#you’d be wrong though
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to-be-a-dreamer · 2 months ago
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Out of everyone making predictions/saying who they want to win this season I don't think I've seen anyone say they want Etho to win which is like. We love him just a little pathetic and we want him to stay that way
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frooogscream · 3 months ago
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oh my god you can not still be framing Cons inappropriate and to be frank suspicious behaviour as him being "relatable" and "quirky about fan art". I also don’t see why you are calling it queer fanart, trying again to rephrase it into something positive he is supporting, when in reality it is simply porn. Porn that children that watch a family show like Our Flag could be seeing on his account!
He has shown clearly who he is in that livestream, showing his fucking bulge to fans! I don’t care if it was just for a few seconds! I don’t care if it was just for a sketch! It is still predatory as hell!
Ok I’m not gonna go through all the BS and why it is BS that reproduces homophobic fearmongering and sexualises queer bodies (esp. comparing it to Rhys and Taika doing the same and coming to the conclusion that them doing it was harmless but the queer man doing so is a "danger to the children" or whatever) again, you can look back to the things I posted when that was fresh if you care to know my stance on this.
Here have a meme instead, I saved yesterday just for occasions like this:
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(And to be clear, I’m using 'queer person doing something weird' loosely. I actually think being supportive of queer -yes depicting a character as trans or in homosexual relationships is queer art, don’t know what about that you didn’t get- and kinky fanart though more rare and refreshing is not a "weird"/surprising thing for a queer actor to do. And doing a comedy bit in underwear is not particularly "weird" or uncommon in entertainment ether.)
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quietwingsinthesky · 8 days ago
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actually wait i do have a fucked up millie fact to share for the night. her s4-5 timeline in my head have her becoming best friends with chuck (read: Millie keeps breaking into his house despite his constant protests for her to Stop Doing That. in her defense, the roadhouse burned down and if she goes to bobby’s, her brothers will know within the hour. she has decided this means they’re best friends, and chuck is kind of pathetic and weak and can’t stop her in any meaningful way.)
(in the endverse, millie and dean aren’t on speaking terms. they’ll fight together, millie will follow him most places, but whatever was there is broken beyond repair. that’s probably because she blames him for what happened to sam, and he blames her for blaming him, and it’s a whole cycle. but in the wake of that, she’s latched onto chuck to fill the void left by sam and dean, something that’s not working. but is also the reason that when future!dean says they’re striking out to kill samifer, intent on feeding everyone into the meat grinder to do so, past!dean catches millie and chuck preparing to run in the opposite direction and not look back. i don’t think he tries to stop them.)
the point of all that being that the s5 finale happens, and millie doesn’t see any of chuck’s half of the story. doesn’t get to know what happens to him.
she just finds an empty house. she assumes it got to be too much for him. she looks for a body, and she doesn’t get to have one. she leaves.
years later, his face is staring at her across the rooms of this place that’s supposed to be her home. and millie has spent these years running in the leagues of angels and demons and leviathans, and if she knows only one thing, it’s that that’s chuck’s face. but that’s not him. not anymore. what’s inside it was not her friend. no matter what it says.
#god possessed chuck conspiracy in my millieverse? its more likely than you’d think#she likes chuck. he’s a wet paper towel of a man who starts trembling whenever she starts playing with a knife in front of him#part of this friendship is unavoidably that millie has the urge to bat him around like a ball of yarn#also ‘friendship’ is a very loose term for it. chuck does not want her in his house. she scares him.#he can’t orevent her from being in his house. and he’ll get drunk with her because he’s marginally less scared of her when drunk.#but what’s going on here is maybe not objectively something you could call friendship#it still matters to millie though. it matters to her. she thinks about him. the world ends and then doesn’t end and when she can’t do#anything to save sam the day after that. she goes to check on him. because last time she called him he was scared.#he’s not there.#spn oc#god calls himself chuck and he references memories of her and millie reacts understandably like you would to someone who stepped#inside your friend’s skin and became them and killed them in the process#it’s not even that god/chuck’s lying. he *does* remember those things. he does consider them as *his* experiences. and he’s not entirely#wrong about that. like amara didn’t just possess a baby she became that baby in a way. it was just less messy because there was no life in#there that she was supplanting really. it hadn’t been lived yet.#god does the same thing to chuck. but chuck had lived. and then he stops existing as himself. and now he exists as god and god exists as him#he’s right. ​those memories are his and he lived through that. but millie knows that isn’t and wasn’t her friend. and she’s right too.#does that make sense? i think we can make possession even more metaphysical and overly complex and horrorific here. for fun.
