#they go out to the middle of nowhere or as close as they can get

[honey-on-your-tongue]

FWB

Part two Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist

You and Logan avoid each other for as long as you can. If you know he's in the kitchen or in the simulation room, you will go around the entire mansion just so you don't run into him. If he hears or smells you're in a room he's about to go into, he won't. He'll leave and wait until you go somewhere else.

A few weeks come and go like this. You and Logan don't even look at each other and it's all fine.

Until you go on a mission. There's no avoiding each other now.

It's not even necessary for the two of you to go. Most likely, Storm could handle it on her own. But she needs backup and Scott is too out of it, so you both have to go with her.

You understand Scott. Really, you do. But you kinda wish he'd be in condition to go with Storm and Logan so you wouldn't have to.

That's the only thought that adds bitterness to your day as you get in the jet. And then you see Logan, sitting in his seat, and your mind goes blank.

You remember him, lying in his bed, hard cock in his hand, precum on the tip. You blush at the memory and glance away.

Flustered, you rush to your seat, sit and buckle up and make a point out of staring out the window. You can feel Logan's eyes on you, but you refuse to react at all. Last thing you need is him getting the wrong idea.

But what is the wrong idea? You can't deny that you felt strangely flattered, and also extremely turned on. You'd had to touch yourself that night before you even considered getting any sleep.

You try not to think about it as Storm takes the jet into the air.

The thing is, you and Logan work together and if things go too far, it'll either end real good or real bad.

Most likely, real bad.

You push the idea away and instead try to focus on the mission at hand. You're supposed to find a group of mutants gone astray, wreaking havoc around a small town. Supposedly, their headquarters is in a warehouse, the remnants of an abandoned factor in a long-since forgotten part of the woods. It's in the middle of nowhere.

Storm lands the jet far from where the warehouse is located and glances back at the two of you. “We'll camp here for tonight. We'll move in on them tomorrow morning, the earlier the better,” she says.

You each get to work, setting up your tents, readying your suits, preparing yourself mentally for the coming day.

Night falls. You're in your tent, reading by the light of a flashlight, when you hear something outside. At first, you worry that maybe the trouble-making mutants have found you, but then Logan's head pops in through the flap of your tent.

-

He'd spent hours debating on whether or not to approach you. He knew it would be easier to let the whole thing blow over, but you two wouldn't be able to work if this doesn't get resolved.

So. What better way to resolve things than by sneaking into your tent long after he knows Storm is asleep?

He didn't think it through. He realizes that when he sees the look on your face at his sudden appearance.

“You scared me,” you tell him, huffing softly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly as he crawls into the tent, zipping the flaps closed. He sits across from you, awkward both because he's a rather large man in a tent and also because of the situation. “Didn't mean to scare ya. I just...wanted t'talk.”

“Oh,” you say quietly, a soft blush rising on your cheeks. “Yeah. I guess we...we do have to talk.”

He nods. “Okay. I'm...Look. I'm sorry. Really. About...the other night. I didn't mean—It was disrespectful of me. And I definitely didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I really am sorry. And, for what it's worth, I think you're gorgeous, in case that wasn't, y'know, evident.”

You hold his gaze for a moment before laughing softly. “It's okay. It's...Yeah, it's alright. I guess I should've knocked too, I just didn't imagine you'd be...doing...that.” You nod softly, another blush covering your cheeks.

“So we're...good?” he asks softly.

You nod. “We're good.”

He hums, a weight lifted off his shoulders. He glances at his lap before looking up to meet your gaze. He studies your face, your soft lips, your beautiful eyes, the perfect curve of your nose...

He's gawking without realizing it. He only comes to his senses when you laugh and bashfully ask, “What?”

He shakes his head, somewhat embarrassed, and says, “Nothin'. Just...you really are gorgeous.”

You giggle, a soft smile on your lips, and before he can stop himself, he reaches for you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You slowly fall silent, your eyes on his.

Logan takes a soft breath. “Let me kiss you, bub. Please, you have no idea how much I need it,” he whispers, his gaze falling to your plump lips.

You open your mouth to refuse, to remind him that you two work together and to tell him that you don’t want things to get weird. Instead, you hear yourself plafully say, “Only if you promise to never tell.”

Logan smirks and before you can proces your own fucking answer, he’s tugging you a little closer. “I promise,” he whispers before his lips crash onto yours.

He kisses you hungrily and demanding, his mind whirling from the taste of you.

He knows it's a bad idea. You know it's a bad idea. But the way he kisses you, the way his hands grab onto your body and tug you closer…

How are you supposed to resist?

He shamelessly shows you he wants you in the way his hands trace your body, the way he's basically panting.

He licks your neck, kisses it softly before sucking to leave a hickey. And you let him. God, you let him. How could you not? He's everything a girl could ever want.

He maneuvers you with ease, laying you down on the thin mattress before crawling on top of you. His fingers trace the skin of your waist, your hip, while his other hand holds him above you.

“This okay?” he asks you as his hand slips inside your pants, rubbing at your cunt through your panties.

You nod, breathing hitching. “Yeah.”

“’f you wanna stop, just lemme know,” he says, his mouth focusing on your neck as his fingers work your pussy until you've soaked through your underwear.

He's grinding his hips against your thigh meanwhile, his cock aching for more.

He pulls away for a moment to pull your pants off, then your panties. His eyes fall on your cunt, all slick with arousal, and his cock twitches.

Your scent is so sweet, so strong. He runs two fingers up through your folds, gathering the wetness before bringing them to his lips. He tastes you on his digits and loses whatever was left of his rational mind.

His head is between your thighs in a second, his mouth devouring your cunt like he's never gonna eat again.

You gasp, back arching, pretty mouth open in ecstasy, and Logan just has to watch.

He groans, his large hands moving your thighs to rest on his shoulders as his tongue slips up to your clit, flicking it a couple of times before replacing it with his nose. His tongue traces your entrance, licking up all your slick arousal.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you don't pull at first, afraid of hurting him. But the more the pressure builds in your womb, the more you lose awareness of being gentle and pull his head where you want it.

Logan groans as you tug on his hair, his fingers digging into your thighs. He traces your clit with his teeth, relishing in the tremor that washes over you.

Smirking slightly, he does it again and again and again until you're pushing him away, moaning as you come on his mouth.

He helps you down from your high before pulling away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You good, bub?” he questions, hand gently caressing your thigh.

You nod, breathing heavy, body boneless from your orgasm. “’m fine.”

Logan adjusts his hard cock in his pants, his breath hitching at the little bit of friction. He's never wanted it this bad…

He stares at you, all spread out, half-naked, blissed out, and he loses it.

“Lemme fuck ya, bub,” he begs, eyes wild, pupils dilated. “Need to put my cock in that pretty cunt ‘f yours.”

You hold his gaze, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “Do you have a condom?”

He grins. “You bought some f’r me, remember?”

You giggle softly. “I—Yeah, I did, huh?”

He licks his lower lip. “Does that mean I can fuck ya?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He almost growls in relief, his hands quickly undoing his pants. He tosses them aside, then grabs a condom from the pocket of his jacket. He takes the jacket off as well, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

He rolls the condom onto himself, his cock hard, the tip an angry red as precum drips from it.

He kneels in front of you, grabbing your legs and tugging you closer to him, making you gasp. His eyes darken at the sound and he jerks himself once, twice, before aligning his cock with your sopping entrance.

“You tell me if you want me to stop,” he says firmly.

“Okay,” you reply, breathless.

He holds your gaze for a moment before he thrusts into you, filling your sweet pussy smoothly.

You cry out, gasping, eyes fluttering shut.

He grunts as you clench around him tightly, his eyes rolling back. “Fuuuuuck, bub. Such a good pussy.”

He glances down as he starts thrusting, watching your cunt stretch to fit him. He grabs one of your legs and moves it onto his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper.

You squeal, eyes wide. “Fuck! Fuck!”

He fucks you hard and deep, the sound of skin on skin loud. He's grunting and groaning like an animal, his dog tags clinking with each thrust.

“Look at ya, bub. So pretty. Such a good girl for me,” he says, voice low and rough. “Look at that cunt. She's so greedy, look how she clenches around me.”

You whine, tears of ecstasy in the corners of your eyes. “L-Logan! Logan!” you moan, thighs quaking.

He chuckles. “Such a pretty slut f’r me. You enjoying yourself, bub?”

You whine, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Logan!” you squeal.

His hand slips between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in messy circles. He laughs lowly when your pussy tightens around him in response.

“Yeah, you're enjoying yourself.” He smirks, proud of himself, and he fucks you harder.

You begin to mumble, blubbering incoherently, unable to form words. You're just a gasping, sobbing, moaning mess and he's loving it.

“Gonna come already?” he mocks. “I just started with ya. Has no one ever fucked you this good?”

You squeal, gasping. All he can make out is a chorus of please please please please please that you repeat over and over again.

Eventually, he caves. “Yeah, alright. Go on, bub, you can come.”

His words are the final straw. Your orgasm hits you with so much force that you're left seeing starts for a minute or two. Your ears are ringing and your body is weak.

Logan wasn't prepared for how gorgeous you looked as you came. The sight of you along with the way you tightened around him sent him over the edge beforehand, making him gasp and grunt as he spills into the condom.

“Fuck,” he gasps, body shaking as he recovers from the climax. He glances down at you, watching you regain your breath.

Slowly, he lowers your leg from his shoulder before pulling out of you gently.

“You alright there?” he asks you, his knuckles rubbing your cheek tenderly.

You manage a weak nod and he smiles. “Can you talk, bub?”

You open your mouth to try and decide you cannot. You shake your head and he chuckles.

“Fucked dumb. ‘m gonna have a lotta fun with ya, bub. A lotta fun.”

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Taglist

@nerrivm @rosiahills22 @d3vils-adv0c8 @thychuvaluswife @18lkpeters @daddy333 @e-nonsense @ch3rryblossms @ayamenimthiriel @thesecretlifeofmo @simming4sims @raideaters-blog @1cam8 @angelicbbsblog @giuliahowlett @lemonsquaredd @meadow-field @secretpandaconnoisseur @givenoutlaw @wunder-blunder @aredheadednerd @fictionalmen-dilflover @insanesociopath @m1cky-y-y @fictional-hooman

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Blog masterlist

[blorger]

“Ah. Is that why you’re here, then? Getting over a bad breakup?” “Stuff it. It’s none of your business.” “Honestly, Potter, nothing’s going to be solved by hiding out here in the middle of nowhere,” Draco says, pointedly ignoring the twinge in his gut that tells him exactly how he feels about Potter leaving again. He’s trying to be nice, dammit, and if Potter’s here having an existential crisis about a breakup, of all things, well—that is much more fixable than Draco’s existential crisis. “Relationships with men, relationships with women—they all take work and communication, and there’s no fixing things if you just run away.” “That’s not why I’m here,” Potter insists, but Draco’s on a bit of a roll now; he’s done this enough for Pansy and Blaise, who have the same invariably terrible taste in both men and women, ignoring the feelings Draco suspects they have for each other because neither of them are terrible enough. “And besides, you’ve got the Chosen One ace up your sleeve,” Draco says. “That’s more than the rest of us have, you know? I’m sure whatever the issue is, your girlfriend is absolutely dying to fix it and get back in your good graces.” “Fuck you,” Potter says, sounding angrier than he has with Draco since the pre-biscuit era ended. “You really think that’d be a good thing? That’s why nothing’s ever worked out for me, you know. I don’t want anyone who has any interest in the Chosen One.” “But—you’re the Chosen One. That’s like saying you don’t want anyone who has any interest in—in Aurors, or speccy gits—” “Well anyone who has any interest in Aurors will have to look elsewhere now,” Potter says hotly, and Draco’s processing that as Potter keeps going. “And yeah, it would work out a hell of a lot better with someone who just thought I was a speccy git than someone who thought—” “You’re not an Auror anymore?” Draco asks, and Potter’s mouth snaps shut so sharply he can hear his jaw click. There’s a moment of suspended silence, and then Potter closes his eyes and gives a weary, unhappy sigh. “Yeah. Not anymore.” “Is that why—” “Yes,” Potter says, gritting his teeth together. He still hasn’t opened his eyes. “That’s why I’m here. Satisfied?” “Not even remotely,” Draco says without pause, and that gets Potter’s eyes fluttering open, which is only a good thing in Draco’s opinion. “Let me get this right. You’re here, having a giant sulk—” “I am not—” “A giant! Sulk! Because you broke up with your job?” Draco frowns deeply. “Or did your job break up with you? No, of course not, they’d never—” “And that’s the problem,” Potter says. “Of course they didn’t get rid of me, and they should have. I had to leave. I can’t go back, or they’ll just drag me back in and put—it’s too dangerous. So that’s why I’m here.”

from all the western stars by oflights

[seveneyesoup]

via @raindropsonwhiskers

#Lilith is just vibing but left to her own devices said vibes would destroy her #and I love that for her

literally that’s it!! i’ve sorta been neglecting her bc i didn’t know what to? do with her exactly. but since i decided how ghouls are made…. there’s more to work with.

since ghouls were people who didn’t get enough vampire blood to fully turn, their individual traits are going to be somewhere along that spectrum, from someone who came very near to having enough and would be more resilient + stronger + probably remember some things about their life, to someone who had barely enough to reanimate them, who might not even be capable of much complex thought.

lilith is somewhere in the middle, i think. she doesn’t remember anything about her life, and she doesn’t really become conscious until she has human flesh. as time goes on, she has. moments of wanting to survive. and continue. and last. and these get more frequent as her body starts to decay and i think james encourages it because he thinks it’s healthy not to be apathetic and host encourages it because he wants her to kill james and i think in the end when james kills her she is genuinely fighting to stay alive. which makes james feel really, Really guilty about having killed her.

idk. i just like the idea of her predatory nature being inherently familiar to valentine, and that being why he ignores the obvious. he can control himself. he told her why she has to. it’s the same. he knows it’s the same because he can feel it when she gets like that. but she’s not vamp enough to have selfish desires. just enough to hunt.

[luvsavos]

i deserve financial compensation for the amount of fucking hoops i had to jump through to enable tipping on here

[fushitoru]

i can't stop looking at his d—d—d—d—FACE!

pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) boy next door!gojo x reader, wrestler!toji x reader, gym trainer!sukuna x reader, pizza delivery boy!choso x reader, husband's boss!nanami x reader, perv on train!geto x reader

summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! inspired by this awesome post by the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3

warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), consent is pre-established in all scenarios (but dub con just in case), everyone is of age (or older), exhibitionism, infidelity in nanami’s, pussy drunk men lol, not edited (as always), cowgirl, missionary, creampies, VERY public sex in toji’s, art by 3-aem, lmk if I’ve missed anything!

a/n lolll i'm ngl this was so fun to write. some of these scenarios are so funnny hELP. this one is also for some of the anons who are so obsessed w choso and sukuna in bridgerton au. wrote them for you 🫡 choso’s is my fav hehe

NEW: part 2 here

general masterlist

SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ HOTTIE'S PERSONAL TRAINER HAS A VERY HANDS ON APPROACH!

“Brat!” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Watch your back. You’re supposed to be hinging your hips back, not whatever lazy shit you were doing.”

He steps around to your side, the heavy thud of his boots on the gym floor adding to the oppressive weight of his presence. Squatting down, he sets his hips back in one smooth motion, demonstrating with sharp precision. “Like this. Not whatever the fuck that was.”

You glance at him, your legs trembling under you. Sweat clings to your skin, a thin sheen that feels heavy after the grueling thirty minutes with your personal trainer. Sukuna definitely takes the "tiger mom" approach, every tattoo on his body echoing the sharp, uncompromising authority in his eyes. Right now, those eyes bore into you, narrowed with impatience, his hands on his hips. His scowl is practically carved into his face—stone-hard and unmoving.

Breathing hard, you slump forward, hands gripping your knees as you gasp for air. Your heartbeat drums loudly in your ears. “Sukuna, g-give me a sec. I just—fuck—” You can barely string a sentence together between gulps of air. “I just maxed out. My legs are literally shaking.”

Sukuna clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, but his voice softens—just a little. “Fine. Catch your breath. But as you do that, let’s practice proper form.”

You nod exhaustedly, not being able to think very clearly. Wiping the sweat to prevent it from getting into your eyes, you put your legs hip width apart as Sukuna gets behind you to observe your form. You bend down, trying to sit back onto your hips as best as possible, but as soon as your ass grazes Sukuna’s crotch, you lose the form in your back in surprise. “Sorry—”

“That was wrong.” Sukuna’s voice is in your ear as he puts his hands on your hips, and you are dizzy with the contact. “Here.” Both of you squat down, Sukuna’s hard body moving right behind you, and at the lowest position, Sukuna’s thumb roves over the fat of your ass, and they leave your hips to trace up your back. “Your back should be neutral, otherwise you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“O—okay,” you breathily reply, dizzy with the way he was touching you. If you listened closely, it almost sounded as if you were whimpering. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like Sukuna was more observant than you had hoped because he was looking at you in suspicion, eyes raking up and down your figure to observe your appearance. Disheveled, chest rising rapidly, sweat dripping right in the middle of your breasts—

Sukuna, out of nowhere, grabs your hand and begins walking away. “Come with me. You’re not doing them right.”

Soon, you’re led into one of the gym’s stretching rooms—the private ones, the ones meant for Sukuna to help you after the workout. 

“Sukuna, what are we—” you breathlessly ask, but you’re quickly shushed by Sukuna as he hoists himself on the massage table.

“Come here,” he motions to his lap, and you wordlessly follow his directions, sitting directly on top of his lap, gasping as you realize there’s a bulge making contact with your pussy. “We’re going to try an alternative way of doing squats, one that involves a bit more cardio.” He pulls down his sweatpants, blushing, furious cock springing out as he pulls down your yoga pants.

Soon, you’re moaning as you slowly take in his cock, sliding down as his precum and your copious amount of slick mix and drip onto his pelvis. Your feet are on either side of his legs, making you squat every time you lower yourself down on his length.

“Fuck! You’re so tight.” He slaps your ass as you bounce yourself rapidly on his cock. “Pretended to not know how to squat just for me to put this fat cock in you, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t have the capacity to answer, just moan as his cock hits your spot. Unsatisfied with your pace, Sukuna flips you both over until your back is on the table. 

“Oh fuck yea,” Sukuna pants, hips pistoning into you rapidly, effectively fucking you into the table, and his quads are bulging in sheer strength as they clench and unclench in reflection of his pleasure. “Didn’t know my client had such a sweet pussy.”

KAMO CHOSO ⸺ SHE ORDERS BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA AND GETS HER DEEP DICK CRAVINGS FILLED! (the title is so ridiculous im crying)

“Your total’s $14.93. You’re five bucks short.” The delivery boy—an emo looking guy with hair in space buns—responds to the wad of cash and coins you had just given him. He couldn’t look any less bored than he was as he stared down impassively at you, hot, steaming pizza in one hand.

"Wait, but I ordered a small?" You ask him in confusion. "I couldn't possibly finish a large one by myself!"

He pulls out your receipt from where it was tucked into the pizza box. "Your order said a large." Upon glancing on it, you look that he was indeed correct—right next to your pizza, the size LARGE glared at you through the sheen of the reciept's paper.

"Oh," You said, dumbly, blinking in confusion. "Well, I can pay the rest in card if that's okay."

You get an impassive "I don't have a card reader."

"Oh, okay," you laugh nervously, hand going up to scratch the back of your head and fiddle with the rest of your fingers. "Okay, well," you squinted at his nametag, "Choso, let me just check the remaining cash I have. You can come inside if you'd like." 

