#It's hard to welcome you opening your legs with open arms.

[thinkinonsense]

SEVEN DAYS

x2!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: desperate!logan, eating reader out, fingering, squirting?

masterlist

the mission was only supposed to last for two days. forty-eight hours and he would return home to you. instead it was dragged out much longer than it needed to be.

logan wanted nothing more than to be home in your arms instead of a motel room alone, painfully hard, trying to tune out scott snore on the other side of the wall.

so, on thursday afternoon when him, scott, and storm returned to the mansion, logan wasted no time hunting you down. he could smell you the second he walked through the front door; you were in charles office. charles, hank, jean, and you were meeting to discuss a new experiment when logan bursts through the door.

"logan! pleasure for you to join us." hank announces.

your head snaps up from your scribbling to see that your lover has returned safely. he looked like a lion ready to pounce on a naivë little lamb.

"just came by to pick something up." logan answers, ignoring everyone else in the room as he made a b-line for you.

"hey, baby–"

within seconds, logan lifts you up over his shoulder and out of the leather seat. you squeal, dropping your notepad and pen. your kitten heels kick his abs as your squirm in his arms.

"logan!" you hiss, swatting his toned back as he turns around to walk out of the room, unphased. "what the hell! put me down!"

he ignores you, pulling down your dress to cover your behind from your co-workers. no one was shocked by logan's actions. the man wasn't a patient person by any means. they all watched as you left over logan's shoulder, face blushing with embarrassment.

when logan finally shut your guys bedroom door, he placed you down on the edge of your bed; yet to say a word to you. instead, he falls straight to his knees in front of you. his big callous hands, rubs the soft skin of your inner thighs, opening your legs.

logan couldn't help but moan when he saw the pretty lacy light blue panties you were wearing. you could see the neediness in his eyes as he licked his lips. before he can remove your underwear, you cradle his face in your much smaller palms.

"you alright, baby?" you ask, looking down at him.

similarly to a cat, logan rubs the scruff of his beard against your thigh, pressing his nose against the thin panties; inhaling the scent of your arousal. you run a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp softly before your fingers tugging on the kitten tuffs, making him whimper against your pussy.

"mhm..." he manages to say. "i missed you."

"aw, i missed you–"

"missed your scent, your lips, your mouth..." his words are muffled as he kisses you messily over the lace. "missed this fuckin' pussy so much."

you gasp when he pulls down the soaked material and moves back for a second to look at you. he spreads you apart with his thumbs, watching you twitch and clench at the cool air hitting your pussy. she was warm, wet, and welcoming to him. logan couldn't imagine a better way to spend the rest of his day.

"there's my favorite girl." logan smiles before spitting right on your button and latching his mouth onto you. you moan loudly as he talks to your pussy, acting as if you weren't even in the room.

"you've missed me too, huh, pretty girl?" he moans incoherently as his tongue runs over core.

it's a struggle to keep your eyes open but it was worth the sight of logan's head in between your legs. the noises he made with your slick were unbelievably lewd.

"must've missed me a lot." you giggle, trying to catch your breath as he wraps your legs around his head.

"you've got not fuckin' idea." he mumbles into your folds. spit and slick pooled onto the sheets that laid under you as logan feasted.

logan looks up at you and fears he might cum just from the image of you with your head thrown back, eyes rolled back and mouth slightly parted as you sing his praise of 'right there, logan!', 'such a good boy for me'.

the 'good boy' comment threw logan's mind into a frenzy. he needed to hear you. he needed to be surrounded by your presence. two of his fingers dip into you, fast and rough. your thighs squeeze his head, threatening to pop it right off his body.

there was no time to warn him before your high hit. logan slurped up every bit of honey you had to offer him. you reach down for the hand that wasn't busy locating your sweet spot and place it on your tit. logan could feel your heartbeat and it only sent him further on his spiral, adding a third finger and repeatedly hitting that spot that made you see fireworks.

"i c-can't, logan" you mewl, wiggling back from logan's tongue. he catches you, latching back onto your button. "it's too m-much!"

"she's takin' me just fine." his voice is muffled against you in the dirtiest way possible.

the pressure builds in your tummy. there were no words in your brain at this point, moaning and babbling about nothing.

"that's the spot, huh?" he groan, smirking up at you. logan's fingers twist up, slamming against that gummy spot deep in your walls.

the motion caused you to let out more slick than you ever had before, gushing on logan's face. you can hear him curse as he licks you clean.

“it’s only been seven days, you know?” you giggle, trying to catch your breath.

he climbs up your body to capture your lips, letting you taste yourself. you moan into his mouth, as logan grinds down on you, needing more.

“seven days too long, sweetheart.”