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dykeredhood · 20 days ago
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I was idly playing with the ends of my hair this evening and remembered the one and a half times I had done that in front of my parents when I was younger and how I had ended up getting yelled at (or at least harangued for fidgeting or) doing something so innocuous
It was electric, once I recalled that, I enjoyed* a flood of emotions and immediately put my hands back down at my sides
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quannaix · 3 months ago
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One day you’re going to say something insane and I’m going to have to point out that you have literally never justified your reasons for doing this
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m4ndysk4nkovich · 1 year ago
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maybe some people will disagree, but i personally believe that to actually be an apologist/defender of a certain character you have to be able to hold them accountable when they fuck up
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tariah23 · 8 months ago
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Outside of all of… that happening to Gojo, and finishing Snowfall the other day, eek……..
#I can live with what gege did to Gojo even though it hurts so much bro#but I can’t deal with what happened to Franklin bro that’s one of the worst character endings ever omg my chest….#i meant it in a ‘that’s so fucked up’ way not ‘this is badly written’ because it really does fit his character….. even though witnessing#such a strong and ambitious character turn into……. THAT in the end… bro…………. not Franklin 😭…#his pride left him in ruin… the fact that he actually still had ppl who were willing to stand by his side in the end and help him but he#couldn’t accept it because in his own words ‘I built this shit! and if I wanted to tear it down with my own hands than I will-‘ like he was#so used to being in charge.. the boss… never taking orders from the people who worked for him… and whenever any other character would make#suggestions or decide that they wanted to branch off he’d completely lose his shit because in his mind they’re all stronger together and he#felt like he was losing control of the circumstances that arose and that ‘if only they would’ve listened to ME then everything would’ve#been just fine-‘ and the crazy thing is… Franklin was usually right 😭 like 90% of the time but it’s just he couldn’t communicate with his#friends and peers without blowing up like a demon just because they made their own decisions lmfao#especially without him/his consent lmfaooo he was a control freak for sure#so many awful things wouldn’t have even happened if everyone stuck together and listened but at the same time other characters grew tired#of being underneath him and it was within their right to go do their own thing like I get it#so many things were going to wrong in the end 😭… also teddy is such a bitter bitch bro#the fact that Franklin willingly decided to become…. I can’t even say it…#in the end over receiving what he’d consider a handout is insane…….. living like that? in filth because he’s too prideful to ever work#under anyone ever again even if it’s with a trusted friend… the money really blinded him but I get it#if I had 73 mil stolen from me out of nowhere by a bitter white man just because I told him I didn’t want to do business with him anymore#in the 80’s then I’d lose it too but ong Franklin was too ambitious to end up like this…#he kind of character you’d just watch and instantly think to yourself ‘this guy could go anywhere he wants. he’s no caged bird…’#so it makes his ending even more devastating……..#rambling#if you ever watch snowfall don’t watch the last episode 🥺 please promise me you won’t?
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altschmerzes · 1 year ago
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made an appointment to talk to my rabbi about the whole “my abusive dad who has been the boogeyman around the corner my whole life up and died suddenly and it kinda turned me inside out and jewish grieving rituals helped me a lot when my beloved granddad died but i don’t know what to do now that i cant seem to get past the death of someone im not grieving and don’t remotely want to honour” thing hopefully he’ll be able to like. help out there, some words of wisdom, some advice. trying not to feel weird about reaching out about it, i think this is what clergy is sorta for. probably.