He comes inside, dropping off the pizza you ordered on your kitchen counter as he makes his way to sit on your couch. You go to your bedroom, checking your desk drawer for any loose cash you may have stored but to no avail. Heart racing and nervous, you frantically search the upper shelf of your room, on your tiptoes as you look for your money jar, praying that there was a 5 dollar piece of cash lying around. Instead, your fingers crash against some book propped on it, tumbling down onto the floor with a large thud!

You hear footsteps coming up to your bedroom door. Choso, standing near the door. "You good?"

"Yea," you strain, still reaching up high to grasp at the jar. "I'm just trying to find somethi—”

The heat of Choso's body surrounds you as he presses closer to you, reaching up effortlessly to grab at the money jar. His groin presses against your backside, acutely aware of his breaths as he passes you the jar. 

Which is empty.

"Fuck!" you curse. You turn, looking at Choso in anxiousness, as you notice he hasn't backed away at all. "I'm sorry, but is there any alternative way to pay for the pizza? Again, I'm really really sorry for the hassle."

"You have to pay for the food in some sort of way," he says with a stony face. Your mind is racing, thinking of ways you could pay but coming up short.

As a result, you end up with your face stuffed against your pillow, the hot delivery boy plowing and drilling his cock into you. 

"Fuck, so irresponsible. Couldn't even pay for the pizza she ordered without a stranger's cock inside of her." At his dirty talk, you whimper and squeeze your pussy, Choso groaning as a result.

"What was that?" He grabs your hair and pulls your face up as his tongue traces the frame of your ear. "What were you trying to say, you cockslut?"

"'M sorry!" You squealed and babbled, eliciting little ah! ah! ah!'s as he continues bumping his cockhead against the gooey spot inside your pussy.

"Yea, you better be. Wasting my fucking time. I'm going to come inside, got it?" Choso growls as he continues pistoning his hips inside.

GETO SUGURU ⸺ ANIME GIRL GETS HER PUSSY FINGERED ON PUBLIC TRAIN!

He pulls you in for a deep kiss while rutting inside you. "Aren't you my good girl? Taking this cock for me like a good girl?" You squeal, blabbering nonsense as he fucks you into next Tuesday…

You read the smut from your favorite author on Tumblr, devouring each word while remaining stony faced as the train rocked underneath your feet. In the corner facing the doors, you made sure that you were angled in such a way that no one would be able to see the filthy things you were reading on your screen. 

However, the metro was slowing down and you looked up quickly—which was painful, considering you were so invested in the story—to make sure it wasn't your stop. As the rush of foot traffic simultaneously populated and vacated the metro, you paid no attention to the people behind you. After all, other people would be too busy on their phones to see what you were reading, right?

"You're going to take this cum, right? I'm going to breed you, my sweet, sweet girl." He laughs.  You take a moment to take in his pretty features. Long hair, beautiful face, all filled with lust for you...

You scan the words, blush evident on your face as your favorite writer has done it yet again. Adjusting, you squeezed your thighs for relief and toyed with the hem of your skirt, failing to notice the soft breaths trailing down the back of your neck just because of how enthralled and taken you were with the plot.

And then, a hand trailed up your thigh, catching you by alarm. You almost drop your phone in your rush to turn and look at the creep that was touching you, ready to beat the shit out of him. 

But when you do turn, you stop and widen your eyes. The man in front of you seems even prettier than the fictional man you were reading about, and you take him in as he rubs circles on your thigh. His sultry eyes rake down your figure, his lips pulled back in a knowing smirk. "That's some filthy shit you're reading."

Looking at him, your heart starts beating faster solely because of the promise of what his hands would do as they were currently softly stroking your thighs, getting closer and closer to going under your shirt. "I—I—uh sorry—I—"

"It's okay, pretty girl." He gives you a kiss on the side of your neck. "Continue reading it. Can you do that, baby?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Coincidentally, you're at the part where the man helps the girl masturbate, rubbing and teasing her pussy up and down. The man behind you does the same, teasing your lips while refusing to delve inside your panties, no matter how badly you want him to do.

"That feel good?"

You whimper. "Yes—ah—it feels good. Please touch me on my pussy directly. Please."

The man behind you chuckles, and your knees buckle at how rich his voice is. You would join a cult for this man. "Since you asked so nicely, I will. Call me Suguru."

His fingers pull your panties aside and enters, soon knuckle deep inside your cunt, and as quietly as you can, you moan his name as he continues fingering you in front of all the strangers on the train. His hips press closer to your ass, and you throb even more at the huge bulge he’s sporting. He’s sloppily licking on the outside of your ear, right where you’re sensitive, and you shiver and lose yourself in the pressure even more.

The pleasure was building in you steadily and Suguru groans. “That’s right, take it all.”

You almost jump when the PA sounds. "The next stop is Shinjuku."

“That’s my stop. You have to cum before then, or you won’t be able to cum,” Suguru whispers in your ear, speeding up and hitting your g-spot with precision. There are tears forming in your eyes as you make an effort to stay quiet, especially with Suguru giving seductive kisses to your sensitive neck. 

“Fuck, you got so tight,” he groans. “Gonna cum?” He uses his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit, and you see stars. 

“I will—I will,” you cry, as the throbbing and pulsing sensation grows faster and faster until finally, you cum with a muffled cry, because Suguru has his fingers in your mouth to ensure you don’t scream out on this very, very public train.  “Squeezing my fingers so much, relax,” Suguru laughs, popping his slick-coated fingers in his mouth. “You gonna do that to my dick next?”

NANAMI KENTO ⸺ BEAUTIFUL WIFE HAS TO FUCK HER HUSBAND'S BOSS! (NTR)

“Mr. Nanami,” you scrape a hand through your hair and clear your throat. “You wanted to see me?” 

For a moment, your husband’s handsome boss eyes you down, catching on the top button of your blouse currently unbuttoned. You mainly did it because of nervousness, the heat of the room escalating with Nanami Kento’s presence. After a long bout of intimidating silence, he finally speaks. “I assume you can guess why you are here?”

You bounce your knee as you sit across from the man, and you suddenly start sweating. Of course you can guess. Your bum of a husband—the one currently under your charge—neglects to do his deliverables, choosing to take comfort in the fact that you were his higher-up to trust that he would not be getting terminated for his lack of responsibility. 

But what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been begging Nanami not to fire him, despite the propelling and clear reasons to do so. And you fear the day he finally chooses to stop listening to you. 

“Team leader, I’m going to need much more convincing. Your team has been decreasing in productivity ever since your husband joined, and it’s hindering the company,” he reminds you stoically. “I’ve seen you working overtime far too frequently to cover up for your spouse’s negligence.”

You wish time would speed up just to get this difficult conversation with. “I—I’m going to be honest, Mr. Nanami. I don’t have much warrant to continue having him on the team, but it would put my family in much…emotional conflict if this were to happen.” The said emotional conflict would really only be from your husband. You’re sure he’s going to take this as an excuse to drink himself silly, blaming you for not being able to keep him employed. Your throat dries as you finally meet eyes with your boss, silently pleading him to come up with a solution.

“I see.” Nanami crosses his arms. “I suppose there is a…favor you could do for me.”

At that, you perk up and nod your head frantically. “Of course. Anything.”

Which is why you find yourself bent over Nanami’s desk, his cock drilling inside you. He’s ripped your stockings, pulled up your miniskirt, and put your panties to the side as he moans about how sweet your pussy feels. “I’ve been waiting for this forever. Tell me, is my cock better than his?”

“It is!” you squeal. “You’re so—so big!”

Nanami moans as he ruts inside you, your walls squeezing him tight. “Darling, I c—can tell he doesn’t treat you right. You are so tight around me, pussy’s been waiting for a while for a real man.” 

You moan and curse, blabbering affirmations while his dick impales you. Even though Nanami is the one who’s owed the favor here, his hands wind their way around your body to rub at your clit, simulating you even more, making you sob. “Please don’t stop!”

“I won’t ever, sweetheart,” he pants. “I’m going to finish inside her, okay? Make sure to keep it in when you go home and greet your husband.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI ⸺ BABE GETS IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED IN NAKED WRESTLING (WITH AN AUDIENCE) (find extended ver here!)

Cheers surround you as you step into the arena. You know who your opponent is—-Fushiguro Toji. Even when you looked at his pictures earlier, you knew you were doomed. No matter what angle the photographer took the photos in, his muscles seemed to be bulging, effectively spelling out the sore defeat you were about to face today.

And there he is. Him in the flesh. He’s leaning against the boxing ring’s outer borders, head tilted back lazily while his manager, Shiu, was informing him quickly (and intensely) about the rules of today.

Nothing crazy. Only fuck when all clothes are off of her.

The way his neck is tilted back, compression shirt showing off his upper physique made you weak in the knees already. Additionally, judging based off of the bulge he seemed to be sporting in his grey sweatpants, you knew you were doubly fucked.

Shiu seems to be done talking, so he steps back and takes a seat. Toji leans his head back, rolling his neck to stretch it out, and in the middle of doing so, catches your eye.

You almost drench your panties.

His eyes darken, giving you a sultry look as he cheekily winks. While his cocky demeanor was warranted (he was much stronger and bigger than you), your cheeks heated up in both arousal and irritation.

The sound of a whistle is heard as music starts to play. The stadium’s screens flashes the cocky image of Toji, who saunters in the middle of the ring, flexing his muscles to his screaming fans.

When your signature theme plays, you do the same, to no shortage of fans yourself. You can feel everyone in the stadium, especially your male fans, rove over your figure. You’re wearing a very low cut top that displays the swell of your boobs and even tighter shorts that squeeze your ass and show off the shape of your pussy. As you walk towards Toji, you can feel his heavy gaze on you as you nervously shake his hand.

“Try to last long, okay?” Toji smirks, patting your shoulder. “I’ll try to drag this out as much as I can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

You glare at him, but there’s not much intensity there. “Yea, yea,” you huff. “For all I know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

And the fucker’s smile widens. “Let the games begin.”

Soon enough, the sound of the whistle draws you towards each other, keeping each other in a lock to tackle the other down in an objective to take off layers of their clothing. Your fans cheer when you have Toji underneath you for a split second, only for female ones to become more riotous as he easily overtakes you, pins your hands down, and wrenches your shorts off of you.

“Toji is currently in the lead!” The announcer’s voice in the stadium echoes of your defeat as you flail around, now bottoms only covered by your panties. Deciding to pull out your signature move, you maneuver so your thighs surround Toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. This momentarily distracts and weakens Toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. You quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. The whole stadium, in fact, can his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

Your attention is back to Toji as he chuckles darkly. “You’re going to regret that. I was going to drag this out, princess, but I gotta fuck the brat out of you.” With that, he puts his whole body weight on you and strips you down one by one.

The arena cheers as your lace bra is uncovered, your sweat shining on the screen as your breasts are displayed. Toji then unhooks your bra, and the roars get even louder as your tits pop out. He takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “What a sensitive girl,” he coos. “Too bad she was too weak. Now she’s going through to have to take my cock.

With that, he finally unveils your glistening pussy for all eyes to see and the crowd goes wild, chanting for Toji to finish inside you. Toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees and pulls down his pants.

You don’t look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck.” And Toji’s slowly entering you, the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “The fuck this pussy’s so tight for? Thought you were a slut?”

You’re tearing up, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “You’re not turning me on, small dick.”

He did not like that very much.

Toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “Yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? Why is she dripping? Just for that, I’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.”

The crowd chants cum, cum, cum! and Toji just does that. Ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear Toji declared as winner.

GOJO SATORU ⸺ GIRL GETS FUCKED BY PEEPING TOM NEXT DOOR!

You sigh, extending your back and un clipping your bra, letting your tits bounce free after a long, long week of college. It was finally Friday night, and with no one in the house due to a party the rest of your family was attending, you could finally enjoy your time home on the holidays, starting with a solo session.

You clench your thighs in anticipation as you scrolled your phone, seeking an audio you could masturbate to. And you were close to finding one, until you felt eyes on you.

These eyes were nothing new. The boy next door, Gojo Satoru, has also been your crush since middle school. Even though neither of you have ever made a move, you’ve made bold moves since starting college, stripping with the blinds open to give him a show. You had kind of had a sixth sense as to when the fucker would start watching you, and it flared as you slowly dragged your hands down. Bending over and shaking your ass, you slipped your skimpy shorts down your legs, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy.

But masturbating wasn’t enough for today. None of the college frat bros could make you cum, no matter how much they boasted about their fuckin roster, and you were tired of Satoru just watching. Just seeing him work out shirtless in his lawn, sun shining his sweat to give him a golden halo, was enough to make you sick, hungry for his dick. The way he was so shy and the mannerisms he had (as a loser) let you know he had a big fucking dick.

Needless, to say, you were tired of just fantasizing and speculating about his dick. Turning around, the moonlight allowed you to see the silhouette of his wrist moving up and down his length, even if he had tried to make his best effort to darken his rooms. Putting on your best show of an angry face, you grab your phone aggressively and dial his number.

The line rings, and he picks up. “Hey,” and you can tell he’s a little breathless. “long time no see. What’s up?”

“Cut the fucking act out,” you spit. “I know you’ve been fucking watching me, perv.”

Satoru’s panic is comically obvious over the phone as he rushes his words. “Wait, wait—listen, I—I can explain.”

“On how you’re being a peeping tom?” You glare at his window. “Come over, Gojo. Then I’ll listen to your fucking explanation.”

One thing leads to another, and now you’re spread out on your childhood bed, Gojo whimpering and whining as he plows his dick into your pussy. “You feel so—so good. M’ sorry—sorry for doing that. Your pussy is too good for me to look at.”

You laugh meanly and grab his chin. “You feel sorry yet, you pervert?” And Satoru can only cry out as you yank his head. “Remember, this is the only fucking thing you’re good at. Being my glorified dildo. Got it? Now, you’re going to fill me up only after you make me cum at least two times.”

a/n yea this was depraved….lmk what yall think tho 😭

comment and reblog I’d love to hear your thoughts! (also, requests are open heheh)

NEW: part 2 here!

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I'm at my parents' hunting camp in the middle of nowhere cleaning out the trailer that was left there, I've had a lot of time to think and I can confirm that I'd be more afraid of a man than a bear rn and forever

[isuggestforcefem]

I think you’d get a kick out of the story of how I realized I was a woman. I didn’t get forcefem’d by mad scientists, but I think I have gotten as close as you can get without anybody breaking the law in a EU country.

Some people at my university wanted to scan people’s brains, have them do hrt for a month, then do another their brain scan.

I thought I was cis, but I signed up. I told myself that I was doing it for the bit, for science, and because the pay was good (local currency equivalent to 35 euros + a free sandwich per brain scan or blood test).

One week of hrt and I knew that I wasn’t ever going back. I’ve never had much interest in feminine things, so it felt like it came out of nowhere at the time. In hindsight there were a lot of signs. It certainly explained why I read so much forcefem/magic genderbend fanfic in middle school, and also why I only enjoyed the stories where the (formerly) male character ended up as a tomboy.

This is incredible. Thank you.

[kyseya]

You reap what you sow

Yandere farm brothers x f.reader

—————-

Just your typical luck, your car had suddenly broken down in the middle of nowhere. What will you do now? You can’t stay there, there’s no food or water available. Luckily, you hadn’t run out of recourses just yet but it was very close to being gone.

You stepped out of the car and went around it, staring it down with waves of irritation rolling off you. You tried coming up with a plan. The next stop was miles away and it was nothing but a daydream that you’d be able to make it there on foot.

Right as you were about to give up and let the animals take you, the sound of wheels on gravel caught your attention. Turning around, you saw another car speeding towards you. Yes! You were saved! You waved at the person in the car and luckily enough it stopped. ‘I’m gonna pray it’s not Michael Meyers lost cousin or something.’

The door to the passenger side opened and you spotted a man sitting behind the wheel. He was young, around your age, probably a little older perhaps. He had dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. You instantly noticed a scar below his left eye as you glanced at his face. You had to admit, he was very handsome; in a rugged type of way. You couldn’t help but eye how his plain shirt hugged all the muscles on his body. You mentally slapped yourself, ‘Geez (Y/n), you’re here to ask for help not ogle him like the last piece of cake at the party!’

“Your car broke down?” He asked, looking at the worthless piece of junk that had decided to betray you just minutes ago.

“Yeah, it did.” You scratched the back of your head in slight embarrassment. “I couldn’t trouble you for a ride, could I?” He was quiet for a moment, in which you hastily added, “Not for long! Just so I can get proper help from a mechanic. I won’t be a bother I promise.”

The man nodded. “Alright then, hop in.”

Your eyes lit up at his response. You gladly took a seat beside him and thanked him again for his help. “Thank you so much. You’re literally saving my life.”

He nodded once more. Guess he wasn’t much of a talker. Well not that it mattered much. You’d only stick around until you got to a town and found someone who could fix your vehicle. You didn’t have to be all buddy-buddy with each other. You only had to be happy he didn’t seem to want to kill you and hang your organs like Christmas ornaments. The chance of you meeting again was down to basically zero.

Or that’s what you thought, but life has a funny way of messing with you. It must have a grudge against you or else you wouldn’t be seated in the same position you were previously, only it being about 3 hours later. The drive to the nearest town was long(you definitely wouldn’t have made it by walking) and when you got there, you found out the one mechanic they had was out of town.

You thought you were going to have to spend the night in a bush, but you were pleasantly surprised to have your muscular helper offer a nights stay at his farm. You were grateful(once more) and also confused. Why was he being so nice to you when he didn’t have any reason to? It didn’t make sense. The two of you had just met, plus that you’ve only spoken a number of times and none of the conversations were noteworthy.

It was after you accepted you got to know his name, Weston. It fit him quite well, you thought. He told you there was a spare room you could use. It would be further away from his, to offer you some sort of privacy. He also mentioned there was one other person living on the farm, his younger brother. If he annoyed you, you could just tell him off, Weston said to you.

Your butt was sore from all the sitting, both in your own car but also from this little trip. The sky darkened and the sun had nearly completely disappeared when you finally arrived at the farm. It looked like you imagined. There was a large house which you assumed was the main house. Behind it was a big, red barn. You thought you could hear the faint sounds of animals.

Climbing out of the car, you glanced expectantly at your host, waiting for his initiative. You didn’t want to be rude and march right up to the house. As you were waiting, another figure came into view. He was much like his older brother, with brown hair and eyes to match. He was smiling at the both of you, although you caught a slight suspicion towards you.

“Who’s the new kid?” He asked his sibling, who gave him a rundown of what’s happened. You were a bit annoyed at how he called you ‘kid’, you were very much a grown person. And he’s one to talk, you were sure he was younger than you, even through all that brawn. He wasn’t as tall as Weston but he was no joke either. The younger brother looked at you with sympathy, “Really? Well that’s unfortunate. What’re you gonna do now that the mechanic’s gone- since you need him I’m guessing you don’t exactly know how to fix cars.”

You sighed, “I’m not sure yet. I’ll come up with something tomorrow. I’m too tired from all the driving and thinking.”

“Alright, I get it. I’m Lucas by the way.”

You shook his hand. “(Y/n), and thank you for having me. You’re really saving me here.”

“Haha, well Weston likes to pretend he’s heartless, but he’s really just a giant teddy bear.” Lucas said and smirked as he received a glare from the ‘teddy bear’.

“Come in (Y/n), I’ll show you your room.” Weston led you into the house.

Right as you stepped over the threshold, you felt a slight chill. Something felt wrong. You turned around to see Lucas’ beaming face. He tilted his head in confusion.

“Everything good?” He asked, concern lacing his voice. You’d gotten the impression that he’s a chill guy, but now you started wondering if you’d made the wrong choice.

“N-no, everything’s great!”

There was no turning back now, you thought as you descended deeper into the house.

It was unfortunate that every time you followed one of the brothers into town again, for supplies and other things, the mechanic was never there. Sadly it seemed like his vacation wasn’t over yet which meant no way home for you. However, you didn’t have it so bad. The brothers had been kind enough to let you keep staying with them at their farm.

