#I can’t stop watching this over and over

[mrsimpurity]

promiscuous - l. howlett

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 1.8k

cw: smut (mdni), kinda mean!logan, reader is wearing a thong, p in v, riding, male masturbation, literally the smallest hint of a degradation kink

a/n: based on this ask!

“where the fuck have you been?”

those are the first words you hear the second you walk through the door and a smirk plasters on your face.

mission accomplished.

busy with x-men missions and personal affairs, this last week logan had blatantly ignored you and your desires with all sorts of excuses - “not right now, doll.”, “charles is waiting, baby, i gotta go.” hell, you’d started to think he was having erectile dysfunction.

so, to spite him, you did what every other woman on this planet would have done - come home disturbingly late and see what his reaction is.

“at the bar with my friends… girlfriends.” you say sheepishly. it wasn’t a lie of course. that truly is what you had been doing - having fun with girlfriends at a bar. nothing out of the extraordinary, your clothes weren’t even that fancy - casual low rise jeans and a baby tee. 

well, your tits and ass were definitely covered and that was good enough, at least.

you turn to lock the door and bend down to get your foot out of your boot when you hear logan behind you.

“with your thong out? or was one of your girlfriends in a hurry when fucking you in the car.” he barks.

you try your best to bite back the loud laughter threatening to escape your throat. frankly speaking, you knew your thong was peeking out and were putting on a show just to spite him even more.

“oh, this?” you ask, grabbing the flimsy string that’s peeking out of your jeans and pulling it just to snap it against your skin in dramatic effect.

suddenly, logan’s hands are on your waist and before you realize it, he throws you over his shoulder, your feet dangling in the air as you cheekily smile behind him. he’s fuming, hand placed on your ass in a firm grip as he walks towards your bedroom and throws you on the bed. 

he grabs the waistband of your jeans and roughly pulls them down. next go your t-shirt and bra.

“i’ll teach you a lesson.” the threat entices you more than you’d like to admit, and you find yourself getting wetter at the thought of logan throwing you around and punishing you. he settles behind you on the bed, dragging you in his lap by your armpits.

logan pulls at your thong, making the string rub between your folds and tease at your clit, the feeling sending a shiver down your spine. you attempt to wiggle your hips to get more friction, but logan stops you in your tracks as he tugs harder. it hurts deliciously and you can’t help but let out a breathless moan.

“such a slut.” he groans behind you, grabbing a hold of your chin roughly.

“logan.” you whimper helplessly, devoting yourself to him in this very moment.

“don’t moan my name, doll. it won’t get you out of trouble.” he says, lying through his teeth. truth is, he’s unbelievably hard and can’t handle you speaking to him like that before he’s had a proper fill and taught you a lesson.

“come on. take it off.” he orders. 

you oblige, quickly getting rid of your thong and awaiting your next command.

logan studies you, standing in front of him in your purest form, and for a moment you can almost see the utterly obscene thought flash through his mind.

he beckons you with two fingers and you follow, kneeling on the bed again. logan rests his head against the headboard and watches you crawl to him like a lost puppy. he gets rid of his boxer briefs in a torturously slow manner.

“spit.” is what he says next, tone rough and unforgiving.

you hover over his lap, letting a globe of spit fall down and watching it slowly reach the tip of his cock. he smears the saliva and starts out with slow pumps from base to tip. 

you watch, utterly confused as you reach to replace his hand with yours.

“no.” he barks.

you retract your hand in shame, watching him rub his thumb across the sensitive head of his cock. logan doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your thighs at every single grunt of his, practically drooling as you watch him please himself.

logan hisses, head falling back against the headboard as images of you run through his mind, his hand pumping his cock vigorously.

you can see him getting closer and closer to his release, eyes shutting closed from the pain the teetering on the edge brings him. his pumps get faster and faster as he finally comes with a low guttural sound.

logan’s cum shoots out in thick ropes and you can feel your pussy clench around nothing at the sight of his seed leaking out of his pretty tip and landing on his thighs.

“clean me up.” his harsh words take you out of your trance.

you hesitantly lean into his lap, unsure of what to do. you place a teasing kiss on the tip of his cock and he hisses through clenched teeth.

“i said clean me up. don’t tease.”

you put your tongue out and lick a long stripe from base to tip while looking at him through eyelashes. he looks unfazed, gritting his teeth to stifle his groans under your warm breath. 

you put his cock in your mouth and lap up the remnants of his release, careful not to moan around his length.

your tongue runs over his thighs as well, licking the mess he made in his lap.

when you’re all done, you lean in for a kiss, licking the remnants of his cum on your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. just as your lips are mere millimeters away from his, logan’s hand grabs your jaw abruptly

and you freeze in place. 

“lo, please. jus’ wanna kiss you.” you say, desperate for contact. the throbbing of your pussy can’t be ignored anymore. 

“no. you can’t kiss me with that dirty mouth of yours.”

you pout at his mean remark, batting your eyelashes up at him. he stares back at you like he’s totally done with your dirty tricks and his hand reaches behind you to give you a gentle, but urgent slap to the ass.

“come on. you wanna please me don’t you?” he asks, pitying you. finally, you’re given a chance for a reprieve.

you straddle logan, grabbing the base of his cock as you hover over his lap hesitantly. his eyes soften at the sight of you preparing for the sheer size of his cock.

logan grabs your hips to guide you as you slowly sink down on his girth, every inch of him filling your greedy pussy. you let out a moan at the stretch and give yourself a few seconds to adjust.

logan’s small gestures are in sharp contrast with his words and behavior as his hand carefully puts the stray strands of your hair behind your ears. he watches your expression, eyebrows scrunched in pleasure and hands balled into fists at the delicious stretch of his length, and he begins wondering how he got so lucky.

with soft breaths, you begin riding logan, hands propped against his chest. your pussy is eager, sucking him in as you bounce up and down his length slowly.

you close your eyes for a moment before logan’s sharp voice cuts through the air.

“look at me.” he commands and you oblige, getting lost in his strict, but oh so beautiful eyes as his scrutinizing gaze makes you pick up the pace. you can’t help but moan around logan’s cock, the position you’re in allowing him to reach impossibly deep inside you and rub against your gummy spot.

logan’s tone is harsh but it makes you clench around his girth. he doesn’t budge, watching you pant, breathless, face red and eyebrows scrunched in pleasurable strain.

the only sounds filling the room are those of your wet pussy taking logan’s cock deeper and deeper.

“logan, please.” you whine out, hips tired as you ride, chasing your release. 

he gives in to your helpless demand and places his hands on your hips again, his grip strong and controlling - everything you need right now.

without proper warning, he starts fucking up into you, pace relentless as your tight hole squeezes him like a vise. 

your moans are incoherent, a mix of his name, futile curses and weak “i need you”s.

“come on, doll. i know you’re close.” logan grunts under you, watching you play with your tits as he fucks your tight cunt, his anger still apparent. you can feel the delicious pain of the knot in your tummy that’s about to snap.

“jus’ hold onto me, baby.” you barely register his words, already on cloud nine before his thumb rubs your puffy clit, the action eliciting a loud moan from you as you cum around logan’s cock, your pussy greedily clenching and squeezing him. 

“fuck, lo. please.” you cry out, unaware of what you’re even begging for. all you know is that you need him close, even closer, you need him consuming you.

“that’s it. ride it out. ‘m right here, baby.” logan reassures as you barely hold yourself upright, hands grabbing his shoulders for support as his cock abuses your sensitive hole. he’s chasing his own release, needing to fill you up, to mark you, to feel your warmth embrace him.

“inside. inside, please, logan. i need you.” you murmur desperately, lost in a world where the only thing you can feel is pure pleasure.

his thrusts get even deeper and faster, your words egging him on. with a grunt, he releases his seed inside you. his warm cum fills your hole and you collapse on his chest, logan’s arms wrapping around your torso as the two of you feel the cum trickle down his length. 

you shift in his lap and feel logan’s hard cock twitch, still inside you, but your tired body chooses to ignore it as you pant in his embrace, catching your breath.

logan’s hands are roaming all over your body, massaging, kneading and rubbing soothing circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings into the crown of your head.

“logan.” you meekly speak, lifting your head to look into his eyes.

“what is it?”

“i’m sorry about earlier. it was stupid.” you say, referring to the whole “let’s spite logan and let him fuck you into oblivion!” stunt.

logan chuckles at your shy apology.

“are you kidding? you looked fucking hot, baby. i just got angry thinking about those slimy motherfuckers at the bar staring at what’s mine.” he says, accentuating his words as he grabs the globes of your ass, squeezing lovingly.

you giggle against his mouth, placing a soft kiss on his lips. his hand grabs your nape and he takes over, tongue entering your mouth in a delicious kiss which makes you moan softly.

you shift in logan’s lap again and are reminded of something. 

you slowly pull away from the kiss, raising a brow as the corners of your mouth lift up in a small smile at logan’s voice.

“maybe i’m still a little mad. you wanna take care of that, doll?”

[inkedells]

cowboy!logan teasing his girl when he figures out she likes him sweaty and messy from work...

[god him in this gif has me scratching the walls]

pairing: cowboy!logan x f!reader

wc: 587

Cowboy!Logan coming home to you after a long day of herding cattle.

His face is shining with sweat, his scent deliciously musky. Not far off from how he looks when he’s just orgasmed, you think, despite your best efforts not to let your mind go there. Dark denim stained with mud at the hem, his boots in a similar state. Plaid button-up tucked into a fat belt, the sleeves rolled up his thick, veiny forearms.

Yeah, you’re gonna make sure he fucks you. As soon as possible.

“Missed you, baby,” He says with the softest barely-there smile. He slides off his dirty boots by the entryway, mumbling an apology for the mess he’s causing. “And I’ll clean that up soon as I’m outta the shower.” It’s said with a grin and raised hands, as if he’s expecting you to scold him.

But you’re too busy staring at his arms.

“Something wrong?” He asks, his smile falling as he walks toward you.

“Don’t shower,” You say simply, quietly. You meet his eyes and watch his confusion transform into understanding—No, smug understanding. There’s a lump in your throat now, but you swallow it down quickly and stand up straighter. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

He’s smirking, even as he speaks. “‘Cause I’m dirty. And I stink. Don’t wanna ruin that pretty dress.” He looks down at you, taking in the sight of your body in the thin, sheer fabric. Of course, you go red in the face at his words and his scrutinizing eye, and of course, he takes it as his cue to crowd you until you’re backed up against the kitchen counter.

“But…” He starts, placing a calloused hand flat on the expanse of skin just above the swell of your breast. “You,” He pushes his fingers under your strap, “Don’t,” slides it off your shoulder, “Care.” He rushes to give your bare breast a long, firm squeeze, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes you when he does. But then he pauses his actions to whisper teasingly, "Do you?"

You shake your head immediately, and he starts back up again. He plays with you, slow and methodical and loving, yet perfectly aggressive. Like a man. 

While you watch his hand, hypnotized, Logan is intently observing your face and subconsciously mimicking your expressions. When your eyebrows knit, so do his. When your mouth falls open, so does his. And when you’ve only just begun to lean in for a kiss, he’s leaning in the rest of the way, capturing your mouth with searing hunger as he moves his lips against you expertly.

He’ll carry you into your shared bedroom eventually. Make sweet love to you until the clouds shielding the moon settle into a low fog in preparation for the morning dew. Until you’re just as sweaty as he is, until the only words coming out of your mouth are "I love you," and, "Don’t stop," and, "Faster."

And it’s that last command which consumes him as he kneels between your legs right here, right now, stroking you over your underwear while he fantasizes about fingering you open. He'll take his time with it, do it properly, so he can fuck you as deep and hard as he wants to much later—after your greedy pussy is inevitably tired of the decorum involved with simply making love for hours. You’ll want to fuck, dirty and messy and rough, and he’ll wonder how such a sweet girl could get so drunk on cock. He would bother spitting the question at you between sharp, relentless thrusts, if he didn't already know the answer. Only for you, Logan.

a/n: my requests are open! gimme all ur ideas <3 also reblog to support ur fav authors!