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crttvset · 1 year ago
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idk if its just duolingo being duolingo or a french thing but WOW they REALLY want you to use pronouns
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deus-ex-mona · 2 years ago
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throwback to that time bilibili swapped the [redacted] anime subs with subs from another anime
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kanej fans listen to jim croce. especially time in a bottle and walkin back to georgia and i’ll have to say i love you in a song and i got a name and literally any other song bECAUSE JIM CROCE IS SO KANEJ CODED
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chastiefoul · 11 days ago
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how they'd react when you wanted to sleep on the couch... just because.
fluff. light-hearted ft. gojo, nanami, sukuna, suguru, toji, choso
satoru
“baby scooch over.” a whispered voice along with a gentle nudge on the shoulder woke you from your dozed off state. “hmm?” you mumbled out, blinking your terribly heavy lids open although to no avail they’re begging to keep themselves shut. satoru glanced at you with a frown on his eyes with a pillow held close to his body. “scooch over baby,” he pleaded, kneeling beside the couch you’re currently lying on.
“go back to bed toru,” you said softly, tugging your blanket closer. “but you’re not there,” he whined, intertwining his hand with yours as he attacked it with kisses, not letting you go back to sleep, especially if it’s without him. “i thought you said you’re going to be fine?” you asked, jogging the memory of him being all smug while saying you could do whatever you wanted. “that was not me, i would never say that,” he said promptly and goodness you didn’t know before someone’s lips could turned that much downward. you chuckled breathily, knowing this will happen sooner or later.
you scooted over on the big couch, leaving him the space he’d been begging for. you could have sworn you heard a squeal before you’re wrapped in satoru’s warm hold, his head resting snugly atop of yours. “no sleeping on here anymore. not without me,” he said into your hair, kissing it softly.
nanami
“but why, love?” he asked, having a hard time comprehending your wish to sleep alone on the living room only because... you randomly wanted to? you chuckled looking at his bewildered face, an expression of someone who’s probably racking his brain upside down thinking that he’s done something wrong. “ken, i promise it’s just because i feel like it and no reason other than that.” you cupped his face, planting a soft kiss on his nose.
nanami looked a little relieved, albeit sullen, hesitant in asking whether he could invite himself in or you wanted a little time for yourself. and when it’s finally time to sleep it’s becoming more obvious that your lover wasn’t going to make it easy for you.
“need any more blanket honey?” he asked tapping the head of the couch as he stood there a tad nervous, knowing full well you got everything you needed since he insisted to be the one to prepare it. pillows, blanket, a hot drink, he’s got it all for you. “i’m perfect here, ken. you can go to bed,” you said with a reassuring smile, yet it did the opposite effect to the man.
“can i be here until you sleep, my love? it’s just that i feel like i wouldn’t be able to rest properly until i see you do the same.” he stroke your cheek softly with his thumb, and when you leaned into his touch he knew he’s gone for you. that there’s no way he could be asleep if he went back to the bedroom in that moment—unless you’re with him, of course. though, he didn’t say this, he just continued combing through your strands of hair, loving the peaceful expression on your face.
and unfortunately for the blond man, when it comes to these things his thoughts were written all over his face. you already caught on the fact that he wanted to lie down with you there yet his wish in prioritizing your wants refrained him from speaking his. you laughed a little, feeling a burst of fondness towards the tall man.
“on a second thought, can you sleep here with me ken?” he moved as quick as the sentence ended, already making his way under the blanket. he sneaked a hand around your waist, pressing your body closer against him. “i was kind of hoping you’d ask,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. you snuggled closer to his chest, feeling utmost comfort as he rubbed your back gently.
“i know.”
sukuna
not even ten minutes in trying to sleep on the said couch, sukuna had already carried you back towards your shared bedroom.
“but-“
“no.”
he put you on the bed gently, then he draped a blanket over as he tucked you in. sukuna has that look of a man who’s determined in keeping you there, and you already knew it’s a fight you could not win thus, you turned for another plan instead: pouting.
even until he got beside you as he rested his big hand on your stomach, you refused to look at him, crossing your hands in front of your chest. he sighed, “give me one good reason i should let you sleep out there,” he said exasperatedly. “cause i want some me time?” you claimed. even you weren’t sure why you’re battling him so hard on this.
“then have it here in this bed with me. you’ll get all cold later and cling to me later anyways. i’m just speeding up the process.” he replied, already closing his eyes.