Honestly it was pretty good there. Sure, it wasn’t what you were used to, but some change of scenery was good for you. Not wanting to appear lazy, you helped them to the best of your ability around the farm. You couldn’t lift heavy things like they could even if you really put your back into it, and you certainly didn’t trust yourself to milk the cows; something you could do was cook! It’d become a routine for them to do their work during the day and you’d make them lunch and then dinner in the evenings. You’d never seen yourself as a homemaker, though this was kind of fun. Maybe it was the heat poking your brain or it was that you genuinely enjoyed their company.

Besides, it was really nice looking out the kitchen window and catching a glimpse of them at work. You weren’t proud, but it did something for you. The way droplets of sweat ran down their backs, not in a gross way though, in an appealing manner. During the instances they took of their shirts, you got a front row seat to see the muscles in action. You now knew Lucas had stone-hard abs and that Weston had a very nice back.

Despite the fun in getting to know both of them individually, there were some things you couldn’t deny making you uncomfortable. For example, there was the curfew. That one had a good explanation; there were wild animals sometimes running around and they didn’t want you to get hurt. That made perfect sense! Though you couldn’t shake off that one time you couldn’t sleep and had gone outside on the porch for some air. You were just relaxing and looking at the bright stars when shouting woke you up more than your insomnia. Lucas had come rushing towards you in panic. He’d frantically asked you what you were doing up. You responded honestly and he slowly calmed down. He said you shouldn’t go out by yourself anymore. If you can’t sleep you can see the stars perfectly from the living room window, or better yet, you can come to one of their rooms instead.

Then there was the room furthest back in the barn. Although it could be excused as well, they told you that’s where they slaughtered the animals. But you could swear you heard something from inside, something that doesn’t sound at all like a cow, a pig or a chicken. Suspicion arose in you, but fear held you in a chokehold and prevented you from investigating. However nice they were to you, there was no way you’d risk pissing them off. Especially since the mechanic still wasn’t back which meant you had no way to escape, if it would be necessary.

Lucas had been right, Weston wasn’t as scary as he seemed in the beginning. Sure, he was a bit rough around the edges but he had sweet moments too. Once during one of your little adventures on the porch, Weston had suddenly appeared by your side, giving you a scare. He apologised and asked why you were out. You were worried he would get angry considering you’d just recently had the ‘no more going out’- conversation with Lucas. To your surprise he chuckled at your nervous demeanor and did not reprimand you. He told you that in his opinion, Lucas was too paranoid for his own good and sometimes didn’t know when to stop. You don’t have to walk on eggshells, though you probably shouldn’t wander off the porch after dark. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Afterwards he declared he’s going to bed before wrapping you in a blanket, you didn’t even notice he had it with him until he turned you into a burrito. He was very sweet in his own way, you realised. From then on you paid more attention to the affection he undoubtedly showed. Sometimes it was hard to see, but it was definitely there.

Lucas on the other hand was more open with his affection; pulling you into hugs, asking about your day, petting your hair. All these thing he did daily. He, too, was incredibly sweet. Sometimes it was hard to comprehend that him and Weston shared DNA. They were so different. The only thing confirming their relation was little things how their eyes lit up the same way or how their smiles were similar(if you were fortunate enough to witness Weston smiling, that is). Lucas also had a protective streak. He constantly worried over your safety and wellbeing. Which was kind of nice, when he wasn’t nagging you about it every five seconds.

You better listen to them. It’s all for your best. Because if you don’t, you might end up walking into the barn, and then you might end up finding the remains of the mechanic you’ve been so desperately looking for. And that wouldn’t be very good now, would it?

[imaginedisish]

Liquid Smooth (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Started writing this last night...sooo happy you guys wanted a sex pollen fic! Hope it lives up to everyone's expectations! This one is (obviously) inspired by "Liquid Smooth," by Mitski. ENJOY!

Summary: A simple mission deep in a forest alone with Logan quickly gets out of hand when you just have to go and pick a flower...

Warnings: 18+ EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT MINORS DNI! Dry humping, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), Sex Pollen (so dub!con just to be safe, but not really), Multiple orgasms, Porn Without Plot...literally, implied!age gap, cursing, friends to lovers, fem!reader/afab!reader, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,797 muahaha

“I don’t need a goddamn babysitter,” you murmur as Logan thumbs through the controls of the X-Jet. “Could’ve done this by myself.” 

Logan scoffs. “I’m not your babysitter, princess.” You roll your eyes at the nickname Logan has specially reserved just for you. “Charles said we’d be safer going together. He knows you can handle yourself.”

The X-Jet cruises effortlessly through the clouds. The air is still today. Calm. You and Logan are on your way to get some sort of flower that Charles claims to have extensive healing properties. It’s an easy mission. No fighting. No violence. You’re unlikely to have to use your powers at all. And yet, you’ve been paired with Logan. 

It wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t—admittedly—a little into him. Or rather, pining after him. There’s just something about the sarcasm that’s always thick in his voice; the way he squeezes himself into those thin beaters. How he’s always so self-assured, so thoroughly convinced he’s right. You just can’t help it. You want him. But he isn’t yours, and he probably never will be. He’s a little older—well, a lot, considering he’s been around forever. And you know it’s safer not to make attachments—not to fall in love.

Unfortunately, it’s a little too late for that. 

But having him here with you now, alone, with no buffers…it’s overwhelming. You can smell him—that mix of tobacco and pine and musk and him. He’s suddenly everywhere, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You watch as his long fingers press different buttons, his hands gripping the steering wheel, adjusting thrusters. You stare at those fingers for far too long, your thoughts drifting to what else he can do with them. You think about him curling them deep inside you, stretching you open and—

“Everything okay?” You snap your head to face Logan, swallowing harshly as his voice pulls you back to reality. 

You force a smile, nodding. “Yep!” You say, overcompensating just a bit. “All good,” you lie. You close your eyes, trying to push thoughts of Logan out of your head, denying the heat growing between your legs.

“Good, because we’re almost there,” Logan says, the X-Jet descending carefully. You look out the window to see the trees below. There’s a lake in the distance, but that’s it. No civilization, no houses—no one. It’s empty, peaceful. 

“We’re really in the middle of nowhere, huh?” You say, glancing at Logan. 

His eyes meet yours and he smiles. Warmth blooms in your heart at the sight. “My kind of place,” he says back. The X-Jet descends further as you approach a clear spread of grass to land on just ahead. 

This is, in fact, not your kind of place. The humidity creeps up your back and settles under your skin. The forest is overgrown and impossible to navigate. You let Logan slice through the plant life with his claws, swiping back and forth whenever something gets in your way.

You haven’t been walking for long, but you’re already done. Perhaps Charles was right; a partner is not the worst idea on a mission like this. 

You can see the flower just ahead—yellow petals and a long, green, viny stem. It glows brightly even under the dense forest canopy. “Semper in tenebris lux,” Charles had said; there is always light in darkness. And he was right. The flower illuminates everything in its path. Next to it, you can see a pretty, lavender-colored flower. You stop in your tracks, letting Logan wander ahead as you crouch down to stroke the purple petals. 

“Charles didn’t say anything about not taking other flowers too, right?” You call out, watching as Logan swipes carefully at the stem of the yellow flower. He holds the dainty stem in his large hands as he walks back over to you. 

“No, he didn’t. But you should be careful. It could be poisonous or—”

You ignore Logan, picking the flower anyway. You hold it up to your nose and breathe in. It’s sweet and fragrant. You twist the stem and realize the flower is sticky with sap and pollen. Your twist shakes some of the pollen up, and it lands all over your face. 

“Shit,” you mutter, wiping it away. A gust of wind sweeps through the forest, knocking the flower out of your hand and spreading more of its pollen in the air. You can feel it in your nostrils, getting caught in your throat.

Logan furrows his brows as the pollen falls to the ground. “What the fuck did you do?”

You roll your eyes. “All I did was pick a flower!” You lift your hands, feigning innocence. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You stand up, glancing once at the yellow flower in Logan’s hands and then back at Logan. “It’s pretty.”

He parts his lips, his stare focused on you. “Yeah, it is.” There’s something else in that stare, in those words. Like maybe he isn’t only talking about the flower. You shove those thoughts down as you turn around and walk back to the jet.

Your steps are suddenly very heavy. You scratch at your shoulder. Heat blooms in your chest, your stomach, across your face. You’re irritated and overheated and itchy. Your breath grows heavier and rougher with every step. 

Logan notices immediately. He stops, grabbing your arm. You can’t control the way you lean into his touch, nor the way you’re craving more. “Hey,” he soothes, eyes searching your face. “Are you okay?” There’s a hint of panic in his voice. 

You swallow harshly, nodding. Your throat feels thick, your skin tight and oppressive. “’M’fine,” you mumble. 

“Quit lying. I can tell something’s wrong,” Logan demands. You open your mouth to persuade him otherwise, but he doesn’t give you the chance, his grip tightening around your arm. “Your skin is on fucking fire, princess. What did you do?” He cocks his head, sniffing as he furrows his brows. His voice is darker now, slower as his eyes widen. “What the fuck did you do?”

You take in a sharp breath. And that’s when you feel it, the ache between your thighs, the slick arousal soaking through your panties. The realization smacks you in the face. For a moment, you’re clear-headed, but still terrified. The pollen. That goddamn, fucking pollen. “Logan, look, I think that purple flower had some—"

He cuts you off as he yanks your arm, tugging you towards the ship. “We need to get you back to the jet, okay?”

“Oh, I am so fucked,” you cry. You know you only have a few seconds left before the effects really kick in. “L-Logan,” you stutter, almost moaning as your core burns stronger with need. “T-the pollen was everywhere. What if you got some too?” 

He ignores you, handing you the yellow flower you came here for in the first place. He sweeps one hand under your legs and keeps the other at your back as he lifts you in his arms—bridal style. You can feel his heart beating in his chest. You lean into him again, searching for relief. Wetness pools between your legs. You have never felt this needy before. Your desire hurts, burns, scorches you. You rut your hips, clenching down around nothing. 

“S-stop doing that,” Logan spits, restrained and quiet. 

“C-can’t,” you whine. “It hurts, Logan. It hurts so fucking bad. How come you aren’t like this too?”

He pulls you tighter to his chest. “I feel a little something, but that might just…”

You tilt your head up to look at him. He works his jaw, that perfect jaw. You want to bite it, to bury your face in the crook of his neck. “Might just be what?” You ask, tentatively brushing your lips against the hollow of his throat. 

“Nothing, just—fuck,” he groans as you press soft, open-mouthed kisses all around his neck now. “Don’t do that, princess. You don’t want this.”

“But I do, Logan,” you beg. The ramp to the jet lowers as you and Logan approach. “N-need you.” You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing him in. “Need y-you all the time.” The confession slips easily from your lips. 

Logan’s eyes widen as he walks up the ramp and into the ship. It lifts and seals shut behind him. “You don’t mean that, sweetheart. Let’s just get you back to the mansion as quickly as possible, yeah?”

He places you down on the seat next to him, taking the flower from your hands and putting it in the jar Charles had given you. The leather cold at your back almost feels good, almost relieving—until you realize Logan is no longer holding you, touching you. You reach out towards him, grabbing his arms, pulling him back in. “Don’t go,” you plead, nails digging into his biceps. Your body is on fire. Everything is unbearably painful. “Please,” you whimper. “Need you so fucking bad, just you.” 

“Fuck,” Logan curses. “I am not taking advantage of you. I am not doing this.” He stands, freeing himself from your grasp and walking over to the pilot’s chair. “I’m getting you back to the mansion and we’re going to fix this, okay?”

But that’s not good enough for you. You stand up and walk over to Logan. Your steps are shaky, your legs trembling. Your chest heaves, your heart beating rapidly. You climb into Logan’s lap, straddling him, one leg on either side. “Logan, I can’t fucking wait,” you cry, grinding down onto his lap. The pressure feels delicious.  He grabs your hips, stilling you, forcing you in place. And that’s when you feel it: his erection, hard underneath your core. “This isn’t you. You don’t really want this, don’t really want m—”

“It is me,” you protest, squirming against his hold. “Logan, I’ve wanted you for months. I-I was thinking about you t-touching me the whole way here.” You remember the way his fingers dexterously pushed all the right buttons. Need courses through you like a river, and as Logan’s hold on your hips softens, you grind down into his lap, against his erection. “S-so good,” you cry out. 

His hands are still on your hips, but now he’s guiding you, rocking you against his cock. “J-just this though, okay?” 

You hum, pressing your forehead to his, rolling your hips faster. The relief is like heaven. His arms wrap around your back, his fingers trailing up and down soothingly. Logan ruts into you, his erection straining against his jeans. You can feel yourself getting closer, but the pain, the need, it’s all still the same. 

“Logan, it’s not gonna be enough,” you whisper, his lips ghosting yours. “N-need more. Hurts so bad.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, like he’s scared to truly touch you. But he wants to consume your pain, to take it away, to feel it for you. You can see it written across his face, in the way his cock throbs against your swollen clit, how he snaps his hips into yours. 

“I know, princess,” he coos, his hands like fire on your back. Your walls contract around nothing, begging for something to hold onto, to feel something sink deep inside. “Gonna take care of you.” He kisses you again, with more vigor this time, more passion. “I’ve got you, darlin’.”

You moan into his mouth. His composure is slipping, disintegrating with every roll, every rock of your hips against his. His cock notches against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure up the base of your spine. He hikes your shirt up, the cold air hitting your overheated skin. “F-feels good,” you stammer. You’re almost there, almost hitting that peak. “S-so close.”

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes. “Let go for me, know you can do it.” 

You moan his name, your orgasm crashing into you like a crescendo. You know you’re soaking through your clothes, and probably onto Logan’s too. He’s still rutting against you, giving you more. He knows it’s not going to be enough, and he’s right. Need builds back up just as quickly as you found your release. 

 “Lo…” you trail off, looking up at him under lust-filled eyes. You swallow harshly, squirming in his lap helplessly. “G-gotta have you.” 

He presses his forehead to yours. He works his jaw, parting his lips. “Y-you meant it when you said you wanted me before this?” But he already knows the answer. He knows you wouldn’t lie to him about that, not even now. 

“Yes,” you whine, pulling him closer. He tugs your shirt all the way over your head and picks you up, hands firmly gripping your ass. “Still gonna want you after this, too.”

He curses under his breath as he places you down in the pilot’s chair. He’s frenzied and frantic as he hooks his thumbs into your pants and panties, yanking them down your legs and casting them to the side. 

He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands, his thumbs brushing soft circles into your inner thighs. He’s kneeling, looking up at you. Your breath catches in your throat as his face settles between your legs. 

“Could smell you before, pretty girl,” he husks, his breath fanning over your clit. “Wanted this so fucking bad.” He doesn’t keep you waiting, licking a long stripe through your folds and up to your clit. “Knew you’d taste perfect. Pretty fucking pussy.” 

You throw your head back as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking harshly. He slips one hand across your back, keeping you close. His free hand climbs up your thigh, fingers exploring your folds as his tongue flits across your swollen bud. He spreads your arousal, prodding against your entrance before shoving two fingers deep inside you. “Logan!” You cry out, your walls clenching around him. He’s stretching you out, his fingers dragging inside you. He pulls out and plunges back in. He isn’t taking his time, isn’t teasing. He’s giving you what you need, pump after pump. 

You look down at him, his face buried in your cunt, consuming you, swallowing you whole like a starving man. He’s lost inside you, lapping at you with unwavering hunger and desire. His tongue swirls around your clit, his teeth grazing ever so slightly. You moan his name again, and he hums against you, the vibrations of his bassy voice rocking through your body. He’s wrecking you, but it feels so goddamn good. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he goads you along. He’s adding a third finger now, and you suck him in. You’d take anything he gives you, anything at all. “Doing so good for me, taking it so well.” 

He sucks roughly, your walls clenching around him at the feeling. “Yeah?” He grunts, sucking again. “You like that? Feels good?” 

“Y-yes,” you stammer, stumbling over that one simple word. “S-so fucking good.” 

“I know, beautiful,” he groans, nipping at your clit in between his rough sucks. “Gonna make that hurt go away, okay?” His voice is like honey, sugar; it’s sweet, addictive. “You just gotta come for me again, can you do that?” His tongue strokes your clit, his fingers pumping faster now. 

You nod your head emphatically, pleasure surging as you near your peak. “Yeah, I-I can,” you huff. 

Logan smiles against your cunt between rough laps. “I know you can, sweetheart.” His fingers scissor inside you, deeper than before. He takes your clit between his lips again, sucking hard. 

And that’s all it takes—you’re screaming his name, coming undone, unraveling underneath him. The release is even better than the first, more full, more complete. Logan thrusts in and out a few more times before slowly pulling his fingers from your cunt. He licks one more long stripe through your folds and looks up into your eyes. 

For a moment, the fire inside has been quenched. You feel clear, levelheaded. But it doesn’t last long. “Fuck,” you moan, your head hitting against the headrest of the chair. The fire is back, spreading across your stomach, your chest. “Logan,” you whimper. “I n-need more.”

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, taking you back up into his arms. He hoists you out of the seat, his hands finding your ass, squeezing softly. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you across the jet, setting you down on a storage container. 

You bring your hands up to his biceps. “Need you this time, Lo,” you choke, stroking up and down his arms as the heat builds painfully between your thighs. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, eyes searching yours. 

“Always wanted you, always sure,” you whisper, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Wanted you too,” he husks. “But I wanted it to be different, to—” You cut him off. “Just want you. It’s okay like this. I promise.” You grind against him, his erection still straining inside the denim of his jeans. 

He takes the hint, and quickly unbuckles his belt, casting the leather to the metal floor with a clunk. He’s unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, shoving them down his legs, and lining himself up with your entrance. You push your hips forward, giving him better access. His other hand pushes your bra above your breasts, exposing you completely to him. 

With one hand on his cock and one squeezing your tits gently, he thrusts himself into you. He’s so deep—down to the hilt—stretching you out and working you open. He groans, flicking your nipple with his thumb, his lips at the shell of your ear. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, sending a chill down your spine, quenching that fire inside. “So warm, so tight.” He pulls out and plunges back in again, filling you up. 

“Lo,” you whine. “More.”

“I know,” he growls, his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out with every thrust. “Gonna take care of you, pretty girl.” He squeezes your tits once more before sliding his hand down your body and slipping between where the two of you connect. His fingers find your clit, drawing rough circles around the bud. “That feel good, beautiful?” 

“Y-yes, Logan, so fucking good,” you cry out as he rocks into you. His other hand grips your hip tightly, holding you in place. You hope there’s a bruise there later—proof that he touched you, proof that he fucked into you like the world was ending. 

His cock rubs against your walls, your muscles contracting around him, sucking him in deeper. “Squeezing me so good, sweetheart,” he praises, his lips crashing down onto yours, swallowing your moans. He’s taking all of you, hard and fast. You can feel him twitching inside you, throbbing with the same need you feel pulsing through your veins. 

Logan kisses your jaw, and then just underneath, biting down on your pulse point. You arch your back, your chest meeting his. The contact is delicious, the friction a necessity. He thrusts into you faster now, doing his all to satiate your every need. He’s getting you there, pump after pump, hitting that sweet spot inside you every time. 

It’s working. You can feel yourself slipping again, melting. “Logan,” you hum, too fucked out to say anything other than his name. That beautiful name, like a song in the air, a gentle prayer, a holy ghost. He’s all you need—all you’ve ever needed. 

Your walls contract, squeezing him tightly. “Fuck,” he mutters. You know he’s close too. He strokes your clit, circling roughly. “Come on, pretty girl. You can do it, let me get you there again.” 