[kachowden]

When can we get Loren content again?? I miss that big puppy 😞💔

||warnings: NSFW|| ‼️MDNI‼️

————- ——————

Thinking about Loren being a big dumb muscle puppy. You HAVE to let him top though. You have to. He’ll have a total meltdown if you don’t let him.

Loren’s the type of guy who can’t handle the idea of you doing any work in your relationship. It takes him so much will power not to immediately move you to the couch whenever you’re doing basic household chores. Which on one hand is romantic, on the other hand it’s super restricting.

So while you’re bouncing on his cock at night, feeling it bully deep in your guts, Loren’s eyes are dripping with tears. His cheeks are burning with lust and shame at the way he can’t stop crying, mesmerized by the way your skin shines with sweat and the way your eyes roll back with each rise and fall of your hips.

And he’s just whining pathetically the whole time. Begging you to let him take over, that you should rest, let him handle it, all while he has this stupid fucked out expression. No matter how much he begs and pleads, borderline crying from how much he “hates” watching you do all the work, there’s no denying the way his cock swells and pulses.

[00kittenz]

cry for me.

pair: bf!sunghoon ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, d/s dynamics, fingering, edging, dacryphilia, daddy kink

[ mdni !! ] currently suffering from severe brainrot thinking a little too much about being a needy n whiny mess for sunghoon’s fingers.. he gets off on hearing you whimpering and begging for him to let you come as he finger fucks you relentlessly, edging you until you’re on the verge of tears and just can’t physically take it anymore (◜﹏◝)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you’re on top of sunghoon, straddling his lap while riding his fingers in his bed, whining loudly as you hastily grind your hips against him. his free hand finds purchase on the slope of your waist, eventually sliding upwards to grope your tits— pinching and rubbing at your taut nipples. “fuck, you look so hot..” he praised, loving how dumb and fucked out you looked already, mouth forming a gaping ‘o’ as he pumps his digits harder. he watches as your body tenses up above him, bringing your shaky hand to your throbbing clit for even more stimulation; rubbing in circles at a breakneck speed. sunghoon already had two fingers thrusting inside your tight, but you were feeling extra greedy for your man’s attention tonight.

“more..” you yelp, “wan’ more please !” it truly felt as though you could cry, begging to receive what you so desperately wanted. instead of listening, he chooses to play dumb with you, getting more enjoyment out of seeing how flustered you get. “more what ?” he asked in a sweet, yet condescending tone, “use your words, doll.” he knew exactly what he’s doing. this only caused you to whine even more, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks but you gained absolutely no sympathy from the man below you, not even an ounce.

“better hurry, or i won’t make you come at all.” he warns, showing very little to no empathy. it took everything in you to be able to speak, it was like you were keeping the only breath you had hostage. you take in a few inhales to catch your ragged breath before telling him what you crave, “your fingers daddy.. give me more please..” his lips crept into an accomplished smile and chuckles at how needy and pathetic you’ve become for him. “this what you wanted, baby?” without warning, a third finger plunges into your sopping cunt. your moans would only get louder, crying out as you hold onto sunghoon’s shoulder to stabilize yourself.

“so fucking tight, favorite fucking slut.” he groans, feeling his cock stiffen from the way you were clenching around his digits, you lost all sense of control at this point—shakily thrusting your hips to ride out your stampeding high. “gonna come for me my sweet?” his fingers still skillfully working in you, pushing you further and further to the edge. “yes daddy, coming— gonna come !” you were all worked up, sweaty, and dizzy from the ecstasy that shot through you but that pleasure was soon denied from you as sunghoon withdrew his fingers, watching your gushing arousal seep down to your thighs. your mouth went agape, crying and moaning out to him why he did that to you when you were so close. how could he be so cruel to you like that? ;( again, you were met with no remorse at all..

“awwe, crying again are we ?” he mocks you for the hundredth time in a row, “we’re just getting started.. ’m gonna edge this pretty little cunt for hours, ‘til you’re begging for me to stop. did i make myself clear enough, baby girl?” you nervously swallow, slowly nodding to show your obedience, “y-yes.. i heard you loud and clear daddy.” he was going to have his entire way with you for the whole night, watching you grow weak and over sensitive as he brings you to the peak of your orgasm thinking he’ll finally let you come but only for him to stop and do it again. you see your boyfriend’s methods of foreplay as softcore torture but he sees your cries as the most beautiful thing on earth, a cure that remedies his corrupt, perverted mind…

my b if this is bad LOL, i literally wrote this so quickly and i’m like half asleep bye-

[pucksandpower]

Free Fucking Country

Max Verstappen x First Daughter of the US!Reader

Summary: the FIA needs a reality check — you’ve known this since they decided to punish your grown ass boyfriend for daring to say “fucked” in a press conference — and what better way to do this than by taking full advantage of your First Amendment rights … live on camera?

The Texas sun beats down on the circuit. You’re standing off to the side, watching the race from a monitor, arms crossed. There’s an edge to your stance, a tightness in your jaw that no one’s missed, least of all Nico Rosberg.

“You look like you’re going to murder someone,” Nico says, chuckling under his breath. “Who’s the unlucky victim?”

You shoot him a sideways glance, not quite smiling. “Not someone. More like the entire FIA.”

Jenson Button raises a brow from his spot beside Nico. He’s been fiddling with a microphone, but now his full attention is on you. “Ah. Still upset about Singapore, then?”

You roll your eyes. “Still upset? I’m livid, Jenson. They punished Max for swearing. Swearing. Like, are we adults or are we running a kindergarten here?”

Nico and Jenson exchange a look, trying and failing to suppress a laugh.

“They’ve done worse to other drivers, to be fair,” Nico says, playing the diplomat despite the thirst for drama you know is itching to escape.

“I don’t care!” Your voice rises a little, and you realize you’re pacing now, hands flying around in frustration. “They target Max like he’s public enemy number one, and I swear it’s just because he’s honest. They can’t handle it when someone actually tells the truth!”

Nico nods, clearly amused by your rant but trying to stay neutral. “True. Max does have a ... blunt way of putting things.”

“He shouldn’t have to censor himself. It’s not like he was even that bad. They act like he threatened to burn down the paddock.” You huff, coming to a stop in front of Nico. “It’s just so stupid.”

Nico leans back, crossing his arms. “So, what are you going to do? You’re not exactly on the FIA’s Christmas card list either.”

A slow grin spreads across your face, and Nico’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh no. I don’t like that look. That’s trouble.”

Jenson smirks. “What’s she planning?”

“I need a favor,” you say, eyes glinting with mischief. You glance over at the camera setup behind them. “Can I borrow your camera for a minute?”

Both men stare at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“You want to go live? On Sky Sports?” Jenson asks, blinking in disbelief.

You shrug. “Why not?”

Nico shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re something else.”

But he steps aside, making way for you to take his place. “Alright, have at it. Just … maybe don’t get us all banned from the paddock, yeah?”

You wink. “No promises.”

Without missing a beat, you step in front of the camera, and within seconds, you’re live. Your pulse quickens, adrenaline buzzing in your veins. The weight of the moment hits you, but it only fuels your determination.

You clear your throat. “Hi, everyone! It’s me, your friendly neighborhood First Daughter, coming to you live from the US Grand Prix. Now, before we get back to the race, I have something I need to get off my chest.”

Nico and Jenson are barely holding back their laughter behind you, but you ignore them, fixing your gaze on the lens.

“Max Verstappen got punished for swearing during a press conference last week. Punished. For swearing. And you know what? That’s bullshit.”

The words fly out of your mouth, sharp and unfiltered. There’s a moment of stunned silence around you as people start to realize what’s happening.

You keep going, voice rising with every sentence. “The FIA is out of control. They’re so focused on micromanaging everything that they’ve forgotten what this sport is supposed to be about. Racing. Competition. Passion.”

Nico’s eyes widen as he leans toward Jenson. “Oh my God, she’s really doing it.”

Jenson just grins, watching in awe. “This is the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

You don’t let up. “You want to punish someone for being honest? For being real? Then punish me too, because I’m about to say a hell of a lot more.”

You can see people gathering around, eyes glued to the monitors. You’ve got their attention now, and you’re not backing down.

“The FIA is so far up their own asses, they can’t see what’s really going on. Drivers are out there risking their lives, pushing the limits, and all they care about is how polite they are in a press conference? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You wave your hands around, the frustration boiling over. “I’m sick of this shitty double standard. Max gets penalized for cursing, but the countless times that the FIA has done something much worse? Silence. It’s ridiculous.”

By now, there’s a crowd forming around you. You see a few FIA officials watching from the corner, looking like they’re trying to figure out what to do. You don’t stop.

“If the FIA wants to keep policing language, they should start by looking at themselves. They’re a bunch of fucking hypocrites who don’t know the first thing about what it takes to be a real racer. They’re killing the spirit of the sport.”

Just then, you spot one of the stewards marching toward you, followed by two security guards. You flash a grin at the camera. “Oh look, here they come. The fun police.”

The steward, a stern-looking man with a clipboard, stops right in front of you. “Ma’am, you need to leave immediately.”

You laugh, leaning into the camera, making sure everyone’s still watching. “Really? You’re gonna kick me out for talking? Last time I checked, this is a free fucking country. First Amendment, bitches! Try to shut me up, I dare you.”

The steward’s face reddens. “You need to leave, now.

But before the security guards can even move, your Secret Service detail materializes out of nowhere, surrounding you. They stand tall, arms crossed, ready to intervene.

You laugh again, this time louder. “Oh, you didn’t think about that, did you? You can’t kick me out. What are you gonna do, arrest the President’s daughter on live TV?”

The steward looks like he’s about to explode, but there’s nothing he can do. He steps back, clearly out of his depth, while the camera continues rolling.

You take a deep breath, calming down just enough to finish your rant with a flourish. “So, FIA, if you’re watching — and I know you are — get your act together. Start treating the drivers like adults, and stop with the petty bullshit. Or I swear, I’ll make it my mission to drag you on the broadcast every single fucking race.”

Before you can say anything else, you feel a presence beside you. You turn just in time to see Max walking up, eyes wide, clearly catching on to what’s happening. He looks from you to the cameras, then back to you, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Without a word, he steps forward, wraps an arm around your waist, and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s sudden, unexpected, but it’s the kind of kiss that makes time stop, the kind that speaks louder than words.

When he pulls away, there’s a smirk playing on his lips. “You always know how to make a scene.”

You shrug, a mischievous grin on your face. “Someone’s gotta stand up for you.”

Max laughs, shaking his head. “Well, you sure did.”

Nico and Jenson are clapping from behind, both of them thoroughly entertained. Jenson leans into the camera, grinning from ear to ear. “Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N Y/L/N, everybody.”

You step back, still grinning, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The steward looks like he’s given up entirely, and the crowd is buzzing with energy.

Max leans in close, his voice low. “You know you’re going to get a lot of hate for this, right?”

You shrug, glancing up at him. “Let them try. I’m not scared of a little backlash.”

He shakes his head, eyes shining with admiration. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’m just getting started.”

[bpmiranda]

Could you do a bf!Logan x virgin!Reader and he's taking her virginity for the first time and his control breaks and ends up being rough with her??

Let Me Ruin You (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: loss of virginity, 18+ f!reader, dom!logan, established relationship, bf!logan, rough sex, fingering, oral f! receiving, slight breeding kink

It’s late at night, you’ve returned from an exhausting mission that didn’t all the way go how it was supposed to, but you can’t dwell on it. You know you shouldn’t. But there were casualties and the idea of how fleeting life can be is stuck with you. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t hesitate when Logan asked you to stay with him. Perhaps you needed the reassurance that you’re still alive, you’re still here.

Regardless, you have class in the morning, but Logan talks you into staying in his bedroom a little longer, right here on his lap so you can keep making out. It’s hard to say no to him, so hard to resist his charm and that smile that tricks you into his bed each time you swear you’re never going to fall for it again. Yet here you are straddling him, moaning softly against his lips as his hands roam underneath your top while you caress his bare chest. His cock hard between your legs and you subtly roll your hips against him for the first time. It’s a subtle action, but it says more than you’re able to given how nervous you are right now.