“what a strange way of saying you couldn’t sleep without me,” you said, with a grin on your face. the feeling of his thumb moving against your skin brought you immense comfort, your impulsive plan long forgotten.
“if you already knew that then quit making it harder for me, brat.”
toji
he stared at you who’s already making yourself comfortable on the couch, amused. “looking cozy there,” he said with a grin, a face of someone who’s up to no good. “yeah, it’s actually not ba-“ the sentence was cut off was your own squeal, toji had picked you up as he took your lying down position and put you top of him.
“you could’ve just asked first!” you fumed, hitting his bicep—which did more to you and it did him, how could one even get their muscle to be as hard as that? he just chuckled in response, putting a hand around your waist. “sorry doll, got too excited,” he said lazily, already seemed all happy, like he had all he needed.
and he did, with you close to him resting your head on his chest, knowing that you loved counting his heartbeat. the man was truly content.
“we really should get a bigger couch,” you mumbled. we should get everything you wanted, toji thought. but it’d be a bit much to say in the moment so instead he just continued rubbing your sides until you dozed off, plunging into the dream land.
“sleep.”
suguru
“whatcha got there baby?” he asked, an easy smile on his face. there’s really no day with you where you didn’t make him tilt his head questioningly. “’m going to sleep here tonight,” you said, fluffing the pillow before lying down on it comfortably.
“okay, where’s mine then?”
“your what?”
“my pillow. you didn’t bring mine along yours?”
“oh well i just thought you’d want to sleep in the bed anyway?” you replied, and suguru looked like you just insulted him deeply. the couch dipped, he then lied down beside you on the same pillow, making him extra close as he embraced you. “i sleep where you sleep baby, you make me this way. i can no longer rest when i don’t get to hold you close like this,” he said softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.
you have a big smile on your face as he said this, inhaling his familiar scent as you put your arms around him. “that better not be a complaint,” you said, cuddling closer to the man.
“never.” he kissed your temple.
choso
it seriously look like it killed him when he had to walk away from the room, leaving you to sleep by yourself on the couch. his steps were excruciatingly slow, taking as much time as he could in case you changed your mind.
“cho?” you almost laughed looking at the way he perked up, a hopeful expression on his face. “can you turn off the light on your way?” and it almost felt too cruel the way the sparkle on his eyes dimmed, his shoulders beyond slumped. he then practically had to drag his own feet before letting out a small nod.
you chuckled, couldn’t keep up with the teasing anymore. “i’m kidding baby, do you wanna get in here?” you lifted up the blanket, patting the empty space next to you. it was the fastest you’ve ever seen him, as he’s beside you in no time.
he clinged to you tightly, like he’s making sure as much of his skin made contact with yours, a satisfied smile on his face. his hair tickled your neck nicely, as you traced the area below his eye with back of your finger.
“next time you want something just ask, cho.”
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webism · 18 days ago
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the first time you bring gojo home to fuck, he’s like a kid in a candy store. he’s touching everything but you, which was the point of him being there in the first place.
“don’t touch that,” is said more often than not, because he keeps taking things off shelves and peeking into your drawers as he looks around.
even when you do get to kissing and touching on eachother, he can’t decide on which room he wants to take you in. he likes your bathroom, wants to test out your kitchen counter, appreciates the scents in your laundry room, needs to test out that couch… the back garden looks fun, and he’s not-so-secretly itching for the neighbours to peer in and see you take his cock to the base on that pretty sun lounger you’ve got outside.
you manage to get him to settle on the bedroom, though, which was a mistake because he’s already trying to get into your panty drawer for a souvenir. peeking under your bed to try and find where you keep those pretty little toys he knows you fuck yourself with when you’re thinking of him.
“just fuck me,” you have to plead with him, which you never thought you’d need to do with satoru of all people.
and of course he obliges, because he’s as starved as you are ravenous, but when he’s taking you from behind on that squeaky mattress of yours, balls slapping against your clit with every thrust of his cock inside of you, he leans over your tight body and hips at your earlobe before speaking.