“Lo,” you cry, your eyes fluttering open and shut as he fucks into you, rutting his hips, plunging deeper still. It’s all too much. You can feel the pleasure drumming inside you, coming to a head. 

Logan loosens his grip on your hip and slides his hand behind your back, pulling you into his chest. You rest your forehead against his. “Come on my cock, princess, let go.” And you do.��You’d do anything for him. You moan as your orgasm tears through you. It’s all blinding white heat, liquid smooth, pleasure wracking your body. 

Logan curses under his breath, close behind. He pulses inside you once, and then he’s coming undone. Your arms wrap around his back, keeping him close, letting him know it’s okay to finish inside. He fills you up, whispering praises in your ear as you both come down from your high. Such a good fucking girl. Did so good for me. So fucking good. Perfect little pussy.

He’s still inside you, pumping slowly as you ride out your orgasm. His fingers let go of your clit, his hands running up your back and tugging you closer to him. He slowly pulls out, keeping you tight against his chest. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. You take a deep breath, waiting for the heat to build again, waiting for that need to surge every cell of your being. But there’s nothing. Your nerves are suddenly quiet—silent. 

“I-I think it’s over,” you stutter, still nervous that maybe it’s not. He keeps you there, holding you tightly, ready to start again if necessary. 

After a few minutes, you let yourself relax. It’s not coming back. It’s over. 

Logan presses a chaste kiss to the side of your head. “I’ve still got you. Not going anywhere.” Your heart rate has finally slowed down. The heat is gone. You feel comfortable in your skin again. You take a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into Logan’s chest. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, princess,” Logan reassures, his voice gentle and soft. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You nod against him, but you still feel a sting in your heart. You need to make him know that you meant what you said—need him to know exactly how you feel. You swallow nervously, ready to bite the bullet. 

“Logan,” you breathe. “I-I meant everything I said. It wasn’t just the pollen.” You pull yourself from his chest, looking up at him. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted you…” you trail off. “S-still need you now. Nothing’s changed.” 

He smiles down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know, darlin’,” he husks. “I wanted you before, and I still do, too.” 

“I know you wanted it to be different. I know it wasn’t—” But he cuts you off, his lips capturing yours, quieting your anxious rambles. “We’ll have other chances. Other times to do it the way I want.” He smirks, running his hands up and down your back. 

Other chances. Other times. More. More. More. “Yeah?” You ask. 

“Yeah, princess.”

tags: @wolviesgirl @dojacatswink @dilf420 @spiderset @pleasantlycrazyworld @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @y-ns-things

[eufezco]

LIKE THE FIRST TIME

it has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him.

logan x afab!reader (smut, angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter

it was a shitty place where you were living with logan. it was always dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it, it was noisy, because despite being in the middle of nowhere, the train tracks were very close to it, and it was the least home-like thing in the world. both of you were working your asses off to get out of there as soon as possible.

in your free time, you helped caliban with the housework and took care of old charles xavier while logan spent the whole day out, driving and having to deal with one of the things he hated most in the world, people.

he always came home late, tired, with his whole body aching. some nights you would fall asleep while waiting for him and even though logan asked you to do it, to not to wait up for him, most times you stayed up so just to make sure he arrived safely. you waited for him curled up in bed. when he was a minute late, your heart began to beat faster and you imagined the worst. but then he would come into the room, dragging his feet and with his head bowed down.

—how was your day?

logan grunted as he sat at the foot of your bed, you felt how the mattress sagged with his weight.

—did something happen?

you crawled to him and rested your chin on his shoulder. he let out a sigh of relief when your arms wrapped around his body and you hugged him from the back.

—just a tired fuckin' day, that's all.

you hummed, understanding. —well, now you are home so you can finally relax. would you like something to eat?

logan shook his head as he let it fall back and rest on your shoulder. he just wanted to stay like that a little longer with his body between your legs and his eyes closed. he placed one of his hands over yours resting on his stomach as you hugged him. one of his big hands was enough to cover both of yours.

—i've missed you, lo. i always miss you when you are away.

you placed a kiss on his neck. the first thing he did when he entered the house was to get rid of his shirt, keeping only the white tank top he was wearing underneath. his broad shoulders were at your disposal, his muscular arms and warm skin as well.

logan swallowed when he felt your lips on his neck. you noticed so you placed another kiss there.

—i miss you too. every second i spend away from you, i miss you.

you hummed, your heart gave a small jump of joy. while your love language was words of affirmation and you were always reminding him how much he was loved by you, logan was more of an act of service man. removing makeup from your face when you got home and were too tired to do it yourself, washing your hair and massaging your head when you showered, and leaving your coffee ready when he went to work earlier than you. hearing those words come out of logan's mouth meant the whole world.

your hands traveled down his abdomen until they reached the hem of his tshirt and easily slipped under the fabric. you felt his perfect abs under your fingertips and the hairs growing below his belly button as well. he took a deep breath, it had been so long since the last time he had allowed you to touch him like that.

you took your hands out of his tshirt and moved one of them to his neck to make logan turn his head resting on your shoulder and look at you. you connected your lips with his, his bushy beard pricked your face as you kissed him, but you didn't mind, it had been so long since you and logan had kissed so passionately that you could take it.

your tongue slipped past his lips and logan moaned, allowing his to go inside your mouth as well. you moved on the bed, putting one leg on each side of logan's body and sitting on his lap, all this without stopping kissing for a second. his hands now rested on your lower back, yours were on the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

his cock got rock hard the moment you sat on his thighs and you started to roll your hips timidly against his crotch. you felt his growing bulge rubbing against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. god, how bad you needed to feel him.

your hands slid down from his neck, caressing his entire torso, until they reached again the hem of his tshirt. you tried to pull the white tank top over his head, but logan stopped you. his lips parted from yours and he shook his head.

—it's okay. i want you, logan. i promise everything is fine.

you held his cheeks so he would look you in the eyes.

he was getting old, there was nothing left of the young and charming boy you met at charles' academy. his body had changed, his hair and beard were becoming whiter every day, and you were still young and full of light while he was fading away. yet you still loved and desired him, like the first day you craved his body. you found him just as hot, even hotter now, but you didn't want to force him to do something he wasn't going to enjoy.

you kissed him so he could stop worrying. —let me take care of you. i want you, lo, i need to feel you —.you mumbled against his lips. he let out a grunt when he felt you pressing your pussy harder on his bulge.

your hands traveled the same path down his chest one more time until you reached the edge of his tshirt again. you expected him to take your hands off him again but he not only allowed you to keep going but he also lifted his arms so you could pull the white tank top over his head.

—fuck —. you let out in a mix of moan and gasp. his body was breathtaking. your hands were quickly attached to his chest, hairy, hard under your touch, warm, with each of its muscles perfectly defined. abs, pecs, perfect broad and muscular shoulders, and wide strong arms, with veins running from his shoulder down his arms to the back of his hands. you ran your fingers along the thick scars that marked his body. —fuck, you're so hot.

with his hands on your back, logan gently pushed you to keep rubbing yourself against him and you moaned, he was harder if possible and you were so wet that you knew that your panties would be completely soaked. you kissed the crook of his neck while his fists clenched, clutching at the tshirt of his that you were wearing as your pajamas. logan fought against his instinct, against the animalistic way you were making him feel, but his grip became so tight that he ended up ripping the fabric.

—it was one of your favorite tshirts.

—don't care.

and logan kissed your lips as he ended up tearing the fabric completely and threw it on the floor. you grabbed the back of his head when his lips moved down your neck and collarbone. your nipples were already painfully hard when logan cupped one of your tits and wrapped his mouth around your sensitive bud.

all of a sudden you got up from his lap and he had to let your nipple go. he was worried about the way you had moved away from him, had he done something wrong?

now you were standing in the middle of the room, in front of him, only wearing your panties. your body was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever witnessed, with scars very similar to his, with all those things you hated about yourself. was that how you felt about him? if it had not been for the pain in his whole body he would have fallen off the bed on his knees in front of you.

he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes once you started swaying your hips from side to side while you slid your underwear down your legs. you laughed too, you felt stupid, but at least you had managed to make him smile. you two weren't the type to do those things, things were always more animalistic, more passionate, rougher. you walked towards him and leaned in to kiss him as your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.

—you're beautiful —. he whispered.

logan helped you to straddle him again. you held your body over his thanks to your knees on the bed. with one hand you grabbed his hard cock resting impatiently against his stomach. he gasped because of your firm grip and squeezed your hips when you lined it up against your aching entrance.

you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan. you never forgot how big he was, the thickness of his cock, the patch of hair on its base, and the veins running along his shaft, but you did forget about the way it stretched you open, about the sting that his dick going deeper inside you caused.

—careful —. logan mumbled against your lips.

you kept taking him, closing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip, hissing every time you took a centimeter more inside of you. you rested your forehead against his and whined when his cock finally bottomed you. —i need a moment.

logan nodded. one of your hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit while his hands lovingly caressed your back. it had been so long since you had sex. logan wouldn't let you touch him, he was disgusted by his own body and he was afraid that you would see him the way he saw himself. that's why that night you decided that you would make him feel so good that he would never doubt the way you felt about him or his body.

you started by slowly rolling your hips as your fingers worked on your clit. his jaw tightened while he felt your body moving with his whole cock inside. his big hands on your hips helped you to move, setting a pace and keeping you from going faster so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

—that's it, take your time —. he said. young logan wouldn't have given you a second to get used to it, he would have fucked you mercilessly and you would have loved every second of it. but now, his eyes were focused on where your bodies became one, enjoying how your pussy adjusted to his size thanks to your fingers rubbing your clit.

he moaned once you lifted your body just a little and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again. your cries and his moans mixed in your mouths. all his body jerked every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.

—you make me feel so good, logan. always have, fuck—. you purred in his ear. his hands, previously resting on your hips, slid all the way to your ass your hands and squeezed it. in those little details you could see how he was gaining confidence, which encouraged you to keep moving without changing your pace. it was slow, passionate, intense and intimate.

between moans and cries, you kept worshiping him, telling him how much you had missed feeling him inside you, how your fingers were no comparison to his cock, how you didn't want to share these moments with anyone other than him. there was no one like him. you didn't care about his scars, his moodiness, the gray of his hair, there would never be another one for you but logan, you did not want another one.

you were close, he could feel it in the way your walls were squeezing his cock and he knew he wouldn't last longer. logan wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you against his hard chest, and your fingers knotted into his hair. he groaned, your little jumps became irregular, your legs began to shake. logan hugged you tighter and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, getting a little choked cry from you.

—cum inside me, lo. fill me up, please, i need it. let me have it, please.

oh god, your words were driving him insane and after how well you had treated him, who was he to deny your wishes?

logan held your body down on his cock as he came, hugging you tighter against him. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin while your legs shook and your pussy clenched around him. it was too much. as he released himself inside you, his claws came out and trapped you between them and logan's body, you had no escape. he groaned when he felt the pain of the adamantium ripping the skin off his knuckles mixed with all the pleasure of cumming inside you.

—shit —. he immediately put the claws away when he realized. —i haven't hurt you, have i?

you shook your head, still coming down from your high. he exhaled with relief. once you had caught your breath, you straightened your back, still sitting on his lap and feeling his cock getting soft inside you. you brought his hands to the front.

—are you okay? that probably hurt —. you caressed his knuckles.

—felt too good to even think about it.

you smiled proudly and kissed him. when you broke away, he noticed the mark of his teeth on the skin of your shoulder. —'m so sorry, fuck.

—don't be. i wish you had bitten me harder.

he shook his head, keeping himself from laughing. —you're a freak.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

“The what?”

Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.

So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.

Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.

“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.

“Same,” Danny agrees.

“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.

The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.

“Bet.”

They look at Duke.

Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.

Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.

“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.

“What’d you see?”

Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.

“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.

“Need a hand?”

Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.

“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.

Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”

“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.

Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.

“Whoa-“

Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.

The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.

“Holy crap! Danny!”

“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”

“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.

“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.

The three brothers all pause and look at him.

“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.

“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.

Danny pulls it back out of reach.

“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.

“What do you-“

But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.

The batboys glance at each other.

“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”

“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”

“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.

“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”

“Cool. That’s fine.”

**

After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.

[katsukimybf]

bc all i think abt is college!katsuki

Katsuki Bakugou is the epitome of the type of friend where you don’t actually know if you are friends.

It started off slow and gradual; a head nod when you sat next to him in class for the first time. You didn’t think much of it at first—just Bakugou being Bakugou, cold and distant as can be. But then came the day the professor prompted the class to discuss the reading with the person next to you. Oh boy.

Distant caves would be jealous of him as he offered impressive silence. He sat there with his arms crossed, glaring at the textbook like it had personally offended him. You tried your best to speak about the text, feeling the weight of his weightless replies, and occasionally he’d grunt or nod, but the conversation resembled your middle school talent show performance. Awkward, yes, but not surprising for a college class.

Still, you found yourself sitting next to him every couple of days, the unspoken rules of college and assigned seating habits pulling you back into his orbit. You tried to be kind, offering small talk here and there, but Bakugou always brushed you off with a grunt or a glare. He was prickly, always on edge, and you figured that was just how he was.

You were like this too on most days. After having your fair share of college-creep experiences you laid off the whole talking to people bit. But there was this exception you made for Bakugou. Not an exception but a curiosity of some sorts. Hell, you also were never good at math but you were on edge to solve the missing variable that is Katsuki Bakugou. Seriously, what's his deal?

Maybe it was the way he didn’t care of how he seemed, it could be the mystery or maybe it was just the fact he looked like he was carved by Lysippos sitting by you at 9 a.m. lecture. Those thoughts were in the back of your mind… you even wonder if Bakugo is good at math? maybe then he could help.

But then there were these odd moments, moments where his usual gruffness gave way to something else. Like the day you mentioned how thirsty you were, sitting there in that old, sweltering classroom with no air conditioning. Bakugou rolled his eyes, muttered something about “are you always unprepared?” (he lent you a pen once before) but then wordlessly reached into his bag and handed you a water bottle.

“Thanks,” you say, trying to match his nonchalant demeanor. Trying to let it go.

But the gesture stuck with you. He didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t say anything more. He just went back to his notebook like nothing happened. Typical. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of slight butterflies in your stomach, even if you tried to brush them off as nothing.

Things continued in much the same way. Bakugou, still gruff and abrasive, but every now and then, something would slip through the cracks. A quiet moment of consideration, a begrudging act of kindness. He never let you get too close, but there was always that flicker of kindness. Of Bakugou. The real him, you think.

It was a rainy afternoon when you found yourself stranded at a bus stop with him. The two of you had just finished class, and the rain came out of nowhere, pouring down in quick splatters. You both stood under the narrow shelter that barely helped. Bakugou was glaring up like he was challenging the sky to a duel while his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

He didn’t acknowledge you at first. And you didn’t think he would.

“You’re gonna catch a cold standing out here,” he grumbled suddenly, his voice low and annoyed.

Before you could reply, he was already shrugging off his jacket and, without looking at you, shoved it in front of you. He urged you to take it but you blinked in surprise, not knowing how to react.

But then, you felt the weight of the jacket warm and heavy on your skin. The scent of him—something sharp and clean—lingered in the fabric.

“Bakugou, you don’t have to—”

“Shut up. I don’t need your thanks,” he muttered, not meeting your gaze. He chose to stare at the rain instead.

“Thank you.”

He rolled his eyes but from that moment, something shifted. The dynamic between you two wasn’t any less tense, and he still barked at you when you got on his nerves, but the hostility had softened, just a little. There was still sharpness in his words, but now mixed in with these brief, unexpected moments of kindness? (for Bakugou, normal for everyone else)

The day before your big exam, you sat next to him in class, anxiety buzzing in your stomach. “Are you ready for tomorrow?” you asked, peeking over at him.

“Yeah,” he grunted, eyes not leaving his textbook.

You turned back to your seat, mentally patting yourself on the back for initiating (yet another) pointless conversation. But then, after a pause, Bakugou spoke again.

“Wanna review the material after class?”

You blinked, a little caught off guard, but quickly nodded. “Sure.”

And so after class, he led the way to the library, not even waiting for you to catch up. He moved with purpose, his sharp eyes scanning the room for a quiet, secluded spot. When he finally sat down and pulled out his notes, you were surprised to see how meticulously organized everything was—color-coded, labeled, every detail in its place. So he probably is good at math? You were definitely getting somewhere.

He started drilling you with questions, breaking down complicated concepts with a precision you hadn’t expected. His intensity was relentless, but it pushed you to focus, to work harder, and slowly, your understanding of the material started to click into place.

Hours passed in a blur, and the sun began to set outside the windows. The two of you were still going over definitions when Bakugou glanced over at you. “You get it now?”

“Yeah,” you said, a small smile on your lips. “Thanks, Bakugou.”

“Good,” he muttered, turning back to his notes, but something about the way he said it felt less harsh than usual.

But all this time of him testing you made you want to test him. Probably because you suspected how sexy he’d look getting every question right…

You smirked, feeling a little bold. “Aw, not you caring if I understand the material.”

He shot you a glare and his face twitched like he was holding back a grin. “I don’t,” he snapped, though his tone lacked the usual bite.

“You just looked so damn scared earlier, it was pathetic.”

You faked a small gasp at that. He wanted to laugh.

“Aww, are you worried about me being sad?” you teased, leaning in a little closer. “It’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

“Shut up,” he growled, his face turning slightly red.

That’s not a no, you think. You laughed, the sound light in the quiet library, and for the first time, you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, barely there, but real.

Quaint and underneath all his surroundings lied Bakugou Katsuki. Almost as if he were labeled X in some math problem.

So yeah… he’s cold and mean and gruff, but… you know he has your back with exams… and when you’re cold, and when you say you're thirsty, and when you need something nice to look at. Definitely, Katsuki Bakugou is your friend…

That happens to have a massive crush on you.

(… and unashamedly, so do you.)

[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 II

Part I Part III Part IV

Thank you so much for the love for the first one! 💞 There are so many ways I can imagine how this story can go and it's hard to pick one or try merging all the ideas. Nonetheless, I hope this meets your expectations!

CW: Stalking, Breaking and entering, Violence(Being stabbed, beating up a thief), Blood, (Menstion of past) Kidnapping

You had officially moved into your apartment in Bludhaven

Everything has moved so quickly and now you can finally relax

You gave up connecting with your family, got kidnapped, died, came back to life and moved out

It may be a bit much to pick the farthest college from the manor but you’re clearly unwanted there

Your family has neglected you and didn't do anything when you were kidnapped, so you have every right to be as far away from them as possible

It was honestly quite lucky that you were already accepted into a college in Bludhaven during your senior year. If you had applied after your kidnapping, the chances of you getting in would have been low.

But you’re here now and can finally feel happy. Well, if you don't count some of the nightmares you get from when you “died”.

Sometimes you do wonder how you survived that gunshot. Were you not hit somewhere vital? But then, where was the hole?

A part of you was curious and wanted to replicate the injury but that would be painful. You surviving the gunshot also could have been a one-time thing

You never ended up going to the police or the hospital because what were they going to do? You don’t have any proof that it even happened because your injury is gone, the blood left at the abandoned building is likely dried up and doesn’t look fresh, and Bruce probably threw away the ransom letter. 

The only proof you have that it even happened is your memories and you telling your friends. But the police or doctors would just look at you and say “You look fine now, no need to look into the situation anymore.” 

But enough about that though, you’ve got a few more hours before it gets dark and you want to get to know about the area.

It is still the middle of summer so your college classes haven't started yet. You could have waited until class started to move but you wanted to be out before Alfred returned from his vacation.

Alfred was the closest thing to family in the manor. But he and Bruce have never felt like safe adults to share your problems with. 

He should be back from his vacation now, has he found out about your kidnapping or did Bruce cover it up? He probably did to avoid getting news out. You should probably look into how you can change your surname.