Logan stops kissing you immediately and he pulls back to look at your dazed expression and your swollen lips as you look back shyly at him. “Yeah?” He asks, his hands finding your hips to move you again over his shaft and you whine from the way it stimulates you. “Tell me, baby.” He presses, eager to hear the words from you.

“I want to have sex with you.”

That’s all Logan needs to hear to have you pinned underneath him. Your shirt has been discarded and your pajama shorts are tugged off your hips all while his lips remained attached to your neck or your breasts. The feeling of him kissing these areas of your body this way makes you tremble and you wonder if he’ll be gentle, but you doubt it. Logan’s groaning against your skin as he indulges in between your thighs, marking the soft insides with dark hickeys and you feel your eyes water from the pleasure. “Smells so good.” You hear him groan and you gasp as two fingers suddenly begin to touch you in that area you’ve been protecting, his fingers are sliding over your leaking slit as he breathes heavily onto your mound. “Baby, let me ruin you.” He pleads and you give him a nod, biting your lip hard as he pushes those two fingers into your tight hole.

“Ah!” You gasp loudly, your hands clutch tightly onto the bedsheets and Logan tongues your clit while he’s finger fucking you, knuckle deep in your cunt while he watches you writhe for him. He’s wanted to see you like this even before you started dating, he’s been absolutely obsessed with you from the moment he laid eyes on you - and he’s going to enjoy every second of it. “Lo-Logan! I’m-” Your legs shake warningly and he continues, bumping that spot that makes your head spin, smirking as you gush onto his hand with a light squirt. Your face warms up and Logan just groans in an approving manner, squeezing your thigh, it wasn’t something you knew you could do until just now.

Logan licks his fingers off and groans, the two same fingers caress your clit lightly making you whimper and he chuckles to himself. “Can’t believe you saved all this for me.” He says breathlessly as he continues thumbing your clit, watching your juices as they leak out onto the underside of your ass and deep into the bedsheets. Your thighs quake from the overstimulation and Logan just presses his nose against your clit as he drags his tongue over your slit, making you whine in response. “‘M so damn lucky.” He whispers as he kisses your lower belly and moves up to your neck as he undoes his belt buckle with one hand, the other arm holds his weight over you.

“Logan,” You whisper, your mind hazy and unsure of why you’re so nervous when it’s Logan, your boyfriend. You’re supposed to feel safe and ready, but there’s so much going on inside your head with the death of the mutant that was supposed to come back with you. You’re anxious about doing this for the right reasons, but you know you love him. You know Logan’s the only one who you would even consider losing it to. “Make me feel good?”

“I swear I will, baby.” Logan says as he removes his jeans and your mouth falls open slightly at the sight of his thick, swollen cock. His large hand strokes it a few times as he climbs back over you and you push gently on his chest. “Change your mind?” He asks as he softly kisses your neck and you moan.

“N-No, I’m just-mm-I’m nervous.” You whisper, moaning as his teeth nip at your neck on that familiar spot that he’s come to know makes you so agreeable. “Be gentle?”

“Of course, princess.” He whispers.

It takes a little while for his tip to push in. At first, he just teases you, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds so slowly and gently you think you nigh cum from that alone. His lips never leave your face or your neck as he’s whispering how wet you feel, how pretty you are underneath him like this, how much he loves you. “Please,” You cry, small tears rolling down your cheeks from the abuse your clit is taking as he simply glides the underside of his cock along you. “Please, I wanna feel you.” You hiccup and Logan can’t help the way he awe’s at you.

“Oh, baby,” He smirks as he kisses you softly. “You want my cock, sweet girl?” He asks looking down at you all riled up and breathless, his tip is nestled into the dip of your entrance and you pulse around him, making him growl lowly as you nod, pouting up at him. “So fucking cute.” He comments as he kisses you again, pushing his head past the rim of your opening and you inhale sharply.

“Oh!” You moan as he’s gliding into you against the resistance of your tight walls. Logan groans as you squeeze him, clad at his back, cry his name in a shakily voice as he stuffs you full of his cock. “Mm, feel so full.” You murmur and Logan shakes his head.

“You can take more.” He says and you feel a chill run through your sternum down to your cunt, Logan groans as you contract around him, and he flashes you a mischievous look. “That what you want? Want me to make you take more, baby?” You find yourself nodding, wrapping your arms around his neck as he settles his weight over top of you, sinking into you completely, and you wince from the stretch and the way his tip is pressing into your cervix. “Fuck.”

Logan doesn’t pull out as he begins fucking you, he can’t possibly leave your warm, slicked core as you mewl for him. His hips are rutting into yours, you feel him sit heavy inside you as he fucks you slowly and gently, just like he promised. Your hands caress his jaw softly as you make out and Logan’s got one hand squeezing your thigh which is hooked onto his waist while the other arm cages you in, allowing him to caress your hair as he makes love to you. Logan is proud of how in control he is right now, but it doesn’t last quite as long as he thought it would. “I’m gonna cum.” You whisper against his lips and he gives you a nod, feeling the way your body trembles warningly against his own. “Don’t finish inside.” You say without a thought, and that’s what makes him snap.

Logan’s cock throbs at the thought, the thought of cumming inside you, impregnating you, and he stops. “Are you on birth control?” He asks and you frown as you roll your hips, trying to alleviate the tension in your lower belly. “Are you?” He asks again and you shake your head, your face hot from the sex and from the confession. “Baby,” Logan sighs and his hips move again, but he’s pulling out now, just until his tip is the only part of him inside you. “Let me cum inside.” His cock thrusts back in entirely, slamming into your cervix and making you whimper as you push on his chest. “Gotta feel it, gotta feel you.” He groans as he fucks you hard and deep, faster than before as he’s chasing a different kind of high now. The risk of pregnancy, of ruining you for anyone else, making you his in the most primal way. You feel your pussy grow numb and raw as he’s careless with his movements, biting hard on your skin, pinning you to the bed with his weight so you can’t push him off. Not that you really want to anyway because the idea of him using you is quite erotic and it does something for you, it arouses you.

“Logan, we-uh-we can’t.” You gasp as your head rolls back and he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tightly against his body as he anchors himself to the headboard so he can fuck himself into your wet cunt. “Please, Logan!” You cry out, not sure what you’re begging for anymore and he growls. This possessiveness isn’t new, you’ve experienced it before out in the field, around the mansion when he gets bouts of jealousy, but there’s something much more animalistic about it tonight.

“Come on, baby, just let go. Let me show you how good it’ll feel.” He says, dipping his head down so he can bite on your neck, suck on that little spot where your neck and jaw meet. Your body arches into him, allowing a deeper angle for him to fuck you in, and you sob as your orgasm washes over you so quickly it gives you whiplash. “There we go, princess.” He groans, suddenly picking you up as he sits against the headboard without letting himself slip out as you straddle his lap now. “Promise I’ll take care of you,” He whispers as he’s guiding your hips back and forth along his cock, the drag of his bare veiny girth stimulates your sensitive walls and you nod, trusting him completely as you rest your forehead against his while he chases his own release. “Gonna make you mine, baby. You’re all mine, right?” You nod again, hot tears falling down your face as you him swell inside you and you’re so nervous. Logan’s head rolls back in pleasure as you squeeze around him and you suddenly feel it. It’s filthy and deep and there’s something so intimate about his seed being dumped inside you - it just feels so right. Logan knows he’s going to do it again tonight, but he’s gotta give you a moment to rest. Your body trembles as he holds you close, his face pressed against your chest while he groans and swears, his load pumping into you as he’s got you pinned to his lap.

“Fuck.” You breathe out, holding tightly onto him.

A stillness falls over the two of you as your breathing matches his own, your bodies shiver and quake as you sit in a post orgasm lull, lips locked in a gentle kiss. His hands caress your thighs softly as you lightly scratch the base of his neck, occasionally tugging the hair that sits there. “You okay?” He asks after a moment and you nod. “Sorry about that, I kind of got caught up in something.” Your face warms up as you whisper a quiet, ‘it’s okay’ and he smirks. “Wanna get on birth control or do you wanna keep it?” Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “It’s your choice, baby, but I can’t possibly pull out.” His lips attach to your neck and you feel him twitch inside you. “Too good.”

If he must ruin you, you suppose you ought to be safe about it. “Guess I can look into the pill.” You murmur, the idea of him filling you up with no consequences quite appealing.

The breeding kink in this was a last minute impulse, but I have a lot of requests for that, so the next post will include much more mentions of it:)

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened @pinkanonwriting

[seventeenpins]

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.” 

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens. 

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text. 

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play. 

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 

You’re at his house an hour later. 

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

[luveline]

Hey!! I love love LOVE your criminal minds content so much, especially the Hotch with unexpected daughter reader. Is there any chance you’re gonna write more for that series? I’d literally take anything, the comfort vibes are off the charts with your works and I need some Hotch comfort. But no worries if not, hope you have a great week <33

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Jack peers at you from over the furthest armrest. “Y/N. Are you grumpy?” 

“Do I look grumpy?” you ask. 

“Yes.” He pokes his eyebrow. “You do.” 

“My face is betraying me then, because I’m not grumpy.” 

“Mine does that to me all the time but mom doesn’t believe it.”

You give him a small nudge. “Your mommy probably knows you better than you know yourself, like, knows how you’re feeling before you do.” 

“But how does she know?”

“I think it’s because she loves you. She really loves you, babe. You’re lucky.” 

“So lucky.” He climbs over the armrest and onto the couch, smiling at you politely, like a friend he’s just found at school. 

You try to see the similarities in your faces. He looks more like Haley than he does Aaron. You look more like your mother, too. There are bits of Aaron in both of you, yours not quite as physical —Jack’s tame when it comes to expressing emotion, and you both talk in a measured tone. (Though your tone is coincidence or genetics, but not learned. You’d have to have known him growing up for it to be learned.) 

“Did dad tell you what mommy said?” Jack asks. 

You glance over his head but see no one. Aaron said he was going to get chips for movie night, and Haley tends to find things to do. “No.” 

“It’s a secret.” 

“Well, you don’t have to tell me.” 

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says. 

Your stomach feels not your own. “I won’t,” you promise. 

“Mommy says you’re here too much.” 

You nod slowly. Jack frowns at you as though waiting for you to be upset, but you’ve suspected she thinks so for a while. It’s not something you blame her for. 

Jack watches you. 

“Dad got really mad.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That must’ve been scary.” 

Jack drops his face into your arm. “No. Dad doesn’t yell. But he slept in my room with me.” 

“Want a hug?” you whisper. 

Jack squirms under your arm. You pull him toward you and try to divide your feelings into boxes. Embarrassed and horrified and a little annoyed that Haley thinks you’re here too much. Sad and again embarrassed that Aaron defended you. 

This is Haley’s house, and she never signed up for you. She’s never made you feel unwelcome but that doesn’t mean she wants to see you every Saturday. You're a huge new wedge inserted in their married lives, and now you’re affecting Jack, making his parents argue.  

“I’m sorry,” you say, suddenly flooded by a wave of hot, awkward regret. 

You knew when you found out that Aaron was your father that you would change his life. You’ve always hoped it would be for the better, but maybe it isn’t. 

“Jack…” you say. What is it about hugging him that makes you feel like crying? “I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

“It’s not your fault. I like you here. You’re fun.” 

“Thanks, Jack.” 

He looks up at you. “Will you stop coming over?” 

“I guess it’s up to your mommy.” You falter. “Jack?”

“What?” 

“I’m sorry if having a new sister isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. I don’t want to make things harder for you, but I guess I did.” 

“Mom says everything is hard now.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek in efforts to hide how you’re feeling. “I’m sorry. Um, listen, can I have a big hug? I just remembered I have to go help my mom at home.”

“You’re leaving?” 

“Sorry, Jack.” 