“i love your place, baby, don’t get me wrong but…” he fucks you so deep you can hardly hear him right. “… ‘s not good enough for you. need to keep your stuff at mine, hm? move in with me.”
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kamitv · 25 days ago
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Your best friend Sukuna is a complete slut.
Though you’d never say that aloud—albeit more than true. That's the only way to describe him because why else would he be in your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your bed, with his legs spread wide open, fingers wrapped around his thick cock, and groans of your name leaving his lips?
Because he’s a goddamn slut, that’s why. And normally when you interrupt his… sexual acts, you quietly apologize and rush off as quickly as possible.
Yet, here you were, being ordered by your best friend not to run away this time.
“I’m not gonna repeat myself,” Sukuna’s raspy and slightly husked voice drawls out to you, eyes boring into yours from across the room, “Bring your ass over here.”
Funny how he said he wasn’t going to repeat himself only to follow up with a literal repeat of his initial order-
“Now,” He hums, his voice sending a chill down your spine.
You stiffen up where you stand, trying your absolute best to keep your eyes anywhere and everywhere else except for the hand he had stroking his cock.
Gulping, “Sukuna-,” He shoots you a pointed glare and you start getting nervous. “You can’t just… j-jerk off in my room and expect me to… to help you.”
“Fuck,” He hisses, your eyes nearly falling on him again as the low noise makes you fidget, “Fine, then get out,” Sukuna tells you.
Your brows push together at the audacity of him, not that it really surprises you anymore, “But-“
“Out. I’ll be done soon,” He cuts off, sitting back and fisting his cock at a quicker pace, eyes drinking in every inch of your still figure.
You didn’t want to look at him. Nor did you want him jerking off in your bedroom. But, you also didn’t want to leave for some strange reason.
Hence why you just stand there and look around your room as if you don’t know the interior already. Sukuna can’t help but crack a smirk as you stand there, his breath growing heavy before he calls your name— watching the way you flinch at the sound.
“Kinda’ awkward if you just stand there, y’know,” He chuckles out to you, finding you oh so amusing.
You frown, “Kinda’ awkward if you just jerk off in my bedroom.”
“It wouldn’t be if you came over here,” He snaps back.
You hate how quick he always is with his responses, something you still haven’t gotten used to throughout all your years of friendship. Swallowing, you just barely glance at the man, “What?” You huff out.
Your eyes were on his and his were on yours. Tension was vexed into his gaze, desire pouring out of his maroon shaded eyes and making you so utterly nervous as you stood across the room from him.
All as he just sat there, shirtless, tattooed and chiseled chest very difficult not to gaze at, large thighs spread lewdly, and hard curved cock twitching within his grasp as precum oozed out his tip.
You couldn’t help the way your gaze dropped for a moment, catching sight of his cock and the way his plump tip glistened under your dim bedroom lighting. His hand movements got noticeable faster as you watched and you drew your thighs closer together.
Sukuna lets out a deep sigh, “Y’know,” The sound of his voice makes you flinch yet again and you lift your gaze as though you’d been caught doing something wrong, seeing the smirk on his face, “You can come get a closer look.”
You bat your lashes at him, “W-What?”
“Is that all you know how to say?” He chuckles, “Hah, just c’mere already,” He suddenly requests, voice softening ever so slightly. “I won’t bite.”
And that’s… roughly how you ended up on your knees in between his legs. With a mouthful of his cock, you don’t even remember what’d come over you after you listened to his request and came close to him.
One moment you started shyly teasing him about being a pervert who jerks off in your bedroom and the next you were curling your fingers around his shaft and making your way down to your knees. Sukuna had let out a long shaky sigh as he watched you settle in between his spread legs, his urge to tease you dying off as some other emotion swelled within his chest.
He’ll never admit it to you but, he was shy. How could he not be when your soft hand begins stroking his cock like he’s just some kinda toy for you to play with—what’d you expect him to do when you look up at him and lean forward to wrap your lips around his drooling cockhead? 
Unfortunately for him, his expression gave away everything and as soon as his dick began disappearing into the warm caverns of your mouth, he was a goner. A hand was now tightly gripped onto your scalp, his breathing unsteady as he watched you suck him off with that pretty ass mouth of yours.
