
FRIDAY
Fridays are the best. The weekend is coming, classes are out for you, and Jungkook has plans for the two of you. You’re so ready to forget all about your stupid classes, and not to mention the fact that you’re looking forward to doing no work for the next two days.
Tonight Jungkook takes you out to a party his friend throws. You dance together and have a couple of beers before ending the night with good old fashioned body shots. Jungkook ends up taking about four shots from your pretty little body, and by the time you’re both going home in a uber he’s drunk and so are you.
Drunk nights lead to drunk sex, and drunk sex is hot, nasty, and it lasts all night.
You’ve been at it since you both stumbled into his room. He has you spread out under him wearing nothing but your pretty pink heels and that damned g-string with his intials hanging from the front and the back. The room feels hot and stuffy, the sheets are ruined and the headboard won’t stop banging against the wall. Your pussy makes the loudest noises ever, squelching wetly from both your creamy slick and his cum.
A light sheen of sweat covers your bodies, you’re not too sure how the hell he has so much stamina at the moment but you’re not complaining. In your drunken state you manage to pull him in by your legs, heels digging into his back as you cry out for more. Jungkook doesn’t mind, he carries on fucking you like nothing else matters. His balls slap against your taint creating this fopping sound everytime he bottoms out.
“Shit–” He moans out, “You look so goddamn pretty right now baby, pussy’s so fucken wet.. God look at those tits,” he slurs out and leans down to suck a nipple harshly, “fucken love fucking you.” He switches to your other nipple with a low groan.
You mewl in pleasure and hold on to the bed sheets for dear life as he fucks you within an inch of your life. It’s getting harder to hold back your orgasms when he’s pressing into your g-spot over and over again. This will go down in history as one of the best dickings he’s ever given you.
“y/n,” he moans, “look at me,” he pulls away to cup your face, “fuckin love you, you know that? Gonna make you my baby mama, marry you n all that shit too.” He grinds into you while he says this, “You love me too don’t you baby?” He moans out. You nod vigorously with tears in your eyes from the pleasure, you don’t trust your voice to reply verbally. Luckily he seems content with what, “Fuck,” he slams into you, “ ‘m gonna cum again..” He mumbles.
Jungkook fucks you until the sun rises, and by the end of it you’re left laying there with cum spilling from your pussy and sweat on your body. Jungkook somehow ended up on the ground sleeping in the mess of blankets and pillows, you don’t comment to much on that..
+
SATURDAY & SUNDAY
The weekend is reserved for fun, and fun comes in many forms. It could be Jungkook taking you shopping, going out to eat with friends, or even going out for drinks. This time however you’re both nursing the biggest hangover you’ve ever had. You decide a self care weekend is in order.
You both order takeout and spend the day inside curled up watching movies and trying to stave off those pounding headaches. “Owie..” You whimper and curl up into Jungkook’s neck, “The lights are hurting me.” You whine out, “Off, turn ‘em off..”
Jungkook hisses as he quickly shuts off his bedroom light, “Fuck I’m never drinking like that.” He shakes his head, “Next time pinch me if you see me trying to take shots or something baby.” He lays his head on yours with a sigh.
“That’s mean, why don’t I give you kisses! That way you focus on me and we can dance. Wait, do you want me to tell you no too for beer?”
“Oh you sweet thing.” Jungkook whispers under his breath, “Babe, beer is just as bad as the shots we drank, so yes, I need you to tell me no for that as well..” He trails off, growing sick from the thought of any more alcohol. You nod a bit too quickly because then you’re doubling over whining about the pain and dizziness, “You and me both baby.” Jungkook says as he sighs, “You and me both..”
And that’s how your week goes with Jungkook.
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fyodior · 10 days
Text
IM NOT ONE OF THOSE CRAZY GIRLS.
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pairing: chuuya x afab reader (no gendered terms used)
cw: sex pollen trope :3 horny nonsense, F and M masturbation, riding, creampie, pm!reader. MINORS DNI
wc: 1.9k
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It had been a mission just like any other mission - some, now formerly, Port Mafia-associated grunts had been dealing arms behind their backs, and you and Chuuya had been sent to swiftly and quietly take care of them. It’s what the two of you did best - swift, quick, quiet. Silence those who need to be silenced, force confessions out of those who need to talk. The two of you were the most highly coveted and revered duo in the PM for your abilities, supernatural and otherwise. 