Jack gives you a hug. You gather your things and rush to the door to shove your shoes on, but your dad catches you before you can leave. 

“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his smile falling.

“I–” He makes you nervous, and you know your stammer gives you away. “I forgot I had to do the laundry for my mom tonight, if I don’t do it she’ll be mad for days.” 

“I’m sure you can make it up to her tomorrow,” he suggests gently.

“I better go.”

“Honey, what’s really going on?”

“The laundry is really going on,” you say, unconvincing. “I have to go, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, I’ll see you on–”

You open the door before he can finish or offer a hug, image of him in his loose t-shirt carrying a tray of sandwiches burned into your guilty conscience. 

—

You don’t see Aaron for three weeks before he corners you. You owe your great avoidance to his busy job, but it didn’t feel good to reject him, to refuse to make time for him as he does for you. 

“You!” he says, clearly kidding but not entirely where he’s waiting outside of your university building. “Beautiful young woman in the blue! I have some questions for you.” 

It’s so absurd for him that you immediately burst into shy laughter. “Dad, what?” you ask, hiding your face. 

Classmates part around you, seemingly unperturbed. 

Aaron retrieves his badge. “See this? I could detain you, but I won’t if you come quietly. In fact, if you don’t argue I’ll buy you lunch.” 

“You’d buy my lunch regardless.” 

He grabs you. Kindly, but grabbing all the same, like he’s worried you’re about to scarper. “Where have you been hiding?” he asks, giving you a quick hug. You feel tenseness in his arms you're unused to, hear a sadness in his voice that makes your throat burn. 

Putting a table between you helps marginally. Aaron pretends he doesn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him and the Hotchner house, and you’re more than happy to go along with it, until. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says. 

You press against a piece of soaked fruit with your spoon. “Okay.” 

“Haley and I are probably going to separate.” 

You bite your tongue so hard it makes you flinch, spoon scratching the bottom of your bowl. “What?” 

“We’ve been having problems ever since Jack was born.” 

You stare. 

Aaron is very still. He talks carefully. Not without emotion, but stilted, perhaps. “I’m not as good a father as I wish I were. And Haley sees that. Sweetheart, I haven’t ever wanted to burden you with the, uh, less than happy details of my life. I think you’ve suffered me enough. But I’m telling you because I know Jack told you about my most recent argument with Haley.” He smiles at you. “Honey, we fight too much. That day, it was about you, but it’s not all about you, and she doesn’t… Haley’s a good woman. She is. I’ve changed her life a hundred different ways and she hasn’t had many choices, and she…” Something vulnerable crops up, a wavering in his breath. “Sometimes I think she isn’t fair. She holds me to standards I can’t reach, no matter how hard I try, but we’ve stopped arguing about it so much recently, and I’m afraid that that’s… the death knell.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say softly. 

“I’m going to keep trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He drinks what’s left of his soda and presses his napkin under the edge of his plate. “But I won’t lose you, you know? I just want you to understand that you’re not the problem, and you never could be.” 

“I don’t want to add another thing to your levy, dad,” you say, still soft. 

“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, tied with your brother, of course. You aren’t a thing to be added to anything, you’re my daughter, and Haley might not like it but my home will always have a place for you.” 

What if that’s the problem? From his perspective, you’re not a hindrance to his marriage so much as a separate issue, but from your own, it sounds like you’re just making things worse. 

You’ve missed him, though, and you can’t argue that his reassurances aren’t working. 

“It’s not that Haley doesn’t like you,” he adds, reaching for your hand, “more that she’s unhappy. I’m sorry that that’s something you had to carry.” 

You often think to yourself that Aaron talks like he’s telling a story. He’s so calm and steady, the same as the feeling of his thumb on your wrist. 

“I’m sorry I stormed out.” 

“I wouldn’t call that storming out,” he says. “You’re too quiet sometimes. I wish you’d be upset out loud.” 

“I just don’t want you to fight about me.” 

“Honey,” —he holds your eyes, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze— “I’m always gonna fight for you. That’s what fathers do.”

[crimsonbubble]

mingi loves wearing jewelry right? imagine those hands with all of the rings touching you and those necklaces hanging in front of your face when hes inside you

hehehehhehehe

Rings of Temptation

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, hand kink, fingering, mirror sex, praise, pussy slapping, squirting *not proofread, just pure horny

[mingi has been all up in my head recently and I dont even know how he got here]

taglist (dm to be tagged); @sidusvenari @sugarnspice630 @ravenempress101 @autieofthevalley @linearities @wisejudgedragonhairdo @madiexuberant @mifuelarts @straytiny127 @yun-fangz @huen1ngk4i @juyeonshour @uniq-tastic @hongjng8 @miyaluvvsyou @everyonewooeverywhere

The state that your boyfriend has you in is pitiful. Sitting all pretty and spread out on his lap in front of his full-length mirror. Mingi sits with your back to his chest, hooking your knees over his to keep your messy cunt on full display for him.

Mingi ghosted his lips over your pulse point, laughing when you shudder. “Such a good girl for me, yea? Look at how pretty you are, making such a mess on me.” Mingi slips his fingers out of you, using his middle two digits to lewdly spread your folds. You whined as he shamelessly stared at your aching cunt, letting his thumb rub against your clit.

You clawed at his forearm, jolting in his lap when he roughly smacks your pussy. He laughs against your shoulder, harshly tapping your clit with three fingers before smacking it again. Your thighs trembled as Mingi plunged his fingers into you again, his rings pressing against your messy hole.

“Look at yourself, princess. Look at how your needy cunt squeezes my fingers.” The second you look, you can’t look away. You knew Mingi’s hands were big, but seeing them pressed up against your pretty cunt made them look that much bigger. You greedily drank in the way your pussy gripped his fingers, whimpering pathetically when his rings brush against you.

The thick metal of his rings is cold, making you quiver every time he buries his fingers in you. As you trained your eyes on the way Mingi spread you open on his fingers, you didn’t take notice of his sharp eyes watching you. “It’s the rings, isn’t it?” You blinked rapidly, heat rushing through you as Mingi finally caught onto why you were staring so fucking hard at his hands earlier.

“You like seeing me wear rings, hm? I bet you think about this all the time, huh?” Mingi’s pace quickened tenfold, his fingers curling to hit your sweet spot with every pump. “Thinkin’ about me fucking your needy cunt open on my fingers huh? Wanted me to finger you with my rings on, is that it, princess?” You nodded hastily, clinging onto his wrist as he abused your sweet spot.

More arousal continued to gush out of you and around Mingi’s fingers. Your body is strung so high, clinging onto Mingi like a lifeline. “C’mon baby, make a mess on me. Make a mess on my fingers like a good girl.” His voice deepened as he mercilessly hooked his fingers into your sweet spot. The pressure in your gut was different, it felt much stronger.

Mingi smirked against your neck, sucking more hickeys into your heated skin. He felt the way your pussy throbbed and squeezed his fingers, pulling them out and circling the wet digits over your clit. “There we go, baby. Just like that. Such a good girl. My good girl.” Your hips jolted off his lap, your nails digging into his forearm as Mingi rubbed his fingers over your clit.

He kissed up your neck as he slipped his fingers into your sore cunt, curling his fingers against your sweet spot and making more slick gush out of you. He repeated the same process; curling his fingers into your sweet spot only to pull out a second later and rub over your clit. You’re left a limp mess in his lap, soaked in your own arousal. It even managed to splash onto the mirror.

Your poor cunt is sore and beyond sensitive but that doesn’t stop Mingi from spreading your slick folds and watching how you pulse and throb around nothing. You whine and thrash in his lap, pushing at his wrist as he rubs his thumb over your swollen clit. “Just one more, baby. I need to see you make a mess again.”

[delilahsturniolo]

princess treatment (m.s)

➜ headcanons! (bf!matt)

summary: what it would be like to receive princess treatment from matt as your boyfriend

warnings: none!

written by: @delilahsturniolo

____________________________________________

୨୧ bf!matt, who never lets you open any kind of door yourself. you would unbuckle your seat belt and reach for the car door handle, only for matt to grab your wrist gently and stop you, shaking his head. he would get out the car, run to your side and open the door for you, taking your hand and helping you out.

୨୧ bf!matt, who buys you anything and everything you want. you guys are at the mall together, he watches your eyes lock on an item you want but you don’t say anything and walk away. he doesn’t hesitate to put it in the cart. the moment you pick something up to look at it, it’s yours.

୨୧ bf!matt, who switches shoes with you when your feet hurt. you and matt would be out for dinner, you were in a dress and black heels. you guys were walking back to the car, but your feet were killing you, it hurt to walk. matt notices and kneels down in front of you, slipping your heels off your feet and giving you his sneakers. he would walk the rest of the way with his socks.

OR…

he would carry you bridal style, walking to the car with you in his arms so you wouldn’t be in pain.

୨୧ bf!matt, who lets you sit on his lap while he’s streaming, working, or just relaxing on the couch. his hands would be planted on your waist, rubbing small and soothing circles on it.

୨୧ bf!matt, who takes care of you after you’ve had a long day. he would make you your favorite meal, run you a warm bath with your favorite bath bombs, light you a nice candle and give you a relaxing massage. he would take care of everything, so you don’t have to. all he wants to do is make sure you’re okay. then, you both would cuddle and fall asleep watching a movie.

୨୧ bf!matt, who’s always taking interest in your hobbies just to spend time with you. you guys would have spa nights together, he would let you do his makeup and hair, he would dress up in silly outfits just to see you smiling and hear your laugh.

୨୧ bf!matt, who always ties your shoelaces for you. you’d be walking on the sidewalk with him, and he spots your laces coming loose. he’d say something like “baby, you’ll fall if you keep walkin’ like that, let me help you.” and he’d kneel down in front of you, gently taking your ankle in his hands and tying your laces. he’d let you hold onto him for balance.

୨୧ bf!matt, who spontaneously buys you flowers, writes you love letters and more. having a bad day? you’ll open up your purse to see an envelope stamped with hearts from matt. sick, or on your period? matt would be knocking on your door with ice cream, a bouquet of flowers, medicine and a teddy bear within minutes.

୨୧ bf!matt, who can’t stay mad at you after you two argue. he’d softly enter your room, his heart sinking when he sees you curled up in bed, softly crying to yourself. he doesn’t hesitate to walk over and engulf you in a tight, loving hug. he’s wiping away your tears, kissing you all over the place and repeatedly whispering apologies, letting you know how much he loves and cares about you despite the argument earlier.

୨୧ bf!matt, who’s always taking you on cute dates. it’s a mix between a simple arcade, or a fancy restaurant. he loves bringing you to romantic picnics, bowling alleys, theme parks, or you’ll cuddle with him at home if you guys don’t feel like going out.

୨୧ bf!matt, who will never not be in love with you. he’ll tell you every day how much you mean to him, and how you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.

୨୧ bf!matt, who will continue to love you forever and always.

____________________________________________

join the taglist here 🤍

authors note 💌 : thank you all so much for 1,000 followers. i love you guys so much, this community has genuinely made me feel so safe and welcome. i can’t even begin to express my gratitude, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

- xoxo, delilah

© delilahsturniolo

[wolvietxt]

𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌!

pairing : logan howlett x reader warnings : reader has the nightmare, logan doesn’t know much about reader’s past, trauma flashbacks, hurt / comfort wc : 1.2k

the air in the room was thick, almost suffocating. sleep should’ve been a sanctuary, a place where you could shut down the world and find some peace, but tonight... it was anything but peaceful. the soft hum of the night outside didn’t penetrate the tension. the bed felt like a trap, the sheets twisted around your legs, tightening like they wanted to hold you down.

you jolted awake, gasping. the world felt too real, too solid, and you couldn’t quite shake the vividness of the nightmare clinging to your mind. your chest heaved as you tried to ground yourself, pressing your hands into the mattress, but the fear and memories were still clawing at you.

you were back there - in the past. hands bound, eyes wide open, watching everything but being unable to do a thing. the missions, the screams, the people you’d hurt... it all replayed in slow motion, burning through your mind like it had never really left.

logan stirred beside you, his body instinctively shifting when he felt your movements. he was a heavy sleeper in some ways, but when it came to you, the smallest sign of distress was enough to get his attention. his arm draped over your waist, pulling you closer, his chest pressed against your back. normally, the warmth would be enough to calm you, but tonight you felt like you were drowning in the heat, unable to escape the memories.