Just as you finish your thoughts about the manor, you use your laptop to find interesting places in the area before heading out the door with directions in a notebook

Bruce and the rest of the family may know where you are currently, but bringing you back home was the hard part. Alfred had to convince Bruce that if he wanted you back, he shouldn’t just barge in all of a sudden. 

You’ve been hurt by the family's actions and won't return without a fight. 

But even then, Bruce has to see you. The entire family needs to see you with their own eyes at least once.

With this in mind, the whole family decides to take a small road trip to Bludhaven. They’d find you and figure out the best way to approach you without scaring you off. 

It was almost sundown when the family got to Bludhaven. They change into their vigilante gear so it’d be easier to hide in the shadows

Tim loads up the tracker on your phone and leads the way. It seems the tracker you have isn't the best because once the family gets close to your apartment, your phone just says your laptop is nearby instead of its exact location. 

No problem though, Tim can easily hack into the computer system for the apartment and find which room is yours.

Once your room is found, the family takes a peek inside. You’re nowhere to be found, which is a little worrying.

The locks on your windows are broken as the family opens them and sneaks inside. Your living room and kitchen are littered with boxes but that’s it. They each take a look around to find you but come out empty-handed. If you were here, they may do exactly what Alfred discouraged and just take you home. However, because you aren’t home, the only other place you could be is outside. Where it’s dark out and you’re alone.

Worried for your safety, the family immediately goes on another search for your

Because you could be anywhere, the family decides to split up to find you

You look around as you walk back to your apartment, a few small bags of food and snacks in your hands. Because it’s getting dark, you do begin to pick up the pace. You’re so focused on not getting home that you don’t notice when a person peeks over at you from a rooftop.

You’re just about to pass a convenience store when someone runs out and knocks into you. The person curses as they quickly get up and reach for their bag of stolen goods. Filled with adrenaline, the thief takes out a knife and stabs you. They were aiming to kill you so there weren’t any witnesses but ended up putting the knife in your shoulder. As the thief makes a run for it, a certain vigilante quickly blocks their path

Nightwing goes full force on the thief. How dare they hurt his baby bird. He refuses to make the same mistake of leaving you alone and hurt.

Your heart is racing as you attempt to pull the knife out of your shoulder. Your eyelids feel weak but you refuse to fall asleep. Unlike before, you aren’t restrained and can still escape.

You pull the knife out and let it fall on the ground next to you. After a few breaths, you do your best to stand up. You take a small glance at Nightwing before quickly running back to your apartment. 

Once inside, you almost collapse on the floor but try to get your first aid kit.

Your bandaging may not be that good but the best but it’s enough for you to feel comfortable sleeping for the night

Nightwing sighs as he handcuffs the thief. He went a lot harder than he expected but how can you blame him? His family was in danger and he needed to do everything to make sure it doesn’t happen again

The vigilante turns to where you were but only finds a bloodied knife and the bags you left behind. He carefully picks up the bags and knife while he considers where you have gone.

Spotting a trail of blood, Nightwing quickly follows it, contacting the rest of the family as well

The family gathers at the same spot near your apartment and finds you sleeping in your bed. Wanting to help you, Nightwing comes up with an idea

You lay on your bed, waiting for sleep to consume you when a knock comes from your door. You try to ignore it but the knocking continues. The only thing that gets you up is the realization that the knocking is too loud to be from your door. Opening your eyes, you realize that someone is at your window. 

Getting up, you pick up your pepper spray as you slowly walk towards the window. You have your curtains closed so you try to peek past them to see who is there

Who you see is Nightwing and it gets you worried. Does he think you were involved with that other person? He must have seen that the thief stabbed you at least

Not wanting to make the vigilant wait, you open your window slightly. Only enough so you can hear what Nightwing has to say

Nightwing happily greets you and shows you the bag of items that you left behind when leaving the scene.

Surprised, you thank Nightwing and open the window. Making sure to not open the window more than necessary, just enough to collect the bags

Just as you reach for it, the vigilante points out your bandaged shoulder. He goes on to say the importance of properly handling injuries and offers to rebandage your arm.

It takes you a couple of moments before you agree to his help.

Like a big brother, he sits you down and redoes the bandages. Honestly, it makes you wish your actual big brothers would care for you in this way. Even though one of them is right in front of you

Once your shoulder has properly been bandaged, you thank Nightwing for his help. He offers to stay the night but you tell him that you’d be fine. Plus, doesn’t he still have to take care of Bludhaven

You make sure to close and lock your window once Nightwing leaves before going back to bed.  As sleep consumes you, your whole family watches from a distance. You didn’t seem to recognize Dick as Nightwing so it may be possible to get you to trust them before taking you home

[inkedinshadows]

Nights and Days

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺

Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.

After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.

They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.

“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.

“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”

He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.

They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”

“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”

“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”

She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”

Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”

If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”

Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.

“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.

Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.

“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”

Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”

Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”

Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”

“So?”

He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?

“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”

Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.

Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.

She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”

He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”

She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”

“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”

“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”

Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.

“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”

She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”

Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.

“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.

“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”

“It matters to me.”

His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.

“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.

“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”

This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”

And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.

“Sleep on the bed. With me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.

Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”

She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”

“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?

“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.

“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.

She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.

“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.

“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”

How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.

But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.

“You're cold, aren't you?”

She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prick.”

“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”

Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”

His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”

Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.

She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.

Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.

“Make room for me?”

His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.

“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.

Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.

“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”

His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”

“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.

Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.

“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.

Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.

“Can you turn over?”

Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.

“Why?”

“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.

But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.

Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.

Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”

Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.

And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.

His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.

She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.

What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.

“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”

Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.

Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”

“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.

Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.

“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”

She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”

Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.

She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.

Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.

She wanted him. She needed him.

Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.

She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”

And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.

“Because I want to see you first, princess.”

Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”

He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.

Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.

His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.

“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.

“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”

Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”

“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”

Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.

His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”

A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.

His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.

But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.

“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”

He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.

“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”

She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.

Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.

“Do you want to come, princess?”

Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.

But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.

She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”

He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”

The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.

Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”

For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.

Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”

She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.

“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”

With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.

He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.

Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”

His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.

A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.

She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.

They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.

Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”

“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”

Wrong words.

“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.

She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”

Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.

Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.

As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”

Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”

Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”

Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.

She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.

Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.

“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.

When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.

“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”

Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…

She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.

“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”

His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”

“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”

Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.

Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)

[inknopewetrust]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

Summary: In the volatile nature of tornado hunting, you crossed paths with Scott on more than one occasion–each time resulting in a piece of yourself being left behind with the man larger than the storms you chased. [Scott x Fem!Reader; Twisters] [wc: 15.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, pinv, oral (f receiving), angsty-romance, Scott is… a complicated asshole who reader can totally fix… right? Right!?

Quick Links: Masterlist

You weren’t sure where it ended or began, but you could feel it coming in your bones. Not the whirring of a drone or the rumbles of thunder—the fast, blistering speed of tires rolling toward the funnel that made your heart beat twice as fast as it did before.

It was tornado season after all… it never surprised you.

The skies of Oklahoma rose into a gloomy beige on a Friday afternoon. Heat lingered in the air, heavy and unyielding. It was dense outside of the small gas station that sat alongside the fork in the road.

Everyone could smell it: the anticipation of a storm. They broke earlier every year and this season appeared to be no different at first glance. The radios were filled with the familiar constant chatter, the computer screens you shared with Dexter in the lot were running the same radar’s the morning predicted.

Not everyday was as exciting as the next, however.

“Shit,” Dexter mumbled, running a hand over his eyes in frustration as the storms weren’t breaking that evening. His glasses perched on his fingers before he brought his hand back down to his computer.

It was just rain. In an era of record tornados, tonight would be quiet sans the few sparks of lightning and the thunder that followed.

“Nothin’” he flicked the laptop screen closed before him, knocking you on the shoulder as your own screen took all your attention.

Your eyes were entranced by the Doppler's movements. The back and forth of the projections coming and going in shades of green and yellow but no red. No purples or the darkest blues to send the lot of you running toward danger.

Dexter bumped you again with a focused effort.

“What?” You mumbled, clicking the refresh button on the radar’s program. Nothing changed.

“I think we’re done for the day.”

“It’s like six-thirty, Dex” you shrugged, turning to face him with a squint as the half-set sun was in your line of vision. “Somethin’ might pop up.”

“Omega says not,” he put a finger on his closed computer. “It dissipates before it can get out of bed.”

“Yeah,” you sighed as he did before. “Shit.”

Breathing in deeply, you could still smell it. Those storms were on the horizon and just waiting for the perfect moment to grow but you all have waited around these parts of Oklahoma begging for something that was not going to appear a hundred times.

Today was just one of those days.

You shut your own computer with the thud. Rolling your shoulders, Dexter clapped a hand on your back and chuckled at the prospect of another day without a tornado.

“Tomorrow’s chances are just as good,” he reassured.

“I know,” you nodded. The buzzing of Lily’s drone overhead swished by slowly as it came to land.

“Why don’t you go tell ‘em and I’ll clean up before we move out, hm? Get dinner and relax.”

Dexter didn’t allow the chance for you to argue back and made for the computers immediately. You groaned, standing up from the milk crate Boone scoured from the side of the road for “portable seating.” They were a bitch to your back and after sitting and watching the screen for what felt like hours, your body was screaming for help.

You stretched your arms high above your shoulders to rest them interlocked on your head and closed your eyes.

Maybe it was a sign. No storms, good sleep, and a hot meal from a wayside diner in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. It was comfort, it was home and it was a relief for an instant that the skies were tame. No one would die from nature tonight in the vicinity of your chasing—an adjustment from the last month.

So you envisioned in your closed eyes the peace the evening would bring. How the sheets of the motel’s bed would feel against your legs; the sound of air conditioning fanning and sending you into a deep slumber.

The imagination of an evening molded into scenes under your eyelids.

Like the thunder everyone wished to hear, you could practically feel the rumblings of his fingertips as you imagined them on your skin. A lingering hope of days gone by without seeing him and his team of assholes started to stir in your mind every time it had a second to not think of the weather.

You hated the way it made you feel.

Like a goddamn school girl who couldn’t control a crush but it was more than that. It wasn’t a fatal fantasy you’d imagined every time your paths crossed but one cemented in your memory to hold you off until the next time he caught you in the same place.

And you saw him in your idea of a decent night.

In the distance, Dani and Lily called your name from outside of the RV. You cracked an eye open to see the two of them waving, pointing toward the diner attached to the station.

Your arms fell, turning to Dexter who passed it off.

“Go,” he shook his head, “I’ll join you when I’m done.”

You’d be lying if the sound of food didn’t sound wonderful that very second. The day had been nothing but driving and sitting. Every bit of food was junk besides the apple Boone threw your way at noon. He had been the first one to run into the diner an hour before with Tyler hot on his tail.

They were gluttons for greasy homemade meals.

“Come on!” Dani yelled as she held open the door and you broke off from Dexter to join the two for dinner.

The diner was like any other hole in the wall establishment in middle America. Sparse hangings on the wall, chairs and booths made from cheap leather that had burns and slashes through them, and menus that haven’t been updated for twenty years.

They were the best places. They were what made the small towns in between the big ones staples. No one could pinpoint this town on a map but the second the tea is sipped and the spuds are downed, it’s something you couldn’t forget.

“We’re gonna shack up in Perry tonight,” Dani spoke with her mouth half full. “‘Bout a half hour from here.”

“Tyler alright with that?” Lily asked, glancing out the diner window. “I thought he wanted to stay ahead of them?”

Them.

You sipped on your iced tea casually.

“We will be heading in that direction anyway.”

“Ain’t there a lake down in Perry?” Lily inquired, racking her mind in hopes she could remember. Dani nodded and picked up her own glass.

“Mhm,” she hummed. “And I do plan on jumpin’ in it before we leave tomorrow.”

Lily smiled as she turned her attention to you. She wasn’t oblivious to your absence from the conversation. You were quiet and reserved. Maybe it was that time of the month or you had a bad day—but it was strange and she furrowed her brows, kicking at your foot with hers from under the table.

“Don’t got anything to say?” She asked, causing Dani to look over the glass at you.

“No,” you dismissed. “Just tired, that’s all.”

“I’ve got Advil if you need it,” Lily went to dig in her bag but you stopped her.

“No, no,” you shook your head. “Really. Just feels like a long day is all. Finding nothin' is frustrating and this heat..."

“I get you,” Dani scoffed and put her cup down. “This heat is awful. I think Boone’s music is starting to get to me.”

You laughed knowingly. “It’s better than listening to him scream into the camera for twenty minutes."

The two snickered at the thought. Anything was better than the sound of his screeching. You pushed around the remnants of your meal around your plate when the waitress came back to fill up the glasses, leaving the check. A chorus of 'thank you's' were followed by the bell ringing above the diner's rickety door.

"Oh Lord," Lily muttered and went back to looking out the window. She crossed her arms like a pouting child. Out the window, Boone was yelling inaudible jests at the white shirts making their way into the establishment.

"What?" You asked her, turning over in your seat to see the crew of Storm Par filing in one by one.

In their uniforms of slacks and white shirts, they gave their most polite smiles to the staff that ate out of the palms of their hands. Dani let out a groan of frustration. Rich men, educated men. Men.

"Just the fraternity, Doc," Dani replied as though your eyes couldn't see that. You shot her a judgmental scowl before glancing at the group again.

"I thought I told you not to call me that."

It was the PhD in physics that earned you the affectionate, but infuriating title.

"Eh," Dani popped a piece of ice between her teeth. "You ain't like them though. They're all assholes and you're only an asshole when we can't get the signal to work and you wanna watch Love Island."

You laughed, chucking your napkin across the table which she dodged gracefully.

"Don't act like you're not obsessed with it too," Dani narrowed her eyes in faux offense.

The check at the end of the table blew in the wind generated by a few of Storm Par's team walking past. None of them spared a glance in the direction of the three of you. Out of spite or hatred, you wouldn't know but it was always the same way with most of them. It wasn't unwarranted, however. Your squad from Arkansas were known to give them as much grief as they gave you all.

You reached out to slap the check back down on the table. A glance up toward the retreating Storm Par members told you that their leaders hadn't joined the bunch at the table. You hadn't seen him enter the diner when you looked before.

But you knew the second the bell rang above the door again that it was him and likely Javi beside him. You could feel it in the air just as you did the storms. Everything shifted. The pace of your heart, the rigidness of your back, and you had done all you could in your power to keep it as quiet as possible.

You painted yourself a fake in front of the friends you adored because of Scott. He didn't ask you to, yet there was nothing more solid than agreeing to never speak of what you'd do for a second alone with him.

And you weren't sure what they'd say if they knew you were sleeping with the enemy.

With the check in your hands, you grabbed your bag from the seat and dismissed Lily and Dani's movements to split the check.

"I've got this one," you assured them. "My treat."

Lily protested and continued to shuffle through her bag. "At least lemme get the tip. How much?" Her wallet was filled with receipts and loose change.

"No," you shook your head. "Go on to the truck and I'll pay and we can head out."

Dani crunched the ice loudly. "You sure?"

"Positive," you nodded, giving them both a smile that could have read tense. You didn't mean it to be but it did. "Go on," you tipped your head. “Dex didn’t eat so I’ll order and run out when it’s ready.”

Dani eyed you as Lily put away her wallet. "I don't want to leave you alone with them in here," she knocked her head in the direction of Scott and Javi who settled along the lunch counter beside the register.

Dani watched them carefully whenever it was only the three of you. She trusted the men on your team like brothers but the others, Storm Par or any of the other groups that followed in the same direction, she held at a distance. Not only had they been somewhat competitors in the field, they were jerks and Dani could not help but be repulsed by it.

Scott looked in the direction of the small booth you all sat in, making contact with Dani's harsh stare. His face was blank—as Dani had come to realize was its factory setting. He was stoic, a wooden board of a man who was a head taller than his companion even as they sat. Dani always thought he looked miserable.

In her eyes, he was generically handsome with dimples on the sides of his cheeks. She saw other storm chasers give him eyes but he never entertained it. He was boring, a dud.

Not one person could make that man crack a smile or have an ounce of joy weep from him—but she supposed it was perfect for the work they conducted.

"I can handle myself, Dani–besides, there are other people in here."

She shook her head, souring her face. "You know I don't like 'em."

"Neither do I," you laughed. Liar. "I got this. It’s okay."

Dani trusted your word and exited the diner with Lily while you made your way to the register.

Scott had taken his baseball cap off his head, sliding it into the back pocket of his pants and pushing his sunglasses into his hair. Javi made niceties with the same waitress that had assisted you upon your approach. You saddled up to lean on the counter in the empty space between Scott and the register that broke apart the counter from the other patrons. It wasn't crowded as a restaurant in the middle of a city would be. It was filed with locals that made it feel welcoming.

"I'll be with you in one second, ma'am," the woman who served, in a name-tag labeled 'Kathy', called over to you as she jotted down Javi's order.

You took the bag from your shoulder to place it on the counter in front of you. The base of it brushed Scott's shoulder, nudging him purposefully.

"Sorry," you said quietly as Javi finished up beside him. Scott looked over at you–his stormy blues baring into you and sending you into a spiral of blind faith.

“Not out wrangling tornados tonight?” He questioned in a condescending tone. His brow quirked in a challenge: play along. You could never be civil in public.

“Maybe if you were good at reading radar you’d know that already.”

He scoffed. “Wh—“

“And for you sir?” Kathy, the waitress, cut him off with a tap of her pen. Javi stifled a laugh as Scott faced her with a half-baked expression of annoyance. You turned to thumbing through your bag for your wallet.

“Ah,” Scott stuttered as he looked over the menu. “A coffee—“

“Cream or Sugar?” Kathy drawled. She must have been in her sixties but she was giving Scott the best impression of a flirt at the moment.

“Black, please.”

“Of course, honey.”

Javi turned his head away from Scott to chuckle like a little boy. You smiled to yourself as the contents of your bag were suddenly so very interesting.

“And a… turkey sandwich with fries.”

Kathy gave Scott a cheeky, wide smile with painted red lips. The thinning drugstore paint was wearing thin beyond the lining and her hay bale, yellow as corn hair was doing nothing for her.

“That’ll be right up for you boys, okay?” She gave them a wink and tore the order from her pad. “Don’t forget to order somethin’ sweet before you go—on the house.”

Kathy walked away with a sway of her hips which only worsened Javi’s laughter. The laughs spilled from his mouth without remorse as his friend tried to not turn an ugly shade of red.

“Holy,” Javi dragged out the syllables in exasperation. “You got yourself a cougar, Scott!”

You slipped your wallet to the side of your bag and looked upright waiting for her return.

“I didn’t know Mr. Storm Par had it in him,” you said, which drove Javi even deeper in laughter. Scott sighed heavily, shaking his head in disbelief. “She’ll give a napkin with a lipstick kiss… just watch.”

“Ooh man,” Javi crooned. “I ain’t missin’ that!” He got up from his stool.

“See you out there,” Javi said your name kindly—a rarity in these parts. He surely didn’t know about you and Scott but he treated you decently all the same.

He rushed off to the small hallway labeled ‘bathroom’. Small mercies for a second alone.

“Did you have to say that?” Scott commented the moment Javi was out of an earshot. He turned back to look at you so you turned to look at him with your hip digging into the counter. His legs spread wide as if to accommodate you.

“It was too good not to,” you admitted with a grin. “The old ladies love you.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, gazing at your face as his eyes darted to take you in. They trailed from your eyes to lips to chin to chest to… everywhere.

“It’s been a minute.”

“Two weeks,” you agreed.

“You been counting?”

“No,” you said quickly. “I just—“

“I was joking,” he clarified with a sly, cunning smirk.

“Ha,” you panned. “You should think about going into another career after this. I hear they’re looking for comedians.”