Something… odd had happened during this one, though. One of them had an ability of some sort, of which he had been trying to activate when Chuuya promptly eliminated him. You had noticed something shimmering in the air around him, but you truly didn’t think twice about it, considering the commotion had kicked up a lot of dust in the old warehouse. But now, sitting in the back of the car next to Chuuya on the way back to headquarters, you’re starting to wonder if his ability had been activated by the time Chuuya had killed him. Because this very odd feeling in your body is surely not normal.
Beads of sweat gather on your upper lip and forehead as your breath quickens, and you can feel your face burning. A sour, swirling feeling in your gut is making you feel sick, and every square inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire, making your vision blur. And worse? You’re so fucking horny you can barely see straight, the throbbing in your pussy barely quelled by squeezing your thighs together. 
“Chuu, I’m not, uh,” you gulp, struggling to get the words out. “I’m not feeling great.” 
When he doesn’t respond, you look over to find him in worse shape than you. His normally pale cheeks are cherry red, sweat dripping down his forehead and matting his ginger hair to the sides of his face. Chest heaving, it seems like he’s gasping for air, and, wait - is he whimpering? When your eyes trail down his slim body, you spot the final confirmation needed to know that he’s in the same boat you are - he’s rock fucking hard, a clear outline of his dick painfully obvious in his slacks. 
“ ‘m not feelin’ great either,” he grunts, words shaky. He tries to cross his legs but yelps, even the slight amount of friction clearly too overwhelming. 
Never in your life have you felt this aggressively aroused, to the point where it’s damn near painful. At this point, all you can think about is touching yourself, and getting something inside you. 
“How much longer ‘til we’re back to headquarters?” your words are stunted, dripping with desperation. 
Chuuya checks his phone, hand shaking. “Thirty minutes.” 
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you whine, burying your face in your hands. 
It’s clear that both of you are feeling it, but neither of you are able to admit it. Not until Chuuya finally breaks. 
“I- fuck- I gotta come so bad before I fucking pass out,” he grunts.
Your eyes go wide at the statement - Chuuya was usually such a composed, disciplined man, that seeing him in such a frazzled, desperate state is shocking, and a testament to the potency of… whatever this is. But honestly, you can’t blame him. Instead, your mouth waters as he fumbles with his leather belt, unzipping his slacks and pulling out his thick cock. 
A hearty groan tumbles past his lips as he wraps a hand around his throbbing cock, pre already leaking out of the angry red tip. His left hand digs into the leather of the seat while he pumps his fist up and down his length, angling his body away from you as a last ditch effort to preserve his dignity, but it’s no use. 
“Fuck- sorry, sorry,” are the only words he can get out, jerking himself off faster and faster.
You hadn’t realized you had been holding your breath this whole time until your body finally forces you to release it. Chuuya and you had never been anywhere near an item, had never shared anything more but alcohol induced lustful eye contact during work events, but it would be a bold-faced lie to say you had never thought of him like that. But how could anyone blame you? It’s Chuuya. So the fact that the man is jerking off mere inches from you is… overwhelming to say the least. And is only worsening the ache between your own thighs. 
In a haze, you undo your own pants before shoving a hand inside, even the feather light pressure against your clit making you yelp. But, fuck, even the half-second of stimulation had your hips bucking, begging for more. With no other choice, you give in to your altered self’s demands, massaging your clit frantically and haphazardly. The groans and moans you let out are completely involuntary - you feel completely detached from who you are, what you are. The only thing you can think of at this point is how desperately you need to come. 
The problem is… it’s not happening. No matter how fast you massage circles around your throbbing clit, no matter how many fingers you shove inside your sopping cunt, it’s not enough. You’re getting close, close, close, right on the edge of reaching the release you so badly need, to be broken free from this obvious curse that’s been bestowed on the both of you, but it just won’t happen. And, looking at the man next to you, it’s clear he’s not faring any better. 
Chuuya’s all but given up, hands laying limp at his sides and head fallen back against the headrest as he pants, his still hard cock twitching in his lap. Your eyes flit between his face and his cock.