“what’s wrong?” logan’s voice was a gravelly whisper, heavy with sleep but alert. his lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke, his breath warm on your skin. “bad dream?”

you didn’t answer right away. you couldn’t. the words felt too heavy, too tangled up in the nightmare. your hands were trembling, and it was only when you realised how tight your grip was on the sheets that you forced yourself to let go.

“yeah,” you finally whispered, voice barely audible. “just a nightmare.”

he didn’t ask for more, didn’t press you. logan wasn’t the type to demand explanations. instead, he shifted so he could pull you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. the weight of him against your back, the solid feel of him, was grounding in a way that nothing else could be.

“you’re safe,” he murmured, his voice rough but soothing. “nothin’s gonna hurt you. i won’t let it.”

the words should’ve been enough. they always had been before, but tonight they weren’t. not because you didn’t believe him - logan would go through hell to protect you - but because the danger wasn’t outside. it was inside you, trapped in your head, a part of the past that wouldn’t let go.

you swallowed hard, your throat tight, and turned to face him. his eyes were heavy-lidded with sleep, but there was a sharpness there, a readiness to do whatever needed to be done if it meant you’d be okay.

“it’s... it’s not about right now,” you started, your voice shaky. “it’s the past. stuff i... i can’t forget.”

logan’s brow furrowed, his thumb brushing absently over your shoulder. he didn’t say anything, just waited. the silence between you was thick but not uncomfortable, the kind of silence that meant he was listening. that he’d listen for as long as you needed, without judgment.

you drew in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but the memories were still fresh in your mind, too close to ignore.

“i keep dreaming about them,” you admitted, your voice quieter than before. “the missions. the people. what i did before... before you.”

logan didn’t react right away, but his hold on you tightened slightly. his jaw clenched, and you could tell he hated that you were still haunted by that part of your life. but he didn’t interrupt, didn’t tell you to stop talking. he just let you get it out.

“i try to let it go. i try to move past it, but it’s like every time i close my eyes, i’m back there. doing things i can’t take back.”

you hated how raw your voice sounded, hated that those memories still held power over you. but more than anything, you hated that even now, after all this time, they could still make you feel like you were drowning.

logan’s hand moved up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in slow, gentle strokes. his eyes were dark, filled with an understanding that came from his own history, his own pain. you weren’t alone in that, not with him. logan had his own ghosts, his own past that bled into the present in ways he couldn’t always control.

“you did what you had to do,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you survived. and that’s what matters.”

you shook your head, pulling back slightly. “but it doesn’t change what i did.”

“no, it doesn’t,” he agreed, his voice quiet but firm. “but you ain’t the same person anymore. you got out. you’re here. with me.”

he said it like it was simple, like the fact that you were with him was enough to erase everything else. and in a way, maybe it was. logan had a way of grounding you, of pulling you back from the edge of your own mind. he wasn’t one for long speeches or trying to fix things with words. he just... existed with you in the moment. and that was what you needed.

you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly, not wanting to make a big deal of it. but logan saw. he always saw.

his hand caught yours, stopping you from brushing away the rest of the tears. he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath steady and calming, like an anchor. “you don’t gotta be strong all the time. not with me.”

that did it. the dam broke. you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, no longer fighting to hold them back. logan didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. he just held you, his arms solid and strong, letting you release the weight of everything you’d been carrying.

the room was quiet except for your breathing, the soft sounds of your sobs fading as the minutes passed. it wasn’t a loud cry, nothing dramatic. just a release, like the pressure had finally built too high, and you couldn’t hold it anymore.

logan held you until your breathing evened out, until the tears dried up and you were left feeling hollow but lighter. his hand kept a steady rhythm on your back, rubbing slow, calming circles.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than before, almost a whisper.

you nodded, your head still pressed against his chest. you felt the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the slow, calming beat of his heart. it was enough to pull you fully back into the present, away from the nightmare.

“i’m okay,” you whispered, even though you didn’t quite believe it. but you would be. with logan, you always ended up okay.

he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there, warm and steady. “good. ‘cause you don’t deserve to be stuck in the past. not when you’ve come this far.”

you closed your eyes again, but this time, there was no nightmare waiting for you. just the warmth of logan’s arms, the steady sound of his breathing, and the quiet promise that whatever came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

[writingrock]

before he leaves [1]

pairings: prohero! katsuki bakugou, prohero! eijiro kirishima, prohero! denki kaminari x reader (female) summary: your prohero husband is being called away to a two-week long mission. this is how he says goodbye.

notes: fluff, mild suggestive content, established relationship (married), prohero husband, it's just really cute and sweet, I can't say much more.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: for @onlyisaa becuz apparantly putting bakugou in a timeout is unacceptable

Bakugou’s been called in for a mission overseas. It’s rare, but when it happens, you know it’s something serious. The night before, you couldn’t help but fuss over every little detail. You’d double-checked all of his luggage, then triple-checked it. And now you’re pacing around the room with your mind running through everything he might need. You’d gone over his gear so many times that even Bakugou, usually patient with your worry, had enough. 

“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the waist and physically dragging you to bed. You’d protested at first, but he ignored you, muttering under his breath, “You need to quit worrying so much, you’re driving me crazy.”

Despite his words, there was a softness in the way he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but comforting. His frustration was just his way of masking how much he appreciated your care. He knew you worried because you loved him, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it. Even as you lay there, you could feel him quietly shaking his head in amusement, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk as he muttered, "My dear wife, always stressing." 

Still, as much as he tried to calm your nerves, there was a part of him that understood. Missions like this didn’t come often, and both of you knew the stakes. And despite the bravado, despite his confidence, Bakugou knew how hard it was for you every time he had to leave.

It’s five in the morning now, and you’re standing by the door, watching as he slips his phone and passport into his pocket. You stifle a yawn, your voice still groggy from sleep. “How long will you be gone again?”

“Two weeks,” he replies gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You frown at his answer. Two weeks felt like forever without him. Did he really have to go? Your thoughts are full of protest, but you keep them to yourself.

“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Bakugou lets out an exasperated groan, his head tilting back as he closes his eyes in frustration. 

“Woman, for the last time, yes, I’ve got everything,” he grumbles, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flick back to you, softening slightly despite the annoyance in his voice. “I’m not a damn rookie.”

You know he’s right, of course. Bakugou’s meticulous when it comes to preparation, probably more so than you are. Still, the thought of him leaving for two whole weeks on a dangerous mission makes your stomach twist in knots. You can’t help it— it’s in your nature to worry. And Bakugou knows that too.

He glances at you, and for a moment, his stern expression softens even more. He steps toward you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Hey,” he says, his voice lower now, gentler. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”

You nod, biting your lip, but he can see the lingering concern in your eyes. He sighs, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you can pretend he’s not about to walk out the door.

“I’ve got everything, alright?” he murmurs against your hair. “Except maybe for one thing.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You. But I’ll be back before you know it.”

Does he really have to go?

“Yes, I have to go,” he grumbles, reading your thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. You groan softly and stay wrapped in his embrace. Two weeks without him. His strong, muscular arms, the ones you’ll miss most, tighten around you as you press your face against his broad chest, nuzzling into him with a quiet sigh. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with his familiar scent— the mix of his skin and that faint, rugged cologne you love so much. It’s comforting, grounding, and you cling to it, knowing it’ll be a while before you get to experience this again.

“I’ll miss you.” You softly whisper in his chest to which he chuckles. His arms seem to squeeze you a little tighter. 

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, savouring the comfort of your presence. He’d definitely miss his pretty wife.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, still soft with sleep, linger on you with that private smile he shows only to you. His sharp features seem gentler in the dim morning light, and for a moment, you both just exist in each other’s company.

Wordlessly, the both of you share a deep kiss. An intimate mix of love and longing. His hand cradles your cheek as your arms loop loosely around his neck. Reluctantly, the both of you pull away. You sigh softly from the loss of contact. He keeps you close as he gazes into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The beautiful eyes of his lover. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours in one last, tender kiss before stepping back. You pout a little as his arms fall away, but you know he has to leave.

“I love you,” you say, voice tinged with a reluctant acceptance.

“I love you too,” he replies.

You watch as he picks up his luggage and heads to the car. Standing in the doorway, you call out after him, your voice echoing through the quiet morning.

“Text me updates!”

“I will!”

“And when you’re on the plane—”

“I know!”

“And call me when you get to the hotel!”

“Dammit, woman, I know!” he yells back, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.

Exactly an hour and thirty-seven minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him. He’s reached the airport. Twenty minutes later, another text arrives to tell you that he’s checked in. 

Two hours pass, and your phone lights up again with a photo of him and his colleagues on the jet. He looks as sharp as ever, though there’s the usual trace of annoyance in his expression. And next to him were sheepish looking Red Riot and ChargeBolt. His message follows right after: They were late. Typical.

You smile at his grumbling, imagining him sitting there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Even from thousands of miles away, it’s like he’s right there with you, sharing his usual complaints.

You watch Kirishima stretch in the morning light. His muscles ripples beneath his tanned skin as he works out the tension from his body. He’s seated at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. The broad back you love so much, facing you. Kirishima’s back is adorned with battle scars, each with their own battle-hardened tale. The scars stretch over his powerful frame and you feel rather tempted to reach out to touch them.

As he stretches his arms out to the sides, twisting slightly to loosen up, your eyes skirt over the fresh scratches running along his skin. Scratches you left from the night before. The memory of it stirs something warm inside you, and you can’t help but let a soft giggle escape your lips.

Upon hearing your fit of giggles, he pauses mid-stretch. Glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his lips. "What’s so funny?" he teases, his voice still a little raspy from sleep, but there's an unmistakable playfulness in his tone. 

“Just admiring my work.” you comment, referring to the latest addition of scratches on his back. He chuckles softly, replaying the events of last night in his head. It was a rather vigorous night. He needed that time with you, though. With a two-week mission ahead, he already knows how much he’s going to miss you. 

He practically jumps back into bed, sweeping you into his strong, muscular arms as if he can't bear to be away from you for another second. His lips find yours in a tender kiss before he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, planting soft, fluttery kisses along your skin. His lips trace over the bite marks he left behind last night, a reminder of the intimacy. 

For a moment, there's only the sound of your steady breathing and the quiet intimacy of the morning. Then, you break the silence, your voice still soft and hazy from sleep. “Do you have to go?” Your hand gently combs through his messy red hair, and he responds with a low hum of affirmation, his teeth grazing your neck playfully, causing a shiver to run through you. 

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “but I have to.” 

He rises slightly, hovering over you, his gaze tender as he takes in your sleepy features. His hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if memorizing every detail. He’s going to miss you—more than he can express.

You're the reason he’s not in the shower yet. The reason he’s still in bed, holding you close instead of gearing up or standing by the door. He’s prolonging every second he has with you, delaying the inevitable because leaving you feels harder than the mission itself. He knows he's late, that he should already be in the shower, getting ready for the mission. His gear should be laid out, his mind focused on the tasks ahead. But here he is, unable to leave your side.

He knows his hero partner will yell at him.

But how could he resist his beautiful wife?

You know he’s running late too, but you don’t care. Shifting up from the bed, you lazily loop your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his warm, broad back. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you settle into him.

“I’ll miss you,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent, already knowing you’ll be raiding his closet the moment he’s gone, wrapping yourself in whatever he leaves behind.

“I’ll miss you more,” Kirishima replies, his voice full of warmth. You can’t see the smile on his face, but you feel it in the way his muscles relax under your touch, the way his words come out soft and sincere.

What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. Six in the morning? He's definitely getting yelled at. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you loosen your grip around him.