He’ll never be able to forget the sight of drool spilling out from the corners of your mouth while you tried your best to take him all the way into your throat. And his mind just about blanks when you move your hands to his thighs, push them further apart, and then sink down completely—your lips meeting his base.
Now that was a sight to see. 
“F-Fuck,” Sukuna stammered, the sound alone leading you to choke a bit as a moan attempted to leave your throat. His darkened eyes were seconds away from rolling to the back of his skull with how sexy he found the sight of your lips bulging around his thick cock.
When you finally do pull your mouth off of him, he doesn’t even get a moment to breathe before your hands are wrapping around him. He goes from leaning back slightly to sitting up a bit straighter and moving his hands down to one of your wrists, his lips unknowingly quivering.
Then a pant escapes him and you’re bringing your eyes back up to look at him. “Slow, woman—fuck, go… hah, slow.” He says hoarsely.
Oh the desperation on his face was priceless. Why ever would you listen to him when using two hands to jerk him off is all it takes to receive a slightly pouted lip and furrowed brows from him. He probably doesn’t even realize the face he’s making at the moment, too grumpy trying to take control of the situation to feel his features faltering. 
You coo, “Aw, go slow? But, ‘Kuna, I thought this was what you wanted?” 
The nickname you just threw at him has to be evil in some way, shape, or form because the wild twitch it invokes is enough to have your hands tightening their grip around his thick cock. 
Sukuna grits his teeth and you can see a vein popping out in his forehead—he’s so annoyed with you now that the roles have reversed, it’s cute. “Fuck you,” He curses, as if that’ll help him avoid the embarrassment bubbling up within him right now.
“Oh, there he is,” You purr, removing one of your hands just to angle his cock back toward your lips and then tapping it against your skin gently. “S’kinda hard to be mean to me when I’m makin’ you feel so good, isn’t it?”
He swears you’ll be the death of him. He’s never experienced this side of you, nor was he aware it even existed. All he’s ever known you as was his shy roommate who’s so unintentionally attractive that it pains him to be around. Is this really the same woman who was stuttering moments ago when she walked in the room and caught him jerking off??
Sukuna huffs out an almost bratty breath of air, “Stop… talking.” Just as he’s never seen this side of you, you’ve never seen this side of him and fuck is it hot. He’s usually such a big intimidating man and yet here he is literally folding and gasping to your touch.
You completely strip your hands away from his cock and then open your mouth, staring right up into his eyes as you whisper, “Make me.”
All that embarrassment and temporary shyness is gone within the blink of an eye. Sukuna’s stumbling up slightly to his feet and grabbing a firm hold of the top of your head, letting out a gruff sigh while taking his dick into his hands and properly aligning himself with your mouth.
His chest is glistening in sweat and his head is pounding, he was all nervous seconds ago for what? Because of you? Oh please.
It only took those two words of yours for him to remember who the hell he is as he then thrusts his hips forward and quickly fucks himself into your mouth. “That’s more like it,” Sukuna grunts, giving your mouth some mean thrusts as he forces your head to move and meet each one of his motions. “Fuckin’ slut, m-makin me nervous,” He admits hoarsely, his tone aggravated with you. “Who do you think you are, huh?”
You’re obviously too busy getting your face fucked to answer that properly but the moan you let out that leads to drool filthily dribbling out your mouth is enough of a reply for him. Especially when he catches how it drips down onto your thighs. 
Sukuna releases a pretty groan out into the air at the mere sight of you. He thought he was losing his mind before but now it’s even worse. You don’t even have your hands on his thighs to try and brace yourself or control what’s happening—you just let him have his way with your throat, taking things a step further and moving your hands behind your slightly arched back.
Fuck, he needs a picture of this. He desperately needs this display of you burned into the forefront of his mind for the rest of his life. Especially as he starts hitting the back of your throat and you purposefully choke against him. Sukuna’s other hand lifts to cover his mouth because he swears he almost whined.