“Maybe I will,” he suggested. “I can mention the skeleton that tried to get with me in a diner. Though,” he thought on it, “her lipstick might find me in nightmares so probably not.”

You laughed and he smiled—also a rarity in these parts.

“Where are you off to?” He asked.

“Perry for the night. Headin’ in that direction afterwards.”

Scott hummed, tapping one of his hands on the counter as the other rested on his knee. Your eyes moved down his body in the same way he did yours.

“You?” You asked him.

“I think we’ll be makin’ our way there too.”

“Hm,” you thrummed. Kathy caught your vision as she gathered Javi’s glass and Scott’s mug in her hands. “Then I should be expecting you?”

Scott nodded his head. “Motel?”

“Right off the highway. Easy on and off.”

Scott made a noise of agreement. Kathy placed their beverages in front of them with a sweet smile. Scott glanced at the mug but returned his attention to you which she frowned at—you found it amusing. There couldn’t have been many attractive men waltzing through the diner on a weekly basis. Scott was a treat.

“Anything I can get you, hun?”

Scott shook his head. Kathy held out her hand for you to hand over the check. She wasn’t as wordy with you.

You glanced over his shoulder to the table of his crew in the back who were minding their own business. Javi had to return and put the window, your team of misfits were packing up the vehicles.

You took a chance and lifted a hand to his shirt’s collar. Taking the fabric between your fingertips, you putzed as he looked at you with a gleam in his eyes that made your stomach do summersaults.

It’s the kind of look that made your heart sink when he was so rude on the road.

“Text me when you get there, okay?” You asked him. You adjusted his collar before dropping your hand at the sight of Javi leaving the restroom.

Scott caught your eyes change and turned back around in his seat.

Kathy laid the receipt for you to sign on the counter with a bang.

“Sign, please.”

You were quick to sign and exit the space before Javi could even sit down, forgetting Dexter's order. Kathy took the receipt and while stapling it to the order, she tipped her head in the direction of you.

“She’s pretty,” was all Kathy said and left as Javi returned.

“Did she give you her number?” Javi prompted Scott who passed a confused face to his friend.

“What?”

“The waitress,” Javi chuckled. “You get ‘er number or what?”

Scott closed his eyes and swallowed the nerves that built rapidly. He thought Javi was talking about you. He may have been an ace at MIT and a dependable guy on the battlefield, but Scott nearly jumped out of the diner at the thought of Javi or anyone else finding out about his escapades with you.

It was a good secret. A great one, if he let himself think about it too long. But he’d be damned to throw everything away for the sake of a lay in the middle of Oklahoma.

And if he told himself that enough, he’d fathomed he would start believing it.

The motel was what you had dreamed about.

Soft sheets, working air conditioning, and a lovely continental breakfast in the mornings with boxes of cereal and packaged muffins. It wasn’t a five-star resort but they did the job. It was perfectly imperfect for what you were used to on the daily.

It was so much better than the floor of the RV and so unusual for the types of places Dani and Lily often chose.

When you arrived at the motel, Scott was receiving a napkin with a kiss and a number on it that went straight in the trash. Javi kept rolling with laughter and for the time being, it was something he would not live down.

But both of your minds were preoccupied with what would hold true as the sun finally set on that day.

Just like the storms, you weren’t sure where this ended or it began. You had established a routine without realizing it was happening and this game of chances was slowly evolving into a feeling difficult to hold on to.

Maybe it was everything in between the nights that made it more difficult than it needed to be.

You ached for them nonetheless.

The jolt of anticipation hit you about an hour after arriving. Showered and clean, you sat around while the news played lifelessly in the background waiting for your phone to ding but it never did. It sat there mocking you every minute that passed.

Seconds turned into minutes that turned into hours that turned into two.

You half thought about going to bed before a knock sounded at your door. Neglecting to view the visitor through the peephole, you were taken aback by the entrance.

Scott made quick work of pushing you backwards and shutting the door closed with a thud. A backpack landed in the space between the door and chair. His hands were on you immediately, immodestly cupping your face and the back of your head with a force as he kissed you—hard.

You wrapped your arms around his forearms in support of your uneasy feet. A thrill ran down your spine at the feel of his hands on you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled between frantic kisses that took your breath away. “They,” kiss, “wouldn’t,” kiss, “stop fucking talking.”

You ran your hands down his forearms gently. “It’s okay,” you reassured him. Ignoring your doubts would manifest itself another day.

Scott nodded, his nose knocking yours before leaning back in and kissing you slowly. His mouth captured your lips softly, gently as if there was no worry of time at all. His hands trailed themselves along the sides of your neck, to your shoulders, letting yours fall from his arms in the process.

You tilted your head upwards at an angle to open up to him. His mouth moved unhurried as the sound of your heart rushed to your ears.

He broke the kiss at the feel of your hands inching toward the buckle of his jeans.

“Woah,” he chuckled lowly but didn’t pull away and didn’t tell you no. “I don’t think my old lady would appreciate you havin’ your hands all over me.”

He let you lift the tails of his dress shirt out of his pants. At a quick pace you undid the buttons.

“She was tellin’ me all about this great peach pie,” Scott kept on and on as he peppered kisses on your face. “And then,” he whispered and shrugged off his shirt. “Then she left me this nice farewell note with a kiss on it.”

Your hands stilled on his abdomen. Head pulling away rapidly with glittering amusement in your eyes, you scoffed.

“No shit… really?”

“Oh yes, really,” Scott confirmed. He stepped away from you and stripped himself of the undershirt he had on. He moved over to the bed to work on his shoes.

“Can’t go to that diner again I gather.”

Scott smiled which made his dimples stand out. He looked tired but present, and that was all you could ask for at that moment.

“Not unless I want to be scorned for never callin’ her back.”

“Eh,” you picked up the remote on the bedside table and turned up the sound. “Give it ten years.”

Scott looked over his shoulder at you as a boot dropped on the floor.

“That’s brutal.”

“Well,” you said, dropping onto the duvet. “What can I say?”

You crawled over to him and got on your knees behind him. Scott leaned his head backwards against your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. You could smell the earth in his hair. The darkness of it couldn’t shield the way a day's work remained.

Underneath your fingertips his shoulders eased up. He relaxed in your touch.

“I was counting,” you admitted. The days between.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Me too.”

You kept one hand wrapped around his shoulders but moved the other to turn his face to the side. You planted a light kiss on his cheek, resting your forehead on the spot after. You savored the small, delicate moments that were few and far on the road.

Scott patted your arm when the quiet became too much.

“Lay down,” he instructed.

You untangled yourself from him and fell backwards on the bed. Splayed on the mattress with your knees bent, he slipped his socks off and turned around with one leg perched on the bed and the other on the floor. Scott’s hand traced the lines on your bent knees formed by the lighting of the room. He watched you adjust your body for comfort in his observance.

He’d be a fool to say you weren’t igniting a fire in him.

There were nights where he’d find you angry at him, the fuck that followed heated and he’d mark you with bruising kisses to remind you of it. There were some hurried and frantic—usually following a close encounter by either of you but the ones where it was slow… they were rare.

And looked down at you with adoration he couldn’t express. His eyes were telling yet he never said words that reaffirmed he cared for you more than he looked forward to your next meeting or that he thought about you—in the shower or in passing, Scott never clarified.

Scott pushed open your legs to accommodate him. He took in the oversized tourist tee that helped cover the pair of sleep shorts of his next conquest. Without hesitation, he grabbed at the waistband of the shorts and pulled them down your legs quickly.

He ticked at you at the sight of you bare before him.

“Were you expecting someone?” He chastised jokingly. “That’s a little presumptuous.”

“Maybe,” you cooed. He grasped you by the back of your knees and pulled you down the bed before getting on his own.

“There’s always a some guy followin’ us around in these parts. Sometimes I’ll let him in.”

“Oh?” His breath was hot on your thigh. A kiss laid as he maneuvered himself to your center and you tossed your head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Mhm,” you hummed. You bit your lip to fight a smile when his familiar lips kissed at the crux of your leg and groin.

“Handsome with this cute smile no one ever sees.”

You felt your breath stagger as he moved to the most wanton part of you and licked a line through you. His eyes watched you intently; the slow rise and fall of your chest, the way your hands begged for something to grasp on. His nose bumped your clit as he got comfortable with a rhythm. Scott savored the way his tongue gathered your wetness, pushing against your plush walls.

You were trying so hard to be quiet. The walls of hotels were thin—you weren’t an idiot. It was a miracle that the man you fucked wasn’t a talker most of the time.

Scott’s tongue was warm against you. Lapping in a way that made you lose the breath inside. He was slow, soft in his movements that made you want to squirm.

You could feel your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Head pressing harshly against the comforter of the bed, your body hooked itself into an arch at his ministrations. A lewd, antagonizing sound of your pleasure being had by a man whose eyes bore deep into the way your body moved at his will sent you spinning.

Scott shifted himself on the bed. His feet propelled him upwards but he never let go, his hands nor mouth. He pushed you upwards on the bed and wrapped an arm around your leg to rest on your lower abdomen.

The change caught the words in your mouth.

Scott, occupied, still watched you unravel like putty. His eyes watched you focus on anything but his face and in an attempt to get your attention, his hand on your stomach moved to fiddle with your shirt that had not made it to the floor.

Your hand was quick to fold over his, squeezing tightly. His fingers flexed back.

“Oh,” you keened. In an effort to stay quiet, your other hands fingers pressed against your lips. The fire within you grew hotter.

Moving his hand from yours, he shifted to spread open your lips and gather the wetness on his tongue. Scott titled his head upwards and sucked on your clit that had you spinning. Your free hand went straight to his head and settled in his brown locks.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered as your toes curled and your hips rutted against his face unabashedly.

Scott’s other hand was long missing from your body as the one focused on you was hard at work with your satisfaction. He palmed at himself in his pants the best he could. The angle wasn’t working and soon, he’d need a reprieve.

The muscles in your body tensed. They began to shake not from a release, but an anticipation of one growing. The more you moved, the more Scott wanted to let go and slip inside of you.

He slowed his tongue to small, sensual flicks reminiscent of him bringing you back from a high you hadn’t yet reached. Pulling back on you, his lips caught with a trail of your slick and his spit. Scott ran his tongue over his lips—taking with him the taste of you.

“Move up,” he instructed, voice hoarse.

You sat up on your elbows and moved upwards on the bed as he stood up. He walked back to the chair beside the door where his belongings had ended up when he first burst through the door.

If you were attempting to be sly, your eyes navigated his body on display. Scott fully undid his belt and chucked his phone on the chair beside it. He shuffled out of his pants and briefs—pausing when the screen on his phone lit up with a text.

You couldn’t read it from the distance between you but he left it unread, turning back to you as your focus narrowed to his dick freely standing.

“My eyes are up here,” he rolled his eyes.

“I’m admiring,” you drawled. You ran a hand up your body and bent it behind your head on the pillows. “Can’t a girl admire? I mean…”

“She can,” he nodded in implying you can.

Scott took himself in his hands, pumping as he approached the bed again. He didn’t need to ask the ways in which to make both of you happy. He could read the room and the days and knew that what you both needed was something simple.

But sometimes, something simple was enough.

He joined you on the bed, tapping on your leg that blocked his goal.

“Come on,” his words were cut and dry and quiet.

You moved your leg back down as you sat up to meet him. Him, on his knees before you with his length in his hand and you, splayed before him wet and wanting. You reached to replace his hand with yours but he shook his head, knocking his chin at your shirt with a disapproving shake.

The worn Ole Miss letters standing stark amidst the nakedness of the room. Doc.

Huffing, you were quick to lose the shirt.

“Better?” You asked him. Reaching back toward to replace his hand, he removed his and let you take him.

“Perfect,” he groaned at the feel of your hand.

He was heavy and warm in your palm; watching with an intensity that only beckoned you to go further—sliding your hand along him delicately and squeezing just enough at the base for him to emit a grunt of satisfaction. Scott’s hands caressed the sides of your thighs as his mind went blank.

“Scott,” you purred. Sitting up on your knees and never letting him go. Your other hand wrapped around his shoulders as you pressed your chest against his. His hands were hot on your hips and ass.

You lazily drew your lips along his jaw to ear.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whispered. His heart was beating so fast. “I want you to fuck me into this mattress and make me think about it for days.”

Scott’s eyes were closed. His breathing unsteady and head pushing into yours. He gripped your body tightly.

“Baby—“ the pet name slipped out before he had a chance to take it back. Too personal? He wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t think straight. With your hand on his dick, all he could think about was how fast he could get inside of you.

“I thought we said—“

“We’ll be quiet,” you reassured him. “I didn’t say hard.”

Oh. You wanted to be fucked softly.

The kind of sex that left a heavy haze in the air. The one that drew everything out of a person and left it there, lingering, as if the pieces of them were nothing more than particles in space.

It was the sex you couldn’t turn back from.

You were too far gone.

You had been for quite some time yet never slipped up. You enjoyed what small, unreliable fling you had no matter how it grew inside of you. Scott wasn’t a man you’d dream about as a teen thinking of your future. He was a certified asshole with an ego as big as the fucking ocean but it slithered past defenses and ended up knocking at your gate.

But you loved the sinful way it made you feel.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” You cooed. You careened in his touch, pitching upwards as he cupped your ass roughly and relished the feel of your breasts on his chest. Everything about you was so soft.

“You know I do,” he panted. You stroked him still.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You positioned your head in front of his, kissing him gently on the lips before lowering back down onto the bed with your knees parted. You let him go and his cock bobbed.

And he did as you asked.

When Scott fucked you, the heavens blushed from above. He took his dick in his hand again, positioning himself to be in front of your pussy that was still shining with the wetness he left. He rubbed his tip up and down, gathering the wetness he could. Each motion threatening to push him in faster than either of you wanted.

This could be hours or forever and you’d never want it to end.

He stopped at your entrance to look in your wanton eyes. They begged him, they wanted him without a word. He guided his cock into you slowly. Your cunt, warm and inviting, welcomed him smoothly. Pressing your head deep into the pillows, you let out weak gasps at his intrusion.

Your head was swirling. You were full of him.

Each touch and each thrust was sending you toward a tether that was breaking string by string.

Scott was calculated but not over aware. He listened to your calls—the shallow, meek whimpers at the virility of his drives. He let you get lost; finding the stars in your eyes as he peered down at you until it became too much and Scott needed to feel you again.

Scott leaned down, taking your neck in both of your hands and kissing you deeply. Your hands glued themselves to the sides of his torso. His lips were a pillow in hot breaths; tongue sloppy when his hips ground into you faster than before.

His cock was splitting you. Thrust after thrust he gained the momentum of chasing a high. He never let you go; holding onto you whether delicate on your neck or grasping at your body, Scott palmed as you grew in want.

“Come on, come on,” he gritted through his teeth as you clenched around him. You weren’t registering the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall behind you. It was only you, Scott, and the sounds of your pleasure.

He picked up the rapid movements as best he could. It was so easy to lose himself in you. He, the most rigid man in both word and action, came alive at the opportunity to simply let go. Those words were strange—to let go—but he had found it in your meetings.

Scott Miller was many things, yet fucking you unbeknownst to the world was his greatest secret in his cruelty.

He watched you wither or waver, hands shifting to hold his face close to yours. You kept muttering nonsensical deliverances at your hips jutting up to join his. It was growing fierce—your end. The orgasm eating away at your resolve. Scott’s eyes were battering down on your own, nodding his head with eager anticipation of the rush of your finish.

He nodded, chin bumping yours as your mouths declined to collide in a spectacle. Your breaths beat at the rapid nature of your heart; panting for respite in the low light of the hotel’s table lamp and glow of the television.

“That’s it,” Scott coaxed. His silence in the efforts of his body ceasing. “Come on.” His teeth bit at his words.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered out. The wave was approaching. It tingled in your toes and laid heavy in your core. “Shit,” you gasped quietly. “Oh!”

Your mouth fell open and he took the opportunity to kiss you, tugging on your bottom lip as he pulled away and the curl of your toes became too real. You kept squeezing him, emboldening him to come with you.

Scott felt your muscles contract before it was nothing but a shake of your legs. You arched your back into him, allowing him to draw you close as he pounded into your finish to race to his own.

There was nothing in your eyes except the stars you couldn’t see. It was fuzzy, exhilarating as the pulses rushed through you in a couple, disjointed and erratic bursts. You couldn’t help but shake; it was overstimulating as Scott continued to push against your walls.

You swallowed his grunts, clinging onto his shoulders and cupping his face as he drew his arms under your back and repositioned you. He was close, so close. The beads of sweat on his forehead called him to end—a sure sign of his stamina along the sheen that covered you.

His hips snapped in and out with a fury. The softness of his earlier actions were thrown out the window. He did as he believed, fucked you into a state where you’d remember it for days.

And then his tether broke too.

Scott held your hips against him tightly. He kissed your lips as he finished inside of you before deepening it.

Suddenly you weren’t going to remember the sex.

You were going to recall the way he kissed you after he made sure you both came. How he wouldn’t let you feel anything but his lips, his tongue, his teeth, until he was soft inside of you.

Scott left your lips with a faint, nearly absent smile.

“How’s that for remembering?”

He wasn’t one for validation. He didn’t seek your approval but it slipped out of him with the words he shouldn’t say.

You ran your tongue over your lips to wet them. “Mm,” you thought. “I might forget what it feels like to be kissed?”

Scott scoffed as you ran your fingers through his hair. He dipped his head again to kiss your shoulder, peppering kisses to your lips as he made a trail. He nuzzled his nose into the side of your face and could tell when your face broke out into a smile. Taking the chance, he tucked his forehead into the crux of your neck and shoulder. You squirmed with laughter but his hands held you steady.

“I’ll be heading to The City for a few days,” he grumbled into your neck. “We got a new truck.”

“The gang ain’t enough anymore? You’re gonna outnumber us.”

Scott shook his head and began to unravel. He lifted up from you, slipping out as the cold met wet in the air. You could not help but draw your brows together at the discomfort—Scott’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on your thigh.

He started off the bed and into the bathroom attached to help clean you up. Tossing your worn shirt back on the bed before shuffling into his briefs and pants again. You sat up in confusion.

“Aren’t you stayin’?” You asked. “I thought we’d have a few hours.”

Maybe it had been dangerous to voice hope.

To voice and acknowledge the misery of missing him when it hurt to do so.

He shook his head again and went to his phone. “I gotta get that truck before she flies in.”

She. “Who?” You questioned with concern. You weren’t exclusive, you weren’t supposed to be jealous.

“Some girl Javi invited out for a few days,” he dismissed. Scott’s eyes were glued to the phone in his hand. “She works for NWS.”

“To help you?”

“Why else?” He sounded disgruntled at the fact. But he ignored your tone too. “Said she was a friend from college.”

“What’s the NWS got to do with your work?”

“She’s just helpin’ us find the tornados, not anything else. We don’t need help in what we do.”

You weren’t oblivious to Storm Par—you’d be a fucking fool not to be. It was something you detested, despised, about him and if you thought about it too long, you felt even the slightest but guilty of letting your thoughts wander to him when you were set on doing good.

He took from people in pain for what? His own personal gain? The money he raked in on the side of allowing a maniac of a man to fund his projects?

You knew there was a piece of him that strung you along not for sex or the fondness of it, but out of necessity to follow.

His team of storm chasers wouldn’t have the opportunities if they didn’t follow Tyler and the crew.

You were just collateral for the course. A “get love quick scheme” in the center of a raging cyclone of fucked up felonies and a YouTube channel of misfits.

Scott let his fingers move briskly over the keyboard of his phone.

“When is she coming?” You feigned to ponder instead.

“Monday.”

“So that means you have to leave now?”

Oh Lord Almighty. You sounded pathetic. Knees pulled up to your chest, holding the pieces of you together as you became forgotten.