“It’s six,” you say, a playful warning in your tone.

“I know,” he groans, clearly aware of the trouble he's in.

“He’s going to kill you.”

Kirishima just laughs softly. “I’ll survive—gotta come back to you.” His words make you laugh, and as you release him, he turns to face you with that toothy grin you’ve always loved.

Just as Kirishima leans in to kiss you, his phone rings, cutting the moment short. A loud groan escapes his lips as he checks the caller ID. He glances at you, a dry chuckle slipping out before he answers.

He doesn’t even need to speak— Bakugou’s voice is already blaring through the speaker, barking orders. You can hear it loud and clear, his usual demanding tone carrying through the room. “Get your ass up, Eijiro!” 

Kirishima doesn’t argue, knowing full well Bakugou had already anticipated this. With a quick tap, he ends the call, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. He knew he brought this on himself, but it’s far too early for all that yelling.

“You heard that, right?” Kirishima asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. 

You nod with a soft chuckle, still amused. “Yeah, pretty much. You should clean up,” you hum, playfully nudging him.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join me?” 

“Eijiro.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, finally getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. His broad figure disappears behind the door, and you roll your eyes fondly, watching him go. As much as he’s procrastinating, you know he’ll eventually get it together—because, at the end of the day, he’s always reliable. Even if he’s late.

Before you know it, Kirishima is already by the door, fully dressed with his suitcase in hand. The image of him shirtless and relaxed on the bed feels like a distant memory as you stand in front of him, sharing one last deep kiss before he leaves. It’s slow and lingering, filled with the kind of warmth that you’ll hold onto while he’s gone. When you finally part, it’s with a soft peck on the lips, and a smile as you watch him step outside.

You wave as he loads his suitcase into the car, and he shoots you that familiar, reassuring grin before the door closes behind him. The car pulls away, and the house feels quieter already.

Two hours pass, and your phone buzzes with a new message. You open it to find an image of a rather grumpy-looking Dynamight, arms crossed and glaring from his seat on the plane. Next to him, Chargebolt is flashing a sheepish grin, holding up a peace sign. You can almost hear Bakugou grumbling under his breath about something ridiculous, probably annoyed with everything around him. 

Kirishima’s caption reads: “Already regretting this trip. Look at these idiots.” 

You laugh, texting him back quickly, already missing him but feeling a little lighter knowing he's surrounded by his friends and trusted co-workers. He’ll be in your arms again soon.

“Five more minutes.” 

Denki mumbles, his voice muffled as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. He’s still in bed, arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he’s never going to let go. You let out a soft hum as your fingers comb through his messy blond hair, the strands wild from sleep and so uniquely him. His head rests against your chest, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you look down at him—the pro-hero you love so much, completely content in your arms.

But this is also the very late pro-hero.

“You’re going to be late, Denks,” you murmur, your voice gentle but with a hint of amusement.

He grunts in reply, barely acknowledging your words as he shrugs and buries his face even further into your chest, clearly not bothered by the reality of the situation. “Don’t care,” he mutters, his voice rumbling against your skin. He’s warm, cosy, and in no rush to leave. Being tangled up with you is the only thing that matters in the world right now.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You say that now, but wait until Bakugou gets on your case for being late again.”

“I’m not scared of him,” Denki just huffs, his arms tightening around you as if to say let him try. You know he’s dreading the inevitable lecture, but right now, he’d rather enjoy every last second with you. And honestly, you’re not complaining.

The two of you lay there peacefully, soaking in the morning light peeking through the windows. You’re already thinking about how much you’ll miss him during his two-week mission. It’s not often he’s called away for that long, but when he is, you understand. That’s the life of a pro-hero. And while the thought of being apart tugs at your heart, you couldn’t be more proud of him for what he does.

“I’ll miss you,” Denki murmurs into your skin, his breath warm against your chest as he looks up at you. His toned arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His electrifying touch trails in soothing circles across your skin, making you feel that familiar buzz only he can give. He sighs softly, like he’s already dreading the distance. At that moment, you realise just how much you’re going to miss the way he holds you. The warmth of his affection that never fails to make you feel safe.

You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his messy blond hair. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” you ask playfully, your tone light, though a part of you genuinely wonders what his answer will be.

He pauses, his gaze drifting downward to your chest, a playful grin spreading across his face. You immediately catch on, rolling your eyes and swatting him lightly on the head. “Denki!” you scold, but you can’t help laughing as the both of you break into soft chuckles.

He rubs the back of his head, still grinning like a mischievous kid caught in the act. “What? Can you blame me?” he teases, but when he sees the look on your face, he lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as if to reset himself.

“Okay, okay,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Real answer now.”

Denki’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes stay soft, thoughtful. “Everything,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “The way you smile at me when I walk through the door, the way you run your fingers through my hair like this…” He trails off, propping himself up on one elbow.

Looking deep into your eyes, his usual playful energy is tempered by the sincerity that only comes out in moments like these. “I’m gonna miss the way you make everything feel... normal. Like, when I’m out there, saving the day and dealing with all the hero stuff, it’s easy to forget who I really am sometimes. But with you,” he pauses, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, “you remind me that I’m more than just a pro-hero. You remind me that I’m enough, just as I am. That I’m just Denki Kaminari.”

His words make your heart swell, and for a moment, you forget about the two weeks ahead. All that matters is here and now, with him in your arms, holding onto you like you’re the most important thing in his world.

Just then, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful moment. As Denki picks it up, you glance at the screen and catch the time—half past six in the morning. Oh, he’s much later than you’d initially thought. It’s not Bakugou calling, but Kirishima instead. You can hear his deep, concerned voice on the other end, “Dude, get up. He’s already pissed.”

Before the words even fully register, Denki’s already scrambling, bolting upright and pulling on his boxers in a flurry of movement. The sudden shift from lazy cuddles to frantic dressing makes you burst out laughing. He’s rushing so fast that he practically trips over his own feet as he throws open the closet doors, rifling through his clothes in search of something to wear.

“How did you know I wasn’t already out the door?” Denki fires back at Kirishima, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while simultaneously struggling to put his clothes on. His words are defensive, but the slight panic in his voice gives him away. He’s juggling a pair of pants in one hand, sliding them on while trying to pull a shirt over his head with the other, looking every bit the chaotic mess you love.

You can’t help but chuckle at the scene— Denki hopping around, trying to get his pants on without losing grip on the phone or his dignity. "Because if you were, you wouldn’t be half-dressed and panicking right now," you tease, watching as he stumbles into his shoes, still fumbling with his shirt.

Denki flashes you a sheepish grin, clearly caught, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he finally manages to get his pants on properly. “I was about to be out the door,” he mutters into the phone, knowing full well that no one’s buying it.

“Tell him I’m—” Denki starts as he finds his packed luggage. Thank god he packed the night before. 

“Already on your way?” Kirishima cuts in with a laugh. “Yeah, you can tell him that yourself. You know how he gets when we’re late. He’s already chewed me out. Hurry up man or you’re next.”

It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the situation. Denki shoots you a panicked glare as he starts moving out of the bedroom. “I’ll be out in two seconds!” he says into the phone, though both you and Kirishima know that’s a lie. 

You shake your head, still laughing softly, as you follow him out of the bedroom. Amused by the whirlwind that is your husband in a rush. He’s darting around the living room, frantically patting down his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. The sight is pure Denki— chaotic, yet somehow endearing.

As he’s about to bolt out the door, you catch sight of his passport sitting on the kitchen counter. With a smile, you grab it and walk over, holding it out to him just as he turns in circles, looking confused. “Looking for this?” you tease, waving the passport in front of his face.

His eyes light up with relief. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Before he can rush off again, you grab his arm and pull him in for one last peck on the cheek. “Be safe, okay? And text me when you land.”

He flashes you that playful, electric grin, eyes twinkling. “Promise. Love you.” Then, with a wink, he’s out the door, shoes half-tied, practically running to avoid Bakugou’s wrath.

You lean against the doorframe, still smiling as you watch him disappear down the street. Even in his frantic state, there’s something about him that makes you fall in love with him all over again, every time.

Two hours later, your phone buzzes with a message from your husband. You unlock it to find several crying emojis, and you can already feel the laughter bubbling up before you even open the image. When you do, you’re greeted with a snapshot of chaos: a very pissed off Dynamight, glaring daggers at Denki, looking ready to lunge at him. Red Riot is in the background, struggling to hold Bakugou back, his arms wrapped around Dynamight in a full bear hug, clearly doing his best to keep things under control.

Denki’s sheepish grin isn’t doing him any favours either. His expression is simply the statement of "I'm in trouble". You stifle a laugh as you text him back. 

a/n: there will be a part two of this with deku, shoto and sero! I only had energy to write these three idiots xP

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

[wandaslittlebird]

Professor!Wanda Headcanons

I typically don’t write professor/student, but you’ll have to forgive me, I’m experiencing a moment of weakness.

Professor Maximoff was, by no means a well liked professor. Her class was infamously difficult, and most of her students found her cold.

You, however, grasp the subject matter surprisingly well. That never stopped you from coming by her office to “further your studies.”

She liked it when you came by, she told you. “It feels like I’m in here all the time. And no one comes to my office hours anyway. It gets a little dull in here with just me.”

Her office was simply decorated with only a single chair in the corner for students to sit, but as it started to become a regular hang out for you, a nice loveseat mysteriously appeared.

It got to the point where you were talking to her almost every day. You came in in between all your classes, lounging on her loveseat and getting some work done.

Whenever you complained of being hungry, or simply wanting a nice treat for yourself, she handed you her phone, open with DoorDash and her credit card information already loaded in.

She’s started to get very possessive of you. She sees how the other students and professors look at you. She just wants to keep you safe, she tells herself.

But whenever you have a one on one with another professor, she can’t help the way her body tenses and her blood pressure spikes. She’s always sure to stop by to inform you that after your meeting is over, she’s bought you your favorite lunch in her office. Better not wait too long. It’ll get cold.

She starts making comments when your clothes when your shirt collars hit too low and your jeans had too many rips. “I should dress code you, you know. You’re lucky I like you.” Over time, you amass a decent collection of very expensive blazers from the days you come in in something she deems too revealing.

In her office, however, you’re allowed to wear as little as you wish. Which is convenient because it’s starting to get very hot in there for some reason. She can stand the heat if it means getting to watch you do your work in an undershirt.

When she asks what you’re doing for the Thanksgiving holiday and you shrug and tell her nothing, she’s all too quick to jump on the opportunity. “You can come over to my place. It’ll just be me. We can make a turkey. Come on it’ll be fun.”

Thanksgiving break bleeds into Christmas break as well. And her guest room bleeds into her bedroom. Her bed is just so much more comfortable. And it’s a California king. The two of you are practically sleeping in different time zones.

Late one night, you hear her whisper “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” you whisper back.

“Will you still come to my office? Next semester? Even though you won’t be in my class anymore?” She asks, almost anxiously.

“Of course,” you respond. “I really enjoy being around you. Even outside of you… being my professor and everything.”

She smiles, but you couldn’t see it so well in the dark. “Good,” she said. “That’s good. I like being around you as well.”

She inches towards you nervously, but you reassure her when you start to move towards her as well. She wraps her arms around you while you curl into her chest. And you fall asleep in her arms, for the first time.

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: cute little way to end the night .. OR SO U THINK

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven

authors note: 😋😋 dont be mad guys im writing the next part asap. if you arent already part of the tag list, let me know in the replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

(pretend he’s wearing the same clothes stop)

Liked by 14,082 others

dstarkeynews Drew and Y/N’s first appearance in a year on September 30th in Santa Barbara, California!

View comments

user1 i haven’t heard about them in forever

user2 ALMOST HAD HIM

user3 I thought they broke up 😭😭

↳ user4 i think they’re on and off

user5 I remember them from 2018 they’re so cute!

user6 tbh i’m happy for them !!