Your throats too fuckin’ tight, you’re holding eye contact with him for too damn long, and if he feels your tongue flick against that specific vein of his one more time—
“Hnngh—” Sukuna moans, his grip almost bruising as his head flies back and his cock presses right against the very depths of your mouth, hips stalling with the way his orgasm comes rudely rushing out of him. 
Then he feels you swallowing and even though he was trying to keep you head still, you begin to bob yourself back and forth on his cock while he’s cumming and that’s when a whimper is choked out from his lips. Sukuna’s whole body just clenches and he’s letting out all kinds of sounds as his hand, now shaky, holds onto your head for dear life.
Even when he stops cumming, you’re still sucking and his eyes roll back, voice coming out strained. “S-Shit, fuck—stop,” Sukuna moans again, “Please?” Never in all your years of living did you ever think you’d hear Sukuna Ryomen begging you for something and yet here you are.
You steadily pull your mouth off of him with a slick pop, sting after string of saliva hanging in between his tip and your glossy lips. He’s above you panting for a moment before stumbling back to sit down on the edge of your bed again.
A hand of yours moves to causally wipe your mouth off and you don’t even know if you wanna tease him now or later about what just happened. “So, that was—”
“Don’t speak,” He cuts off immediately, his voice surprisingly airy. “Ever. Never bring this up again.”
You snort, “Promise me you won’t jerk off in my room again, first.”
Sukuna scoffs. “Tch. Whatever.”
Like the vixen you are, you begin to lean toward him again and you don’t know if you image it but he flinches ever so slightly. “Promise me,” You say as your hands meet his knees and you begin to lift yourself up.
His eyes go wide and he internally panics at the sight of you moving. “Fucking fine. I promise.”
Smiling, you move to lean over his tensed body and plant a kiss on his cheek, “Good boy.”
Yeahhh, his brain just powered off.
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lilith-projects · 2 years ago
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@snowstormserenade
i think deciding to love someone continually is like reading the same book again, but each time finding a different line that hits deep and makes you think about something you didn't realize before. and you decide to read it again and again, knowing you'll never get enough of it, knowing you'll always find something new about them to love.
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coweye · 5 months ago
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The Honda Odyssey
Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.
I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.
Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.
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If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.
In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.
Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.
So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.
One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.
Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men.  Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.
No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.
In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.
To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.
“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “
“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”
“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.”  Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”
You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.
You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.
“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”
“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.
It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.
Wrong.
You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.
Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.
Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.
Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.
Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.
For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.
Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.
You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since. 
You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.
In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”  
Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.
“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.
Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.
Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.
Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.
You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.
Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.
It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.
Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.
Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.
Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.
That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.
It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?
In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.
You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.  
Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.
Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.
“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.
Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?
“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”
“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.
The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.
 “I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.
Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.
“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”
You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.
Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.
“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.
“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”
“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”
Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.
It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.
You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?
The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.
One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.
All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.  
With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.
“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.
“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.  
Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.
“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.
“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”
“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”
You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.
“He say where he was taking him?”
“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.
“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”
“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”
“Can you do your sniffy thing?”  Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.
“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.
“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.
“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”
“You can smell him from the car?”
“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”
“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.
After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.
“What’s your world like?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“
“What did you just say?”
“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“
“No before that.”
“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.
The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.
“What do you mean if?”
“I…”
“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”
“I mean I think they can!”
“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.
“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.
“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”
“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.
“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”
“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.
“No – fuck you.”  Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “
He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together.  “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”
Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.
“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.
“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.
“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.
The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.
“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.
Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda. 
Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.
If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.
You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.
It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.
Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.
Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.
“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.
Yes.
You really do that.
You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.
“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.
“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”
The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.
“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”
Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.
The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.
The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.
The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss.  His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.
You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply.  Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.
He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.
Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.
You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.
“You sure you want this Darlin’?”
“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”
Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.
“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core.  “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”
Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”
You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.
“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.
Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.
You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.
Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.
“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”
You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.
“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”
He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.
The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.
You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.
You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.
“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you.  If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.
The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes.  Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.
“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.
You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.
You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.
Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.
“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.  
Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.
Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.
“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.
When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.
“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.
“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.
“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.
“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.
You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.
Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.
The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.
After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.
The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.
“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.
“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.
“Well, well, well.  Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."
Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.
"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone!  Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”
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