“Is it…”
“It’s not fucking working,” he grits, teeth clenched and eyebrows knitted together. The man is miserable. 
But maybe… Maybe the answer is each other? Maybe to break this curse, to undo this ability, you have to fuck someone else? It’d be a shit ability if you could just take care of it yourself… But proposing that to Chuuya? To the man you respect and revere so highly, a top executive at the Port Mafia, the man who could ruin your life and career in a second if you chose to jeopardize it like this… Fuck it.
“Maybe I could hel-”
“Please do,” he interrupts, pulling you in roughly and mashing your lips together. It’s all teeth and tongue and spit but all either of you can think about is how badly you need each other, how badly you need to be connected and to fucking come. Even through the haze of your curse, you still feel it. How Chuuya is doing the most to keep himself in check, doing his best to not crush you with his inhuman abilities, in the midst of a drunk-like state. Even at his worst, Chuuya is the most respectable man you know. 
A hand comes to wrap around his cock, but he stops you, gripping your wrist.
“Get on top,” he growls lowly, and you don’t need to be told twice. 
Shedding your pants in a frenzy, your heart races and your breath is ragged as you clamber onto his lap, wasting not even a second before you sink down onto his cock. Gravity does the work of fitting all of him inside you, and both of you let out broken, strangled grunts and moans of not only pleasure but relief. For the first time, it actually feels like a step has been taken towards relief. The answer had been there the whole time - each other.
The space is cramped in the backseat of this SUV, but neither of you could care less. Wrapping your hands around his neck, you use every ounce of strength you have in your thighs to bounce on his lap in time with his upward thrusts. It’s messy, haphazard, and both of you are just barely keeping it together.
Swift, quick, quiet has turned into sloppy, wet, horny. 
But god does it feel heavenly. It’s not just the curse that’s making this feel so damn good, Chuuya clearly knows what he’s doing - even if his game might be a little off currently. His thick cock is stretching your slick pussy deliciously, rubbing against each and every one of your sweet spots with every thrust. What he lacks in length he makes up for in motion, bucking his hips up into you at just the right angle to have you babbling a mixture of curse words and his name over and over. 
One of his hands snakes down between you, finding your clit and pressing against it - the sudden pressure makes you cry out, throwing your head back and clenching tight around his length, making the man hiss. 
“Feel good, yeah?” he smirks, rubbing small but quick circles around your neglected clit. 
“More,” is all you can manage, gripping his shoulders for better leverage as you ride him faster, desperate for the friction. The combination of his cock inside you and fingers massaging your clit finally has you reaching the climax you’ve been frantically chasing.
“C’mon, sweetheart, come for me,” Chuuya whispers against the shell of your ear as he fingers work rapidly against your sweetest spot. His words are suave and yet his voice still quivers, evidence of the fact that he’s still just as under the spell as you are.
“Y-you come too,” you stutter. “Us- both.” 
The broken sentence is barely out of your drooling mouth before your orgasm hits you like a fucking truck, and you cry out as it washes over you, feeling like electricity running through each and every one of your nerves. It’s a high you’ve never felt before, an ecstasy like no other.
The way you clenched and rut against him as you came has Chuuya following you not long after, spitting hot, thick ropes of come inside your pulsing cunt, but neither of you could care less. That’s a problem for a later date. Right now, both of you are just trying to come down from… whatever the hell that was.
Foreheads pressed together, both of you try hard to catch your breath, panting dramatically. A sharp hiss escapes your lips as you climb off his lap, his softening cock slipping out with a string of cum connecting the two of you. Things are slightly awkward as you do your best to shuffle back into your pants in the backseat of the car, and Chuuya makes sure to direct his gaze out the window, as if he wasn’t just balls deep in your pussy. 
It’s a given that neither of you can speak about it. It happened, it’s done, it’s over, you’ll return to being platonic work partners and pretend that this never, ever happened. And you’re fine with that, you really are. Until…
The tingling feeling is back. You’re getting hot all over, and your breath is quickening. And of course, the aching between your thighs. Looking over, and sure enough, Chuuya is already half-hard again. Fuck. The two of you make knowing eye contact. There’s only one direction this can go. Looking out the window, you’re minutes away from HQ.