↳ user6 i’m crying .

user7 y’all don’t love them like i do

user8 i was really hoping they didn’t break up omg

user9 they thought they could keep it a secret 😒

user10 WERE THOSE FLOWERS FOR Y/N ????!?$:!:! OMGMGF 😭

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you’re carrying a basket of groceries as you walk with leila through the area. there’s not much on your mind besides checking items off of leila’s list. and it feels nice not having to worry about anything because leila makes you feel normal, makes you and drew feel normal.

speaking of, drew’s just trailing behind you both, though he checks out a few things whenever he sees something he wants to try.

eventually he comes up from your left side and places something he’s bought into your basket, then takes it from you so he can hold your hand with his opposite hand. it feels so natural that you don’t even react, and even if you did acknowledge it, you don’t care.

“it’s so nice to just be out here like regular human beings,” you say, though you note that there’s always a few following behind you three but keep their distance to be a little respectful of your space.

you can hear them giggling every now and then or saying ‘hi’ to their videos that they capture you in, but you don’t think much of it. you think it’s adorable.

drew, however, is itching to get to the car and go home already. leila’s complained twice already that they haven’t completed her list but you’ve already bought everything important for tonight, so you just suggest you go home so both parties still benefit.

leila’s a stubborn one but she gives in when drew is pleading with his palms together. you laugh when she says she can’t stand seeing his “stupid fucking puppy dog eyes”.

when you’re done with your little mini-trip, you return to the car. leila is skipping over with two bags of things while you and drew walk together behind her, swinging your hands back and forth.

he opens your door for you and takes the basket from you so he can keep it in the backseat with leila who happily takes it, and you slide into the passenger’s seat without a thought.

“come on,” his voice pulls you out of the tiktok you’re watching, and you switch your phone off, leaving it on the bed as you drag a blanket with you.

drew’s heading downstairs and he dives right into the sofa, awaiting for everyone to come down already. you wrap the blanket around your body as you shuffle over, seating yourself by his legs.

he sits up instinctively and wraps his arms around you, the side of his head resting on your shoulder as you look around. only a few of you are there—you’re just missing gia and libby who, you guess, are getting the snacks and drinks. and you’re right.

“incoming everyone! don’t be alarmed,” libby says as she and gia make way with the food, and you’re in awe at the spread they’re providing.

“you have your homemade sandwiches—”

“that leila bought from the store,” libby is playing gia’s truth echo that makes you and the others laugh.

“assortment of chips!”

“that i got carried away with and ate half of!”

“can’t go wrong with your candies!”

“theo you owe me fifteen dollars!”

“what?”

“and lastly,” gia closes it out as libby runs back to the kitchen to bring over the tray of cups and drinks. you see oscar rub his hands together mischievously as leila practically drools at the sight. “our drinks!”

libby holds up a cup, “with your name on this complimentary glass that you get to take home after the trip.”

you woo as the glass cups get passed down, and you compare yours with drews while giggling about the free gift. you reach for one of the bottles and fill your glass with it, then take a sip.

“this is what you were working all day on while we were away?” leila asks the girls, extremely impressed by how much dedication they had to providing everyone snacks for her movie night. it essentially is just putting the items into cute bowls and calling it a day, but still. it made her heart warm.

you reach forward and grab a few of the candies and hand one to drew, hinting that you want to try it together. these were purchased by you because you were curious about the taste earlier while you were out.

“ready?” you ask him quickly as he already knows the drill, getting prepared to try it as you count it off. “one, two—” you lean your head back to let the multiple candies you have slide into your mouth while drew just pops his one into his mouth.

as you chew, you raise your eyebrows in surprise. they're really good, and he nods, a small ‘oh yeah’ escaping his lips as he sucks some of the chocolate off of his fingers. you reach over to grab the small bowl, then keep it for yourself without saying anything.

you and drew share a blanket so you’re able to hide the bowl on your lap while he reaches to fill his glass with a drink. oscar hits play on the first movie and you lean into drew’s side to watch the movie this way.

you fall asleep during the second movie, long story short. you can’t help it. but at least you last longer than leila, who fell asleep toward the end of the first one. she was the first one to fall asleep during her own movie night.

drew’s arm tightens around you for a moment, and he shifts to look down at you, finally noticing you’ve completely drifted off.

with a sigh, he decides to call it a night and he rises, sliding out from under you. you stir but don’t fully wake, instinctively curling into the empty spot left by his body.

he hesitates, but then scoops you up gently. you don’t wake up even a bit while your head rests against his chest and he carries you upstairs to the guest room.

the room is already dimly lit by the moonlight filtering in through the windows. he carefully lays you down on the bed, your body finding the most comfortable position as he covers you with the blanket. your breathing is steady as you fall deeper into sleep, and he stands there for a moment, watching you in the soft light, before he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against your leg as he retrieves his phone from his back pocket.

for the first time all day, drew unlocks his phone, the screen lighting up with a shit ton of notifications. missed calls, texts, and a few unread emails flash across the screen, and he scrolls through them with a frown, trying to catch up.

as he gets back up to return to his side of the bed, he swipes through several messages, most of them from his close friends—some teasing, some concerned—before he pauses on one that makes his heart sink.

his eyes narrow, his thumb hovering over the text as his mind races. he was expecting a couple of messages, but not this. not this many. his phone buzzes again, a few more messages lighting up the screen, and he rubs a hand across his face, letting out a quiet, frustrated breath.

his gaze flickers to you again, making sure you’re still fast asleep. the last thing he wants is to wake you up with this, but he glances back down at his phone.

he presses the power button on his phone with a little more force than necessary, the screen going black, then he tosses the phone onto the nightstand with a dull thud. he quickly winces when the sound is a little louder than he expected.

his heart skips a beat when you stir, your eyes fluttering open just slightly, still half-asleep.

“star?” you mumble softly, the name slipping out instinctively.

drew freezes, his gaze immediately shifting to you as you shift under the covers. he forces a smile, leaning forward a little, his voice low and soothing. “sorry,” he murmurs. “just dropped my phone. go back to sleep, okay?”

you blink at him, your eyes barely open, but you manage a small nod, already too drowsy to fully process what’s going on. you can’t read that he’s just lied to you.

“mmf, okay…” you mumble, your body curling into the pillow as you drift back into sleep.

he lets out a quiet sigh of relief, watching as your breathing evens out again. for a moment, the tension in his chest eases, but only just. he leans back, letting his head rest against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before turning off the bedside lamp.

as the darkness settles around him, the weight of everything presses down harder, and he turns onto his side, facing you. the soft glow of moonlight still filters through the window, and you look so . . . peaceful.

he stays like that for a while, watching you sleep, his mind swirling with thoughts he can’t quiet.

but eventually, drew pulls the blanket up over his shoulder and closes his eyes, trying to shut out the noise in his head and go to sleep.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey

[girliemattitude]

— - Horny Text - — M.S - —

A/N:Just a little something I wrote based on this thought I had…Hope you enjoy :)

A/N(2): This is my work please don’t steal it <3

………………………………………………………………………………….……………………

The night had started off so casually— a relaxed hangout with friends, some laughter, and just the right amount of banter to keep things interesting. Nick and Chris were in their usual goofy mode, while Matt was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter scrolling through his phone. He looked so chill and laid back that you just had to mess with him—You smirked, eyes narrowing as you typed out a message that was just a little too bold for the current setting. You knew exactly what you were doing. You hit send, leaned back into the couch, and waited, a moment later, you saw him pause, eyes fixed on his phone. His fingers stopped moving, his whole body going still as he processed the message.

“I need you so bad”

“Like I can’t stop thinking about your hands on my body, the way you can make me squirm by the slightest of touch”

His brows furrowed slightly, and then his lips parted just a bit in surprise, he swallowed hard, blinking a few times as he tried to recover. He brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit you’d noticed before, and it only confirmed that you’d gotten under his skin. His eyes darted toward his brothers, making sure they were still wrapped up in their own conversation, and then back to his phone. You could see the exact moment it hit him—when the meaning behind your words sank in, you had him right where you wanted. His relaxed posture stiffened, and he gave the screen a second glance, clearly surprised by what you’d written. He thought he could play it cool, but you knew better.

Matt glanced up from his phone, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as his eyes locked with yours, his lips twitched into a half-smile, the kind that made your stomach flip, his hand tightened around his phone as he kept his eyes on yours, letting you know he was fully in the game now.

His response came through a second later, the vibration buzzing in your pocket. You slid your phone out just enough to read it, making sure to keep your face neutral despite the heat rising in your chest.

“You serious wanna do this? You’re trying to get me all riled up or what?”

You looked down at the text, biting your lip to suppress a laugh. Of course, you were serious. That was the fun part. You glanced over at him, watching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still trying to compose himself, you could see the flush creeping up his neck as he waited for your response.

You didn’t leave him waiting long. Your reply was quick, direct, pushing him just a little further.

“I just really need you right now… Or maybe I just really like teasing you and seeing how you’re try to keep it together.”

Matt’s eyes flickered toward his phone again, his reaction was instant. His eyes widened, he bit his lip and he stared at his phone for a long moment, his face turning a shade darker. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to keep his cool. His eyes flicked up again, meeting yours, and this time, the look he gave you was filled with disbelief, heat, and a hint of frustration, you could tell he was barely holding it together.

His brothers and friends were still deep in their conversation, completely unaware of the silent, heated exchange happening just a few feet away from them.He brought the phone down to his side, as if distancing himself from the message would help him think straight, but the damage was done. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he knew it too.

His phone buzzed again in his hand…

“What if I’d tell you I’m wearing those panties you like”

You saw him glance at your text, his eyes darted back to you, and you shared a look that felt electric. There was no going back now—he was fully locked in. It felt like you and Matt were in your own little world at that moment.

He stared at you for a beat too long, his expression flickering between flustered and something much more. The tension was thick, and every time his eyes met yours, it was like a silent dare to keep going, to see just how far you could push him.

Your phone buzzed once again and you glanced down to see his reply.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.You might not feel so bold later.”

You could practically hear the challenge in his voice, even though he wasn’t speaking aloud. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his again, and this time it was more intense, heavy. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but he held back, he shifted, leaning against the counter, his posture tense as he tried to ground himself. His eyes kept flicking back to his phone, then to you. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at you every few seconds, like he was waiting for you to do something—anything—that would break the fragile balance he was trying so hard to keep.

You could see his struggle clear as day. His lips parted slightly, his breathing shallow, and his fingers twitched around his phone like he was dying to send another message but didn’t trust himself to stay subtle.

Chris called out to him, bringing him back to reality, he straighten up quickly. “Are you bringing those chips or what?” his brother asked, laughing like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Matt blinked, shaking his head as if trying to clear it, he shot you a warning look before he replied to Chris “Yeah, uh, on it,” he mumbled, though his voice was a little rough, like he’d been holding his breath. He quickly grabbed the snacks and walked over to the couch, sitting down next to you, his leg brushing against yours as he did.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, his body tense even though he was trying to act casual. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, and whispered, “You really think you’re so slick, huh? You think you can just act like a little brat and tease me like that, with everyone around?”

Your pulse quickened at his words, you fought to keep a straight face, though the flush rising to your cheeks was impossible to hide. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye—“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said innocently, but your smirk gave you away

Matt’s eyes darkened, and you could feel the tension ratchet up between you two as he shifted even closer. His thigh pressed against yours now, the warmth of his body seeping into you, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip.

“You’re pushing it sweetheart” he whispered, his voice low and rough. His hand rested on the back of the couch behind you, his fingers brushing against your shoulder in a way that made your skin tingle. “keep this up and you’ll regret it.” The anticipation was building, and you knew he wasn’t bluffing. Your breath hitched at his words, and you felt a flush creep up your neck, but you held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Is that a threat or a promise?” Matt’s eyes darkened even further, and for a second, it felt like the entire room disappeared, the laughter and noise from the rest fading into the background as the space between you two crackled with energy. He shifted closer still, his arm now resting fully behind you, his lips just inches from your ear.

“It’s a fact,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, making your whole body heat up in response. “You wanna keep teasing? Fine, you’ve been warned, I won’t holdback tonight.”