You may have done things that made your momma blush but you cowering under the idea that a man is gonna leave you cold after a good roll in the sheets would set her aflame.

“Have to,” he tossed his phone back on the chair and took a new shirt out from his backpack. “For business on Sunday with Riggs before we head out. We agreed to…” he went back to his phone to check the time. “A two o’clock departure time.”

It wasn’t even fucking twelve thirty but hey, he couldn’t be seen, right?

“Bullshit,” you let fall out.

“What?” Scott picked it up. His head snapped to you.

“I said it’s bullshit,” you said a bit louder for him to hear. “I don’t get it, I don’t.”

“What don’t you ‘get’?” He had a lacing of judgment in his voice. It could have been the MIT superiority in him that festered with the ever mounting praise of his colleagues.

“I just don’t know when it will be enough for all of you,” you scoffed. “You pour money down drains for machines and tech and then you stockpile tragedies we can’t even keep up with. And now you’ve got the NWS on your side? The ones who are supposed to care about keeping us safe?”

“It’s freelance,” he pointed out while tucking in his shirt. He did up the belt in a flash. “And these people don’t need what’s left for them after it’s all gone. You know how hard it is for them to rebuild.”

“But those are their homes, Scott. What if it was your home or my home or your parents?”

“I’d figure we’d all end up in different places anyway,” he tucked his phone in his back pocket.

You shook your head at him, looking away to focus on the TV. Muttering an “unbelievable” under your breath, you began to wonder the reasons why he even bothered to show up.

They drove an entire team to Perry to sleep in a run of the mill hotel or perhaps that was second to Scott getting his fill. He just needed one good fuck to send him off and running to his next paycheck.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Scott concluded dispassionately. That stone cold, humorless man replaced whoever burst through the door.

“We both have jobs to do. Just stay in your lane and I’ll be in mine.”

Oh Christ he made you fume.

“You can be a real jackass, you know that?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You aren’t tellin’ me anything I ain’t heard before, honey.”

“Oh fuck off!” You shouted a bit too loudly. He slung his cap back on his head. “You’re such a piece of shit.”

“Then why tell me you were gonna be here?” He hummed an ask, approaching the bed with intent. You looked up at him as he settled in the spot next to you with his feet on the floor and arm outstretched to hold onto the headboard.

“Why ask me to sleep with you or stay or kiss you or whatever else just to hate me after it’s all done?”

“I didn’t ask to hate you.”

“You don’t hate me,” he clarified. “You just hate the way you feel about me.”

“You’re selfish,” you settled on.

“You’re entitled,” Scott countered. The Ole Miss on your shirt burned.

“You don’t care about anyone except yourself.”

And that pained you.

“You care about everyone else far too much,” he pulled his head toward you. His eyes flicked between your lips and eyes and you wanted to punch him and kiss it away.

All you wanted was to have a good night. To be worshiped in a quiet space and he gave you that, even if brief.

“Sometimes I don’t know why we even try.”

He was taken aback by it. You both were two people on very different ends of a string that snapped you together. It wasn’t perfect but it worked for the most part.

“Then why do we?” He shouldn’t have said it yet he did.

“You can’t even bear to stay,” you whispered. For a second, you thought you saw clarity in those cloudy eyes. “You can’t even fucking hold me after what we did.”

“I have to leave. I can’t stay.”

“You don’t get it do you?”

Scott breathed in deeply, declining the sentiment with a toss of his head.

“I gotta go,” he said quietly instead. He took your chin in his hand, knocking it gently to the side.

“I don’t know how you do it,” was all you could muster.

And then he left without another word.

In Boone’s mind, it did not matter if the sky was at its darkest, a joint never waited to be smoked when necessary.

He had woken about an hour before as Storm Par’s slamming of car doors rustled him from slumber. The RV wasn’t the most perfect place to reside while traversing wild weather but he loved it all the same. He rolled off the bunk without notice of Dexter who would have surely scolded him for partaking at such a late hour.

So, he snuck into the truck and lit up in the quiet solitude of night without interruption.

It wasn’t until an hour later when the drowsy feel of his tingles began to wear into sleep that he began to see things he’d question.

Boone rubbed the tired from his eyes the same time a door opened up to his right. He ducked into the front seat as though what he was doing was far from normal and spied the invasion of the public space.

Down to the right, Scott exited the room with a scowl on his face Boone could see in the dark. A backpack slung over his shoulder, he looked frustrated compared to the blasé he was used to. Scott walked past Boone without noticing and hopped into one of Storm Par’s trucks.

Boone remained ducked as he thought back to the room. Scott settled in the passenger seat before reclining it back to sleep. He disappeared from Boone’s view and the latter looked to the motel rooms again.

Even in his foggy memory, he recalled Lily sticking a crumpled piece of paper in the cup holder for Tyler to use. It had the address of the motel and the room numbers reserved. He scouted the cup holders until his fingers grasped the paper’s corner.

“34221 Sli-“ he rumbled off as he read the note. His eyes traveled down to the rooms.

Lily room nine.

Tyler room thirteen.

Dani room twenty-one.

And then his eyes widened in curiosity at your name finely written and a twenty-two carved next to it. Those same numbers were lightly illuminated by the light above the door.

“No shit,” Boone chuckled in disbelief.

The next few days were nothing but a blur.

The sky was like that too. Cloudy and gray. It seemed to reflect whatever was left inside of you to stir and gather into something larger as your memories of Scott overplayed in your mind with poor restraint.

God, how you wished it would just rain and swallow you whole.

It was absurd—feigning such disappointment over a man who was not your significant other but did everything in solitude to appear that way. He loved on you and left you cold with nothing to warm the thoughts of what it would be like when you saw him again.

And when you did, it was disappointing.

The woman they had brought on to help was far too good to be mixed in with a crowd of degenerate Ivy pricks but she stayed with them longer than she should have. In their paths, it felt like they crossed yours even more than before.

You were struck trying to avoid Scott’s entire being when his truck passed or when they stopped at the same station or motel or place as you and yours.

It started to eat at you, the avoidance.

On an early Tuesday morning, you felt the winds begin to change again. Tyler blew a tire the night before and broke his jack trying to fix it. The lot of you ended up in the parking lot of a rundown gas station as the sun began to rise when the white trucks came barreling down the road and straight into the parking lot.

Dani booed them from the stairs of the RV.

“Can’t your just leave us the hell alone?” Lily complained. It had been four days straight of interactions with them and it had caused nothing but trouble. You tried your best to stay normal but Boone kept sitting by you as if he wanted to hold your hand.

It peeved you to think he knew something was wrong.

“They just love us too much,” Dani joked as she waved at the group exiting their trucks. Kate, their newest addition, smiled in the distance.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Boone acknowledged from beside you.

“Hey Storm Par!” Dani shouted. “Go find your own fucking tornados!”

Beside their trucks, Javi scoffed and shook his head.

“What?” Kate inquired, her eyes curious as they had been the last week. “They’re just jokin’ I’m sure.”

“Nah,” Javi replied. “They don’t like us the same as we don’t like them. I thought you’d pick up on that now.”

“Well sure,” Kate laughed at the ridiculousness of it. “But there’s more to this than that.”

There’s more to chasing than a fight.

“Yeah well, tell that to them.”

“They’re just shitheads,” Scott piped up on his approach. “Think they’re better than the rest of us because they’ve got a camera in their face.”

“They’ve been fine to me,” Kate defended. She watched as the so-called tornado wranglers bounced up from their seats and headed in her direction. The man with the bandana tried to coax you to join but you refused physically.

“It’s just all of you that rub them the wrong way.”

“Well it’s a two-way street.”

You go your way, and I’ll go mine.

Kate observed the carefree way in which everyone interacted with one another. The two other girls tugged on your arms to bring you to your feet against your will. She felt Scott shift on his feet beside her but didn’t dwell on it.

“They still got that reporter with ‘em,” she noted. “Must be an interesting bunch to write a story about.”

“When you put together people from seven different walks of life, you’re bound to get something good,” Javi agreed with her.

Scott shifted again and Kate looked up at him. He wore his sunglasses, therefore it was hard to see his eyes. But his face was set and jaw tight. His hands were dug into his pockets but the distaste rolled off of him in waves. She looked back into the direction of all of you.

Boone was running circles around the three girls as their arms were wrapped around each other. Friends. It reminded Kate too much of the ones she lost.

“Alright everyone,” Scott called out. “Five minutes and then we’re back on the road.”

The inside of the station was no different than any other. Five rows of food with a wall of freezers in the back, a broken counter with a tower of cigs and vapes waiting to be sold. Kate was reading the back of a SunChips bag when you all came in. The bell above the door sounding with a jingle, Dani and Lily’s laughter filled the space compared to the nonexistent chatter of Storm Par’s presence.

You held the door open for Tyler who gave a wink and a thanks that didn’t phase you as it would her. He was handsome, charming if a little obnoxious. He smiled at Kate and a part of her felt like running, the other falling.

You didn’t have the same spunk the others did. After they left your vicinity the smile on your face dropped and the shoulders were heavy. You passed Kate, giving her a small hello, before walking down the aisle. She peaked her head to the side of the stand.

“Find anything good?” Kate called out kindly. Her light Oklahoma twang cut through.

You glanced at her. “If you count fruit flavored Doritos good, then maybe we have different tastes.”

She chuckled and took it as a sign to approach.

You didn’t know much about Kate other than what Boone had dug up and what Scott had mentioned before she arrived. She was smart as a whip, a talented chaser, and one who made mistakes too.

“I don’t think those would be good in any situation.”

“We can agree there,” you mumbled. You picked up a small bag of Veggie Straws.

“So where are y’all chasing today?” Kate inquired.

“Why?” You countered. “So you can follow us around?”

“No,” she shook her head, feeling as though she offended you. “No… we can find our own. I was just wonderin’ if y’all wanted to go to this bar tonight.”

You furrowed your brows. Under the static lighting of the gas station mart, you were falling into confusion.

“Y’all as in… us?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. Kate was intrigued by what you did. The way you all risked so much for entertainment or maybe, for some of you, there was still an inch of science to be discovered.

The day after you all converged and she had a panic attack at the sight of the tornado, Kate spent the morning watching the videos posted from your channel. She was amazed by the thrill of what feelings Tyler and Boone could ooze out of the screen.

But she took a liking to the science you broke down for the average viewer. The way you taught amidst the chaos of wrangling tornadoes or shooting fireworks up the funnel.

“I thought we could all use a break,” she shrugged. “Javi and I have known each other for a long time and we used to stop there for line dancing on Thursdays.”

Well it just so happened to be a Thursday.

“And these fellas are more wound up than a goddamn toy,” she said under her breath. “I think a pitcher of beer and some good ol’ fashion Oklahoma hospitality would do us well.”

“Oh,” you replied softly. “Um, well… Ty makes a lot of those decisions so many you could ask him?”

Her eyes went bright. “Sure! I mean, I just thought I’d ask. They all talk about you so much… I think they’re all a little jealous.”

The thought of what Scott or any of the other Storm Par guys said about you and your friends bristled you. Scott’s face met you in dreams to remind you that he was never too far away and whatever strife you had with him and his work was always going to get in the way.

“Do they?” You commented. You could hear Javi in the aisle over talking to Scott about equipment.

“Mhm.”

“How charming,” you moved down the aisle to the other products but Kate didn’t follow. She looked in your direction but behind you.

Javi and Scott were at the end of the aisle beside you, the former shuffling behind you with a small ‘excuse me’ while the other stood there for a brief moment. You looked over your shoulder at him and his glasses were now gone, meeting your gaze for seconds too long.

“I was just inviting them to come with us,” Kate informed Javi who turned, eyeing you as your attention was distracted.

“Well I hope they can dance,” Javi .

Kate said your name which brought your attention back. You could feel Scott lingering, his stance imposing on your small aisle of snacks. You could always feel him around—a curse from caring about everyone too much. He wasn’t a small man or one who could hide in the shadows; he towered over the short shelves.

And that caught Tyler’s attention when the conversation became too loud to go unnoticed. He appeared out of thin air at the other end of the aisle by the door.

You wanted the bags of chips to swallow you whole. It was bad enough that you were stuck between the word you loved and the man who made it more complicated. It was bad enough that Tyler would certainly say yes to Kate’s proposal because he had been sneaking glances at her for a week.

He had shit-eating grin on his face as he walked closer to the group of you. His curious eyes monitoring the way Scott’s body was a little too close to yours.

A part of him believed they were cornering you for something. He wouldn’t put it past them for their sordid work in the hellish treatment of victims but hey, who was he to assume? You clutched the bag in your hands hard enough it could pop.

“We all good over here?” Tyler questioned Scott specifically. It was the only other guy he could size up to and play out a macho-man persona. “I don’t think I need to tell y’all that my team is my team, off limits to your work.”

Scott laughed, truly laughed at Tyler. Javi and Kate’s heads whipped around to Scott who rested an arm bent on the shelves beside him. Tyler focused on Scott in a labored calculation. He might have been the one they all liked the least.

“Did I say somethin’ funny?”

“Yeah,” Scott replied. His voice flat as always. “You did.”

Tyler looked around at Kate, Javi, and yourself who frowned.

“Care to explain what?”

Scott held back an amused smile as his eyes creased at the edges. You looked up at him with a warning. To your surprise, Scott looked back.

“No,” he responded curtly while looking at you. Off limits.

Kate sensed it. She did. There was something there—the air heavy like a storm.

“We’re gonna go to a dance bar in Enid tonight. I was just askin’ if all y’all would like to join us,” Kate pitched in to Tyler who slowly removed his gaze from Scott to her. His eyes let up softly.

“Dance bar? I don’t take any of these fellas for the dancing kind.”

“Don’t you know we’re all from here?” Javi asked him and he didn’t. You did but Tyler didn’t know much about any of them except their high degrees of achievement and late-stage superior fraternity behavior.

“So you’re tellin’ me that Mr. Stick-up-his-ass here can two step like it’s his birthday?”

“Oh you ain’t never see Scott dance,” Javi laughed loudly and gathered the rest of the wranglers to the aisle. “We can dance you into next week.”

“Alright,” Tyler nodded his head. One night wouldn’t hurt. “I’m good with it as long as it’s fine with Doc.”

Shit. They all gazed at you with bated breath. You could feel their beady eyes piercing; Scott's blistering eyes on the side of your head prompting you to try.

The last time you attempted to have a good evening it left you reeling. That was six days ago and you still replayed Scott’s words through your mind. Over and over and over and over again.

You’re entitled.

Stay in your lane.

You cared about everyone else too much.

Yet your lanes always converged. And you had the right to be entitled as the name suggested. Doc. You were overly qualified to be there and whatever flew your way, you deserved it.

And fuck, if you didn’t care about everyone else, you’d be a shell of a human. So hollow that your world would collapse.

By the laws of physics, you’d stay in motion. You’d keep going even if he pulled you backwards a million times.

You looked at Tyler, tossing your bag of chips in his direction.

“I’d love to go dancin’.”

Boone screeched a happy whistle and yelled to save him a dance. Scott seethed at those words as if he had a claim otherwise. It was an agreement to keep it quiet for the sake of your jobs, your sanity. But he was a covetous in his belongings and for whatever belief he had, you were his in all but name.

His actions made it difficult to fully manifest into reality. When you keep a locked door locked, you don’t deserve to enjoy it for free. It ate away at him differently than the anxiety of hurt ate at you.

He wanted to freely give himself to you–to be the man you'd see on dark nights in the solace of a bedroom or wherever you could find respite.

It was tough to be the person you thought you were.

It was much easier to be a coward.

The dance bar was packed full of locals and tourists alike. You couldn’t place the pull Enid had on people who weren’t from there but it was alive the moment you walked through the door.

Boone whistled at the sight of everything.

“I gotta hand it to ‘em. They sure can pick a place.”

“Have you never been dancin’ before?” You questioned, linking your arm in the space offered by him. He gave a cheeky smile and tipped his cowboy hat with a free finger.

“Oh, don’t underestimate me, Doc. Just cause you ain’t seen these moves don’t mean I ain’t got them.”

“Maybe I’ve been blessed. If it’s the same way you hold a camera, I can’t imagine your feet.”

“Uh huh,” he egged you on. “Keep it comin’. I have a whole night to prove you wrong.”

You scrunched your nose at him. At the moment, a series of rapid clicks sounded behind you. You and Boone peaked behind you at Ben, the reporter, snapping a photo.

“Sorry,” he apologized bashfully. “I haven’t been able to capture much of you.” He spoke to you, not Boone. “I want to feature more than just the storms.”

“Well you’re gonna get a whole lot more than storms tonight, Ben!” Boone cheered as Dani joined him on his other side.

You got the sudden sense of deja vu to your college days. Those undergraduate nights where your friends would drag you to the bar and everything was far too loud and over exciting. It was beer and booze and feet that fumbled. There was nothing over exhilarating about going out on a weekday but now, past those prime days, you felt a simmer of that feeling come alive inside of you.

Against your better judgment, the idea that Scott and you were crossing paths in a public setting beyond your professions was exciting. It sent thrills down you when it shouldn’t.

He had done nothing to remedy what he said—nor you for that matter. You kept your distance by sitting in the truck while stopping or sleeping in the RV with Dexter and Boone instead of a motel. Every time in the last week that your lines had met, you kept them parallel.

Tonight would be the hardest to not intersect.

“Can I buy you all a round?” Ben offered kindly. His mannerisms were foreign in the West. “For an exciting week, I suppose.”

“Who are we to say no, Ben?” Tyler slung an arm around his shoulder. Dexter and Lily flanked him at his sides.

Your group settled at a table in the back of the bar by the darts and pool table. Dexter challenged Dani to a rematch of a game they had settled a couple of weeks ago, and the rest of you nursed or chugged the beer that Ben had bought. You were the former. Sticking your attention on the foam at the top as it slowly made its way down the glass to become nonexistent.

“So,” Boone cleared his throat beside you as Dani, Tyler, and Ben looked over the photos the journalist had taken thus far.

“Is there a reason your attitude has been shit lately?”

You peered into the glass. Fingers tapping the sides of it.

“I was editing the last video and if anyone wanted a tornado to actually kill them, viewers might be convinced it’d be you.”

“Oh come on,” you scoffed. “I am sure my bad day didn’t ruin the video.”

“I didn’t say ruin, only tainted it. But what’s goin’ on?” He pointed and probed at your temple invasively. “The wheels are turning. I can hear them.”

“It’s nothin’, Boone. Just… girl stuff.”

“My favorite!” He bellowed like a King. Dani transitioned from her conversation to yours.

“What’s your favorite?”

“Girl stuff,” he mimicked. “Just askin’ about little miss sad is all.”

Dani nodded, taking a sip of her beer.

“Is it about your tinder date?”

“My what?” You showed deep confusion. “What date?”

“Last week,” she said casually. “I could hear your headboard against my wall. Jesus,” Dani laughed. “I didn’t know you had it in you Doc.”

Ben and Tyler’s conversation ended and they eavesdropped from the end of the table. At the other end of the bar, Storm Par, in casual clothing, entered.

You blanched at her words. You didn’t even realize.

“Oh-ho!” She pounded a fist on the table. “It was a tinder guy! Ha!”

Boone went suspiciously quiet beside you as she kept on.

“I didn’t want to say anything then but it makes sense. You’ve been on edge ever since. Maybe you should call him—“

“No,” you shook your head at her. Your hands left the glass and settled in your lap.

“He wasn’t good? Oh—“

“No!” You defended too fast and awkwardly. Boone glanced at Tyler who became far too interested in his co-pilot’s silence.

Dani lowered her voice with concern. “Was it too, you know, rough? Did he hurt you?”

“Oh my God!” You exclaimed at the invasion of privacy. “Can you not?”

“Sorry!” She held up her hands. “I didn’t hear anything else if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t want to know your kinks.”