“Your place or mine?”
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steddielations · 9 months
Text
Upstaged | Part 2 | Part 1
It all makes sense.
When Eddie comes back from taking photos with the fans, he looks a little sheepish for the first time. Steve has about a million things to ask, mostly he just wants to laugh about the fucking odds, but he remembers the grace Eddie extended to him about the press ordeal.
Instead, he settles back with his lime soda and a simple question, “So, what kind of music are you into?”
A grateful smile breaks out across Eddie’s face, ecstatic to dive into that with Steve. Their lunch extends into dinner. Steve doesn’t have anywhere to be these days and Eddie practically jumps up and down when the meeting he was in the area for gets canceled. They stay there for a couple more hours, just talking. 
Their music taste overlaps at certain points, Eddie talks about how getting his first guitar from the pawn shop pretty much saved him, Steve recounts a little league story that makes Eddie laugh so hard he chokes on his soda.
It’s the most monumentally casual time Steve’s ever had with a new friend in public and he’s not ready for it to end. Even after exchanging numbers and promising to meet up again, they still linger together outside.
“So uh, I remember where I know you from now."
Eddie leans against the side of the building. It’s getting dark, they’re tucked away from any eyes so Steve freely scoots closer to Eddie, waiting for him to explain. He does after a moment, seeming nervous and fiddling with his rings.
“I hate to ask, but my Uncle is huge into baseball, especially you and your general all-around-awesome thing. There weren’t players like you to look up to when he was young, all that. I’ve seen you on his tv so many times, you’re basically part of the family— ah shit, that’s weird, sorry,” he cringes a little, scrunching his nose in a way that makes Steve’s chest clench with affection, “But he’s getting old and like I said earlier, he’s my rock, he raised me and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least ask you to come see him sometime.”
The way he rambles is pretty endearing, looking at Steve with a wide-eyed hopeful expression, as if there was even a chance Steve would say no.
He reaches out, gently takes Eddie’s hand to stop his restless fidgeting, “You want me to meet your folks already, hm?”
Eddie lets out an amused scoff, looking down at their hands and back at Steve like he can’t believe it. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Steve.” 
Steve knits his brows, “Why’s that?”
“C’mon man. Y’know how hard it is to find someone who can handle this lifestyle, let alone all the shit that comes with me,” shaking his head a little, Eddie smiles but there’s something aching in it, “Then the nicest looking guy I’ve ever seen comes outta nowhere and saves my life, agrees to go to lunch, happens too know as well as me that life in the limelight ain’t always pretty and turns out to be one of the best people I’ve ever met.”
His fingers thread through Steve’s, holding tight like he’s not sure it’s real. “Even if I never see you again, I’m gonna write songs about you. I’d take you home and keep you right now if I could, but that’s not happening.”
There’s a part of Steve he’s kept shut down for years that comes pumping through his veins then, hot and alive. He realizes that he’s been trying so hard to keep his life as normal as possible that he’s been missing out on actually living it. Now he has this wonderful, crazy, wonderful man spontaneously in front of him and he’s not letting him slip away. 
Steve moves in, slowly crowding Eddie against the wall. Eddie’s eyes go a little wide with surprise then darken with desire. Steve watches his face shift through so many emotions, his mouth parting with a soft gasp, wanting this just as badly as Steve.
“Wanna bet?” Steve asks before he crashes into Eddie again. 
This time it’s a hot press of lips instead of a full-body collision, but it’s just as breathtaking.
Steve deepens the kiss, thrill prickling all across his skin when Eddie opens up for him right away. Steve licks passed the bright hint of lime on their tongues to get to Eddie. The heady taste of him makes Steve’s world spin, all the desperate noises between them going straight to his head.
“Want you so bad, Eddie, wanna keep you too,” he threads his fingers into all that hair, reveling in the shiver it elicits from Eddie, “God, just wanna have you.”
Eddie chases his lips, “You can, Steve, you can have me— please do.”  
Steve loves the sound of that, going in for a longer, more indulgent kiss before pulling back.
“You can’t take me home tonight,” he professes hotly against Eddie’s lips, “My place is closer, you’re coming with me.”
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