You suppressed a shiver, the thrill of the moment coursing through you. Matt’s hand slipped behind you, his fingers lightly grazing your back, sending another shiver down your spine. You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow, but he only grinned, his expression full of unspoken promises. He leaned in just a little more, his voice low, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’m gonna leave you so fucked out and dumbfounded, you won’t be able to handle it”, He said before he chuckled dryly.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as your body responded to his words. The thought of what was going to happen when everyone else left, when you two were finally alone, sent a wave of anticipation through you. You could already tell that Matt wasn’t going to let this little game end easily—and neither were you.

As the night wore on, the shared glances between you and Matt grew more frequent, more charged. Every time his hand brushed against yours, every time his knee pressed against your leg, the tension between you two intensified. It was, an unspoken agreement that when the night ended and everyone else went home, things were going to get a lot more intense.

[borathae]

BTS Reaction to: Cock Warming

Gender: neutral

Warnings: Smut, additional warnings per member, sidenote: girlcock=strap or trans girl dick so this is truly for everyone

Wordcount: 2k

a/n: big shoutout to anonie. This one’s for you 🤪 love you besties as much as i love cock warming 💗

Namjoon

Warnings: consensual somnophilia, implied creampies

Receiving 

Needs it when you are half asleep. It’s summer, the bedroom is hot and your bodies are naked. Your back is facing him, you are so close to falling asleep and Namjoon can’t stop looking at you. He isn’t normally like this with you, but his eyes can’t stop brushing over your middle and what lies there for him. Your perfect hole. So sweet and soft and empty. Namjoon goes a little crazy not being inside, fuck, he needs you tonight. His cock is already hard from the view of you, brushing against you as he rolls over to spoon you. You purr sleepily, chasing him instinctively which only makes it harder for him not to want to be inside.

“Baby, can I warm my cock in you?” 

You’d croak a sleepy hum of consent, whimpering softly when moments later, he sinks his lubey girth into you. Your sleepy hips try to wiggle but he stops you.

“Relax, just relax. Let me do it at my pace, okay?”

You fall asleep only warming his cock, but wake up with a cum creamed hole, begging Namjoon for the details. 

Giving 

Definitely also likes it when you do it to him half asleep. But his favourite is during cuddle dates in front of the TV. You are sharing a blanket, spooning with your pants off. You are inside him balls deep while Namjoon is slowly getting more and more riled up. The movie is good and you are both honestly watching, but The Needy works in easy ways. It’s a lot hotter to have you inside him than Namjoon anticipated for. Halfway through the second half of the movie, he’d crane his neck and call your attention by kissing your jawline.

“Hm?” 

“I can’t concentrate, please just…”

“Fucking finally, I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been literally losing my mind for an hour”, you confess and thrust into him, dragging a guttural moan out of him.

Seokjin

Warnings: subby!Seokjin, sex while he games, finger sucking, nipple play

Receiving

This is a game to him. Quite literally. You and he made a bet. If he manages to beat this silly PC game while you are on his cock, he gets treated to a day at the amusement park. The only rule? He is not allowed to move or move you, otherwise he loses and you are the one getting an all expenses paid amusement park day. He thinks it easy, until he realises that your warm, wet walls are certain brain scramblers. He messes up constantly and blames you for it. 

“What’s the matter? Can’t beat the game?” you ask, making it just that teeny bit harder for him by clenching down on him. Just enough that he has to inhale sharply.

“Obviously, you can see how shit-”

“Careful, no cursing.”

He purses his pillowy lips, glaring at you, “aren’t you already doing enough by sitting on me? I can’t even curse now?” 

You’d giggle, “nope.”

“Baby seriously, don’t laugh I’ll- fuck! I fucking lost again!”

“Language, baby.” 

“I'll give you language once I win and, and pound you on this stupid…couch…jump, let’s go! Yes! That’s it Seokjin, keep jumping!” 

Receiving

What if I’m boring and I’ll say that it’s the same scenario but flipped? He’d be the one sitting on you and having to beat a game while you are inside him to the fucking hilt. Definitely a reverse cowboy situation so you can inspect his stuffed hole or fondle with his dick or nipples. You know, just for extra hurdles. Bonus points that when he starts cursing, you’ll simply silence him by stuffing his mouth with your fingers and making him suck them. Oh lord, he will not win any game that day. He’ll end up doggy style on the ground while you pound him stupid in front of the “You Lose” screen. Afterwards you take him for ice cream and a calm carousel ride where he’ll say something stupid like “You pound me like a maniac and now you’re taking me out for ice cream? I feel like your whore for real.” 

“Just shut up and eat your ice cream, you stupid loser you.”

Yoongi

Warnings: switch!Yoongi, studio sex, whiny!Yoongi, slight somnophilia

Receiving

It definitely happens when he is “busy”. He’s been holed up in his studio for far too long and has been unknowingly neglecting you. You are always welcome in his studio, so he definitely wouldn’t complain about your visit. You are also always welcome on his lap, so he wouldn’t comment on it when you make yourself comfortable on it. He would definitely say something though once you start kissing his neck and grind on him, but overall, he’d act nonchalant. He’d probably even act like this once you really sink him into you. Only a sharp intake of breath lets you know that he likes it. Maybe he’d also purr deeply and give your butt a squeeze. He definitely enjoys it when you sink him totally soft so he can grow hard inside you. He wouldn’t let it show, but he loves it when you visit him for some cock warming. You are so warm and wet and soft around him, Yoongi’s obsessed with it. Definitely the type of guy to hold out for long, but to really be rough with you once his composure breaks. 

Giving 

Hates it. Hates it. Hates it. Not actually, but he hates it because he wants to move but isn’t allowed to :( that’s so stupid! He’d try to warm your heart with neck kisses and breathy begs and promises of oral sex. But to no avail, he is ordered to sit still and be patient. Yoongi hates being patient :( Definitely the type of guy to try and get away with hip wiggles, which earns him a spank. He’ll complain and whine and say that he doesn’t like it, but he is leaking so much and squeezing you so needily that his lies are so obvious. He loves it, there is no denying that. 100% the kinda guy that gets so riled up by it that he cums within seconds once you really move, begging you to keep going even if his little hole is tight.

Also sidenote: sometimes when he is feeling needy for a stuffed hole but he is too sleepy to move, he asks you to cock warm him as he falls asleep. He wakes up with a raging boner and the most desperate case of The Hornys the next morning though. Definitely bounces on you that morning even if he’s normally a pillow prince.

Hoseok

Warnings: creampie, multiple rounds

Receiving

Post nut, balls deep, sweaty and hot. That’s his favourite. He’d cock warm you to make sure that his release stays oh so deep inside you. He also loves it because you are twitching and throbbing from your afterglow. Sidenote: Growing soft inside you is his ultimate afterglow. Wow, it’s almost just as good as cumming inside you. Yep, in conclusion cock warming mostly happens post sex with him as a way of still staying connected and keeping up the feeling of being inside a little longer.  Also, don’t tell anyone but it’s secretly also the perfect scheme to start a round two (or three). 

Giving 

I think post nut cock warming is also his favourite to receive. He’d like the feeling of his tightened walls and rim clenching down on you. If you filled him with a good load, he likes that cock warming keeps it deep inside. It definitely happens during spooning so he can hold your hand and talk about the sex with you. It will be nice at first, but then rile him up again.

“I think I can go again.”

“Are you sure? I’ve been pretty rough with you”, you are teasing him and he knows it.

“Please don’t tease, just more please.”

“More. It’s always more with you, Hobi. That’s the second time you are asking for more.”

When your hips finally begin moving again, Hoseok literally moans his words with a scrunched face.

“Not my fault I love your dick so much.”

“Mhm, you’re way too obsessed.”

Jimin

Warnings: Dom!Jimin, dirty talk

Receiving

First a disbelieved chuckle, “are we really doing this now, baby? Fuck, fine so fine with me.” 

Then another, slightly offended, chuckle when he realises what you are doing, “you’re fucking kidding. Baby, you know that I can’t control myself with you. Stop messing with me.” 

When he realises that you are not going to move, he’d try to act tough, but fucking fuck, his ever increasing breath and rapidly hardening cock is going to give him away.

He’ll end up begging in a rasp and with his fingers dimpling your buttocks, “if you’re not gonna tell me to move in the next five seconds, I’ll take matters into my own hands and fuck you into obedience.” 

Why did I make him so dangerous? Bro is a cutiepie I swear, but he gets a little feral when you warm his cock. 

Giving

Dominant af. If you think he is going to be whiny once he is warming your length, think again. He knows his hole is tight and oh so good and he is going to fucking make you beg for it even if you tried to make HIM needy. Will either randomly come up to you and sink down on you, giving you hopes of a spontaneous fuck or he’ll do it in bed when you’re spooning. No matter, you’ll end up begging him to move please, please, please. Will definitely be very dirty mouthed once you are moving, telling you to keep fucking him so rough and hard despite knowing you’re so goddamn desperate and weak from the cock warming.

Taehyung

Warnings: switch!Taehyung, hand stuff

Receiving

Very nonchalant but a tease. Cockwarming either happens to “shut your needy whines up” or because you wanna get him needy. In both situations, you will come out of this situation way needier than Tae. Definitely the kinda guy that begins feeling you up while his other hand is busy working. I can even see his long fingers touching and playing with your sensitive spots. Like: if you have a pussy, he’d be tracing your folds or rim or rub your clit and if you have a dick, he’d trace your rim or fondle your balls or trace your cockhead. Obviously all nonchalantly and as “if he wasn’t doing it”. You’d end up being the one begging him 100% and he definitely fucks you into multiple states of ecstasy.

Giving

BOY THINKS HE CAN HANDLE IT BUT HE CAN’T. Give this big tease a taste of his own medicine. Remember that he is the biggest denier when you’re on his dick, so make him fucking needy as revenge, seriously do it. He’d be cocky and playful at first, but then reality starts to sink in. He is meant to sit here and not bounce on your amazing, girthy length. Oh fuck. Tae is getting restless, squirmy and vocal. “I think it’s been long enough, don’t you think?” 

“Nope, not even in your dreams.”

“I’m getting a cramp, I need to move I swear.”

“You are not cramping, stop whining.”

“Please, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Too bad, I’m not done yet.”

Would definitely become so loud and slutty once you really fuck him, head thrown back and back arched as he screams your name and bounces on you hard and fast.

Jungkook

Warnings: switch!Jungkook, strength kink, tears, praise

Receiving

Either a whiny and pouty sub or a demanding and touchy Dom. I can see both situations with him. It all depends on the time of day. If he’s busy working but you’re needy, he’d sit you on his dick and tell you to be good for him. He’d keep touching you innocently and kissing you all while his cock slowly throbs inside you. Lots of praise as well because he likes that you clench for him when he calls you pretty words. He’d be okay at first, but then get needy too, which results in him either wordlessly standing up with you still on his dick to carry you to bed for a rough fuck or in him trying to make you cum first on his lap so he is the winner (in his mind, it has always been a competition). If he is in one of his hyper, restless moods you can totally shut him down with some cock warming. You sit on him and tell him to behave and he’d become the goodest boy ever. Definitely competitive, trying not to show you how needy you are getting him, but he’s very obvious. Once you reward him with bounces, he tries and fails not to cum instantly. Good thing about him is that he can go again right after an orgasm, he’ll just be a lot louder. Which is a win-win in my book.

Giving

Definitely only subby and very pouty. He thinks it’s unfair. You did all this work, prepared him so well, lubed him up so nicely just to end up telling him to be still. How unfair :( Jungkook so looked forward to bouncing on you and now he has to stay still :( definitely tries to get away with doing kegles for some stimulation, but you notice and punish him by slipping out. His pout grows and his begs get needier, so you slip in again because you can’t deny him. Of course he is ordered to stay still until he misbehaves again and gets punished again and the cycle repeats itself. I think this little play continues until you can’t take it anymore. Jungkook definitely ends up crying and shaking during the fuck because you riled him up so much that it feels euphoric to him.