“Oh fuck me,” you wailed. “Dani, can you please stop?”

“Ok, ok!” She backed off and sat in her seat. “I’m just trying to help!”

“I know,” you breathed in. Tyler took a large sip of his beer before putting it back on down the table.

“We know him?” He questioned, eying Boone move uncomfortably in his seat. You looked at him and gaped for a millisecond before shaking your head.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

Boone glanced at Tyler again and he knew you lied. He didn’t think it was Boone—that would be a nonstarter because you weren’t his type. It wasn’t Dexter because he was married and Ben was not interested in women.

He knew you didn’t swing for Dani or Lily so it was someone else. Dani already deduced it was a man so any other woman was out of the question.

“Well maybe you just need to find someone else to take your mind off of it?” Dani suggested.

“Yeah. Maybe.” You bit at the inside of your cheek.

“A lot of fuss over a one night stand,” Tyler put an arm over the back on Ben’s seat. “Must’ve been somethin’ if you’re down and out about it.”

You downed the beer before you in a flash.

“Must’ve,” Dani agreed with a hum.

“Anyone want another?” You asked, shifting out of your seat. The heels of your boots clacked onto the floor with a bounce.

Everyone shook their heads no and let you leave the table.

The music was pumping through the speakers loudly and the bar was full. You spotted Kate with a couple of the Storm Par guys doing a shot—all of them looking like regular Joe’s in their tees and flannels. Not far from the edge of the bar Scott and Javi waited for pitchers to be filled.

It was rare you saw him out of his “uniform.” Clad in a dark blue tee and his own flannel, the only thing that separated him from the rest was the way he looked. When he tried, Scott was movie-star handsome. The kind of person that’d be having girls write their numbers on his hand at the end of the night.

His presence was unfair to the other men around—except for Tyler on the occasion. It was a shame he was an asshole.

Instead of going toward Scott and Javi as you might have a week ago, you took an empty spot beside Kate who cheerfully greeted you. She waved down the bartender, asking for another shot and to refill your glass.

Tyler watched you walk away. He couldn’t see the decision making in your eyes or hear the thoughts in your mind, yet he had his own to make assumptions.

“Boone,” he called to his friend who sat quietly. Tyler watched you stand next to Kate and Ben’s gaze followed.

“Yeah?”

“Why you bein’ so quiet?”

“I’m n-not,” he tripped over his words. “I’m not.”

“You sure we don’t know him?”

Tyler clocked each of the Storm Par men. None of them looked immediately taken by you standing there, itching to get their hands on you but then he let himself wander to the end of the bar.

And he locked in.

“I don’t know him,” Boone choked a laugh. “How would I know? She’d tell Dani before me.”

“I didn’t say she told you.”

“Well I’m just implying.”

Tyler turned to Ben who was trying to copy Tyler’s movements.

“Ben,” Tyler tipped his head toward you. “Tell me what you see.”

Ben cleared his throat like he was being interrogated. “Well they just got a second round of shots and the bartender said it’s on the house. She must recognize us.”

“Ok,” Tyler pointed. “And down there? What can we conclude, Mr. London.”

“Oh, well… it seems not everyone is out for a good time.” It was Scott’s frown that told him that.

“You sure?” Tyler watched as Dani blanked. Her eyes suddenly went wide and worrisome at the thought.

“No!” She objected. “No fucking way. Not on my watch, Tyler. Nope!”

“What?” Ben asked frantically. “What’s wrong?”

“Tyler thinks it’s one of them,” Dani pointed to Javi and Scott.

“It is one of them,” as though there were options. “It’s the fucking stick in the mud.”

Dani scowled and physically rejected the idea. Ben watched what Tyler did as Scott, the taller of the two men and the one facing your direction at the bar, couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you laughed at whatever Kate said.

You started to leave and he averted his gaze until your back was to him. You didn’t even look at him when you passed him and Javi.

“Shit,” Dani muttered as you got closer. Boone closed his eyes with a sigh before nodding at the rest of the table.

“It is him,” he admitted and Dani slapped a hand on her face. “I saw him.”

“You saw them?”

“No, him. Leaving her motel room last week.”

“Oh Lord,” Dani nearly wailed. “She’s been sad over him?”

“He is quite attractive,” Ben defended. Dani slapped his arm harshly.

“Dammit don’t say that!”

Tyler sat in contemplation. He had been your friend for years now and knew when things got rough, it could be difficult to overcome them. Everyone had gone through countless breakups and one night stands and situationships that didn’t work out and after a bit, you’d be ok.

Yet he knew it was different somehow.

Even though he despised Storm Par and had nothing but horrible interactions with Scott, there must have been something there for you to cling on to.

And anger had a distant cousin: jealousy.

When you came back to the table, everyone was quiet and observing.

“What?” You questioned each of them.

“Nothin’” Dani said quickly.

“Oh really?”

“Do you wanna dance?” Tyler asked you abruptly. You could see on his face that there was another thought lingering below the surface but didn’t prove.

“Right now?”

“Yeah,” he hopped off his stool and motioned toward the group of people dancing to the rhythms of the music. Most were couples, a few spattering of friend groups around.

Tyler held out his hand to you.

“Don’t tell me a PhD can’t dance, Doc.”

You rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours. It wasn’t Scott’s, but it would do for now.

“Of course I can, hillbilly. I just do it a bit more sophisticated than you.”

Dani and Boone howled in laughter as you let Tyler take you to the dance floor, spinning you around twice before settling to the score. You danced sweetly with one another as the others looked on from their seats.

Tyler Owens always looked proud to be in the company of his friends. Each plucked from their own little obscure corner of the world: a YouTube daredevil, an amateur late-age scientist, an ex-pr firm reject, a tech fair winner, and you—the science bros internet girlfriend who was a professor of physics.

He adored each of you in a special way that made everyday worth living.

It hurt him that you couldn’t be honest about an action so natural. If Scott had been a one time thing or a many time thing, he would learn to accept it if it meant you would be happy.

He’d want the same in return should a situation arise.

“You know,” he cleared his throat as the song sped up in tempo but came back down. “We don’t really keep secrets from each other here.”

You sighed, looking away from Tyler. Everyone was at peace on the door before the real dancing began and you tried not to peak at the table as Storm Par settled at the table beside your friends.

“I’m not keeping secrets. I’m not revealing information.”

“Ah!” Tyler chuckled. “Ok, fine… but if I said that even if you didn’t tell us and kept whatever you have with whoever it is going, that we would all be ok with it, that wouldn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said frankly. “I think—“

“That he’s staring at us right now.”

Tyler met your eyes with purity. There was no cruelty or hatred in them for you to think he was being a jerk about it.

You opened your mouth to speak but he denied you the chance.

“There’s a lot of things I could say about it, Doc. A lot. You could’ve picked a nicer dude, not a leech to our operations, someone who cares about people…” he trailed off when he saw your demeanor fall far from his jokes.

“Boone saw him,” he clarified. “He put the pieces together but didn’t want to say anything. Not his place, I guess.”

“No,” you said in soft resignation.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“How long?”

“Not long after we met them,” you confessed. About a year ago. Tyler whistled, his hand inched a bit lower on your back but it was still respectful, you didn’t mind.

“And something he did, said, isn’t sitting right?”

“No.”

“Do you want my advice?”

You stayed silent as he continued on. He let the music play out as you swayed. Javi and Kate joined on the floor and their giggles were noticeable from the short distance between you.

“Guys like him… they’re complicated. And I get it if you don’t want to hear it but I’ve been around guys like him my whole life. They can be selfish and unnerving and stupid. It’s like they’re trying to prove to the world that they’re fit to be in it.”

You couldn’t disagree.

“When they find a place that accepts them, they’ll rise to the top of it and not know what it’s like to be at the bottom anymore. They forget about people like us.”

“I think I changed my mind—“ you started to pull away but he tugged you back.

“I’m not telling you to let him go. He just hasn’t been put in a place of uncertainty in a long, long time.”

“He said I was entitled.”

“He’s a prick and I will beat his ass if you want me to.”

You smiled. “No. It’s ok.”

“I will do it, don’t underestimate me,” he smirked. “And by the way he watches you, that uncertainty is you.”

“What do you mean by it?”

“I think you might scare him a little, Doc.”

You did.

Scott’s heart rate rose significantly from the time he entered the bar, saw you, and had to watch you dance with Tyler. Those same words that replayed in your mind the last week surfaced as soon as he sat in the truck and the door was shut.

He was an ass. It was a part of him that he couldn’t escape from no matter how he tried. His memories delicately held onto the hours you shared where he felt he could be someone else.

Tyler kept glancing in the direction in which Scott sat as though to rub salt in the wound.

“Can we try not to frown today?” Kate saddled up in the seat beside him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile.”

“Normal people don’t walk around grinning.”

“No,” she kicked her feet. “But they do allow themselves to have fun.”

“I am.”

She blew raspberries as Javi poured the beer into their glasses. “You are a tough nut.”

“Never not one,” Javi agreed. “Just loosen up, man. The world is bigger than what we do.”

Scott breathed in a frustrated sigh. “I’m fine,” he pressed.

“Not since I’ve met you,” Kate suggested. She looked out into the sea of people. “Maybe we can just all take it easy tonight. Drink some beer, dance, and then find you someone to take home.”

Scott’s voice was muffled by the beer he drank but he shook off her suggestion. He didn’t even really know this girl who appeared to be a phenom of weather patterns. All she had done this week was disrupt their workings and fall on his irritation scale.

“I like the sound of that!” Javi encouraged. “When’s the last time you been laid, huh? 2015?”

Scott didn’t entertain it. He looked out onto the dance floor and saw you swaying with Tyler—a mix of concern and thankfulness levied on your face.

“Ok, ok… blink once if before or twice if after,” Javi continued at Kate’s amusement. “I’m serious, man. We’re gonna hook you up, alright? Kate’s got a six sense for pickin’ the right ones.”

Javi took his turn but the song changed to a favorite of Kate’s and his eyes lit up at the same time hers did. Call it a sign from the heavens, but Scott had been saved from the humiliation of his friend.

Kate dragged Javi to the floor not far from you and Tyler and it gave him protection to keep looking.

Tyler spun you close to Javi and Kate.

“We all have to face our fears,” Tyler told you. “If we don’t, they’re gonna prevent us from what we need in our lives.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that a book deal might be in your future? Words of Wisdom by everyone’s favorite tornado wrangler.” You emphasized with the sparkle of your fingers.

“That ain’t a half bad idea.”

“I’m full of great ideas.”

“Then start thinkin’ of one to remedy this. I love ya, I do. But if you let his shell break you, it will be a hell of a lot harder to handle the road.”

“Thank you, Tyler,” you said earnestly. “I wasn’t sure what any of you would say about it.”

“Well,” he racked his brain for the thought. “You remember that girl Dani was seein’ from Kansas? She might not have been the most perfect but she was perfect for Dani when she needed her. And maybe that’s Scott for you.”

The sound ended abruptly and the speakers let out a deafening tone. A bartender came onto the surround sound to kick off the line dancing that only Tyler could hype up more. Kate and Javi found themselves beside you both and everyone that could fit on the wooden floor ascended.

Tyler clapped his hands together as he stationed himself near the first line. You weren’t too confident in yourself even if you had been doing this since you could walk, so you settled in the spot behind him. Kate was jovial to stand next to Tyler. Her eyes twinkled and you thought back on his words.

Perfect for what was needed.

“OoO, my man!” Javi clapped Scott’s back in surprise as he joined on the floor.

Dani, Boone, and Lily ran to stand next to you, so Javi and Scott took the positions behind you. Dexter cheered everyone on from the table with Ben. The latter took his camera out with his finger on the shutter.

“Don’t step on our shoes now, you hear me?” Lily screeched over her shoulder to Javi and Scott. Feeling emboldened by the two glasses of beer he downed in a record time, Scott ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it!” He shouted back.

“Ok Mr. MIT, come to show us how it’s done!” Lily drawled. She tugged on your arm—having missed the conversation prior. Dani’s smile dropped off her face fast.

“I say we place a bet!” She yelled over the music that was getting so loud. Your ears rung as the lights began to spin in different colors. Javi heard the bet and drew closer to Lily.

She pulled your arm with her, sticking you beside Scott. He put his hands on his hips and his elbow knocked your other arm.

“Twenty that he’ll fall on his face,” she suggested.

Javi looked at Scott and contemplated the idea. Scott was distracted by you standing there. He just stared, like a fish out of water in a town not far from one he visited as a kid.

You made him feel like a fish out of water.

“Deal!” You heard Javi agree and before Lily could shake his hand in a deal, you piped up.

“I bet with Javi!” She peeped at you surprised. “Forty says he can!”

Scott never had someone put trust in him like that. It was a damn good thing his mother taught him more than just math and science.

“Ok!” She yelled back, shaking both Javi and your hand.

Before you turned to take your spot as the music started, you took Scott in.

“Don’t disappoint me!” You shouted.

After the last few days, he couldn’t will himself to.

He shook his head, letting a smile grow to his eyes. Dani had never seen it before.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby!”

And Scott danced his fucking ass off.

You weren’t sure where it ended or began, but you could feel it coming in your bones.

Not the sounds of laughter in a confined space or the blaring of music—the rapid, unpredictable nature of dedication a person could not admit. It was a funnel cloud below the truck; a spiraling tire on the side of the road blasting its radius toward you.

The cool air at night hit your body like a bucket of water. The squealing of the door to the bar rattled at the force you used to push but it didn’t slam closed as you expected.

Two minutes ago, you were breathing heavily on the dance floor. The stomping rhythm of boots on wood turning your mind blank with every kick and turn. You had found the peace within the steps and let it drive you to a foundation.

Scott had gladly proved them all wrong—enjoying the surprised excitement that emitted from both his and your own team at the way he was able to, standing above six feet, move the way he did. He caught your smile more than once, a resurgence of hope filled him.

At the break of the song, you hung onto Lily’s arm, pointing to the door.

“I need some air,” you nearly heaved.

So you went for the door and he debated on whether to follow but in the business you took up, there was always the possibility of never having another moment.

And if he didn’t strike his fear now, he’d never do it.

“Hey,” he called out to you as the music started up again but you were too far gone. Already halfway to the door by the time he had made a decision. He tried calling out to you again, except his track was cut off by a sweaty Boone.

“Ex-“

“Don’t fucking hurt her,” Boone panted. His eyes pleaded for his friend, for you. “Don’t do it. Please.”

“I’m not—“

“You say you’re not but I’m sure you’ve said it before. But think about it, dude…” Boone got up in Scott’s personal space. “If a tornado hit this building right now and you were the only one left, would you be ok with how this ends?”

Scott saw the earnest plea in Boone’s call. He placed a hard, firm hand on Boone’s shoulder.

“I appreciate it, man.”

It was the first time Scott was decent to him.

Scott left him standing there near the entrance as he caught the door before it slammed closed. Outside, you stood in a cool down position in the orange-yellow glow of the parking lot.

His heart was beating out of his chest. It hadn’t felt that way in a week.

He wasn’t sure if you knew he had followed you. You didn’t turn around and didn’t acknowledge him as the silence overtook. Crickets strung their chords and cars whirled by on the road.

Scott leaned against the brick building under the neon lights with a knee bent.

“Do I scare you?”

You broke the silence after minutes had passed. You kept your back to him but he looked up, folding his arms across his broad chest.

If you turned around, you feared you wouldn’t be able to keep it together.

“Don’t lie to me,” you tried not to sound like a beggar. “Do I scare you?”

“Yeah,” he stated frankly. “Yeah you do.”

“Why?”

You could hear him breathe out. You imagined him looking around for an answer.

“There’s a million reasons why.”

“You can’t name one?” You took the chance to glance at him. His face was half illuminated by a moody blue glow of the neon sign.

“I can name plenty,” he reassured. “I just don’t know what’s too personal to say.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“Fine,” his fingers tapped on his bicep. “You scare me because this game we play doesn’t always feel like a game to me.”

The sex. The getting together in the middle of the night to whisper sweet nothings and cherish a deep connection to feel like it’s nothing the next day.

“You scare me because you’re smart and know what you’re doing when we’re just getting our heads straight.”

Your head tilted to the side at his honesty.

“You scare me because I feel something that maybe I shouldn’t. Because by some stupid chance I can’t have you, someone else will and I can’t imagine seeing them with you.”

Your chest tightened.

“I’m selfish to think that way,” he nodded. “You’re right about that.”

“I was talking about your work,” you confessed. “I think what you do is selfish.”

He didn’t say anything to that because he knew it was also true. Everything he sold to people was a fat lie to make money for a man who already had enough.

“You care about people too much,” he repeated. “And I don’t have enough people to put the care that I have into them.”

“You’re an asshole,” you told him and he nodded again.

“I’d have to agree.”

“You made me feel like shit.”

“I can’t take it back.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “For what I said and didn’t do. I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve it.”

His moody blues were turning the sky sad. A raindrop hit the ground between you.

“I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness,” he continued. “I’ve never been nice to your friends, or you, when we’re on the road. I dislike the way Tyler danced with you—made me want to knock his fucking teeth out but I figured you’d hate me more if I did.”

“He did that on purpose, you know.”

He shook his head, looking off into the grassland beyond the bar. You felt like you were being laid onto an altar for a choice. One that seemed easy but was hard, and one that was hard but the devil claimed it was easy.

“Figures,” he mumbled. “But I deserved it.”

“We’d have to agree there too.”

He looked up at you again. Arms still crossed, he undid them and extended a hand to you as an offering. Scott was not shocked by the hesitation in your steps.

“I think you have a lot of work to do, Scott.”

“I do.”

“And I don’t want to think this is all grandstanding to get into my bed.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not one to give second chances,” you told him and he dropped his hand in his lap. “But I don’t think what we were doing constitutes as a first chance either.”

You walked toward him at your own volition. The gravel harsh under your heels, you settled with your toes at his. And you fiddled with the edges of the opening to his flannel no different than the collar in the diner.

“This is the only chance I’ll give you.”

Another raindrop fell.

“I don’t intend on wasting it.” Scott’s eyes flicked between your lips and eyes.

In the laws of physics, there is one to triumph above the rest.

The gravitational law states that if a particle exists, it will attract others to them unwillingly—it is simply the natural state of existence.

The pull is magnetic; impossible to pass by the will of your mind, body, or soul. It tugged at the heartstrings roughly. A bridge that connected people from everywhere to be in one singular place at the right time.

Scott’s gravitational pull was too powerful to withstand. It pulled every bit of you into him without remorse—it was blue, red, and the colors of the world within to bloom into spectacles you’d only see when your eyes were closed.

Scott’s hands found purchase on your waist, drawing you into his pull. One of your hands remained on his chest. His erratic heart beat no differently than your own and the other hand grasped his forearm.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in the night. “I’m sorry.”

You rested your forehead on his. “I know.”

The strength of his pull was strong. Yet it was not strong enough for you to pull your head back.

“Don’t prove I’m right,” you wanted him. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Can I be selfish one more time?” He inquired with a gleam in his eyes. Scott ran his tongue over his lips expectantly.

“Oh,” you feigned innocence. “Well, I don’t know if that would—“

He cut you off as he brought his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly. His lips were warm and smelt of a faint cheap beer. Another raindrop fell and this time it hit your face. You ignored it.

You gripped onto his shirt with a fist as he deepened the kiss. Taking one of his hands from you, he cupped the side of your neck to position you as he pleased.

It started to rain in Enid.

In the rain, the laws of physics didn’t defy themselves. The rain soaked into your clothes and into his dark locks to drip onto his face more so than yours. The blue of the neon sign growing hot instead of cold.

You broke away from him, tracing the lines of his face.

“Don’t prove I’m right,” you repeated.

And he didn’t.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and your reactions motivate us greatly!

[prettycottagequeer]

ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started