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

a/n: just something short n sweet before i post part 2 of dad!logan x teacher!reader <3

[mcrdvcks]

Sweet Nothing

Summary: Mornings were Logan's favorite part of the day.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: i came up with this idea yesterday when i took a nap instead of writing an essay for my energy policy class. this is my first time writing smut for logan so any critiques are welcome!

warnings/tags: no use of y/n, porn with no plot, pet names (baby, sweetheart), unprotected piv, creampie, not proofread

You were like a cat, practically purring into his neck as you slept peacefully, your arm around his chest and your leg hoisted around his stomach.

But Logan wouldn’t trade it for anything, not when he could watch your chest rise and fall steadily, your bare body pressed up against his own.

Logan’s arm tightened around your waist, the weight of you grounding him. He loved the way your breath hitched when he shifted, your skin pressed flush against his. "Mm, baby," his voice came out low, almost a growl, lips brushing against your forehead. His fingers grazed your bare hip, pulling you tighter against his side.

Your leg slipped further up his body, your thigh brushing his stomach, every part of you tangled with him. His chest rumbled, the warmth of your skin driving him wild. He couldn't help but dip his head, nuzzling the soft spot just beneath your ear, breathing you in, "Can’t get enough of you like this," he murmured, his hand roaming down your spine.

A sleepy smile tugged at your lips as you shifted, nuzzling closer into his neck, the feeling of his stubble grazing your cheek sending shivers down your body. The heat of the morning sun was nothing compared to the heat between the two of you, the sheets a tangled mess beneath you both, the air thick with something else entirely.

Logan’s rough hand slid lower, finding the curve of your ass, fingers splaying across the soft flesh. "Always gotta be all over me, don’t you, sweetheart?" His voice was thick with need, each word a low, gravelly tease as he squeezed, hard enough to make you hum softly into his neck. He loved the way you responded to his touch, every sound you made driving him deeper into the moment.

You shifted again, your hips rolling instinctively against him, and that was it. Logan’s breath hitched, his cock stirring against your thigh. He let out a quiet grunt, rough fingertips grazing the inside of your thigh, teasing your skin with lazy circles. "You keep that up, baby," he warned, voice darker now, more possessive, "and I’m not gonna be able to hold back."

Your eyes flickered open just a bit, catching the hungry look in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched as he gripped your ass harder. You couldn’t help but smile, that playful, knowing smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing. And so did he.

Logan groaned, his hand slipping between your legs, fingers brushing the heat between your thighs. "Fuck, you're soaked," he rasped, fingers gliding over your folds, teasing you just enough to make you squirm. "Needy already, huh? Such a good girl for me."

You whined softly, your hips pushing back against his hand, desperate for more. But Logan wasn’t about to let you have it that easy. He kept his touch feather-light, teasing, dragging his fingers over you just enough to drive you insane.

Logan’s fingers teased along your wet folds, barely brushing the surface, just enough to make you whine again, hips rolling forward, desperate for more than just a teasing touch. "Needy little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, voice a gravelly rasp that sent shivers down your spine. His breath, hot and thick against your ear, only added to the tension building between your legs.

You pressed yourself harder against his hand, a soft, pleading moan slipping from your lips. "Logan," you whispered, the word coming out like a prayer, breathless, full of need. He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your neck as he nuzzled deeper into the crook, stubble scraping your skin in that way that always drove you wild.

"Patience, sweetheart," Logan muttered, his fingers finally dipping between your slick folds, parting them with agonizing slowness. His touch was firm, yet still teasing, fingers gliding through your wetness, but never quite giving you the pressure you were aching for. His thumb circled your clit, slow, lazy movements that had you squirming in his arms, a quiet whimper escaping your throat.

You gasped, grinding against him, desperate for more friction, more anything. His body was a solid, immovable wall, warm and grounding, but that teasing hand had you on edge. "Fuck, Lo," you moaned, barely able to keep still, your hips rocking against his touch. Logan’s other arm tightened around you, holding you in place, his lips grazing your ear.

"That’s it. Keep making those sweet little noises for me," he growled, fingers sliding down to circle your entrance, teasing just enough to have your breath hitching. He pressed the tip of one finger inside you, just enough to feel how wet you were for him. "So fucking wet already," he murmured, his lips pressing against your neck, teeth grazing lightly. "You want it bad, don’t you?"

You nodded frantically, the need building in your core, hips pushing back against him. His finger slid in deeper, slow and deliberate, making you squirm even more. "God, Logan, please," you begged, your voice thick with desperation, body trembling with want. You could feel his cock pressing against your thigh, throbbing with need just like you.

He chuckled again, low and dark, before adding a second finger, curling them inside you, finally giving you that delicious pressure you’d been craving. Your back arched, a moan ripping from your throat as your walls clenched around his fingers. "There you go," he muttered, his voice rough as gravel. "Take what you need, baby."

You were a mess, grinding against his hand, your body moving on instinct. His fingers moved faster now, pumping in and out of you, slick and wet, the sound filling the room. His thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you gasping, your body tensing as you climbed higher, faster.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His hips rocked against you, his hard cock pressing insistently against your thigh. "Gonna make you come all over my fingers before I even think about giving you anything more."

The knot in your stomach tightened, your entire body trembling, on the edge, so fucking close. Logan knew exactly what he was doing, his fingers curling just right inside you, his thumb relentless on your clit, pushing you closer and closer. "Come on, baby," he urged, his voice dark and commanding. "I want to feel you come for me."

His words sent you over the edge, your body shuddering as the orgasm ripped through you, a cry spilling from your lips. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your hips bucking against his hand as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

Logan didn’t stop, his fingers still working you through it, prolonging the sensation, his other arm holding you tight against him as you rode out the high. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling, oversensitive and overstimulated, but still craving more. You wanted him.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he muttered, pulling his fingers out of you, wet and glistening. He brought them up to your lips, brushing them against your mouth, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Taste yourself," he growled softly.

Without hesitation, you opened your mouth, sucking his fingers in, tasting your own slickness on his skin. Logan groaned, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you, the heat between you both palpable. His fingers slid from your lips with a wet pop, leaving your mouth craving more.

Before you could even catch your breath, Logan shifted, rolling you onto your back with ease, his weight pressing you into the sheets. His body hovered over yours, his chest brushing against your breasts as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, hungry kiss. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting, claiming, while his hand trailed down your side, fingers tracing the curve of your waist.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet," he muttered against your lips, his breath hot, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand slipped lower, finding your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist. The pressure of his hips settled between your legs, his hard cock brushing against your soaked entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

Logan moved slowly, his hips rocking just enough for you to feel the length of him dragging against your folds, the friction making you gasp, your hands clenching in the sheets. "Shit, baby, you’re dripping for me," he growled, his voice thick with need, as he ground his hips harder, the tip of his cock pressing lightly against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

You bucked your hips, desperate for more, your body aching for him to fill you. "Please, Lo," you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "Need you inside me."

A low, feral groan rumbled from his chest as he nudged your legs wider, positioning himself at your entrance. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a hunger that made your heart race. Slowly, torturously, he pushed in, stretching you inch by inch, filling you completely. The sensation of him inside you, thick and hot, made your head spin, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

"Fuck," Logan hissed, his jaw clenched as he buried himself to the hilt, his body still for a moment as he savored the feel of you wrapped tight around him. "You feel so fucking good, sweetheart." His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he began to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the rhythm steady but deliberate.

You moaned softly, your hands sliding up his back, nails dragging across his skin as he set a slow, sensual pace, his cock gliding in and out of you with maddening precision. "Logan," you gasped, your back arching off the bed, the pleasure building steadily with each thrust. "Fuck... that feels so good."

Logan's mouth found your neck, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing your pulse. "I know, baby," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as his hips rocked into you, deep and slow, every movement calculated to drive you insane. His hands roamed over your body, fingers squeezing your ass as he angled his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your toes curl.

Your breath hitched, a broken moan slipping from your lips as you wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him closer, needing more. Logan growled low in his throat, his thrusts becoming more insistent, his cock driving into you harder, deeper, each one sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," he groaned, his voice rough and thick with desire. His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you gasping, your hips grinding against his, desperate for more friction. "Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, his thrusts growing rougher, faster. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

You could barely breathe, the pleasure building to a fever pitch, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers worked your clit, his cock pounding into you with just the right rhythm. It was too much, the heat, the pressure, his low growls in your ear driving you over the edge. With a strangled cry, your body tensed, your walls clenching around him as the orgasm ripped through you, your vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

"Fuck, yes," Logan groaned, his pace faltering as he felt you tighten around him, his cock twitching inside you. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep, his body shaking as his release hit, spilling inside you with a low, guttural moan. He held you tight, his breath ragged against your neck, his body trembling with the aftershocks.

For a long moment, the only sound was your mingled breathing, bodies entwined, his weight a comforting pressure holding you to the bed. Logan's lips hovered over yours, brushing them softly, like a lingering promise. His rough fingers skimmed along your side, tracing the dips of your waist, as if savoring the way your body still hummed from the intensity.

He shifted beside you, the warm length of him pressing into your skin, a quiet rumble in his chest as he nuzzled your neck again, his stubble scraping against your pulse. "Still with me, sweetheart?" Logan's voice was low, teasing, his mouth ghosting over your jawline. The rasp of his tone sent another shiver down your spine, even though your body was still heavy from release.

"Mmhmm," you murmured, barely able to form a coherent word, your breath catching as his lips trailed lower, grazing the soft skin just under your ear. Logan chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin, as his hand slid down, resting on your thigh, fingers splayed out across your skin.

He pulled back enough to meet your eyes, the intensity in his gaze making your pulse quicken again. His thumb rubbed absentminded circles into your skin, like he needed the physical connection just as much as you did. "You really wore me out this time," he teased, smirking that cocky grin of his, though the hunger in his eyes hadn’t fully faded.

Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging him back down toward you. "Don’t act like you didn’t love every second of it," you shot back, breathless but smiling.

Logan chuckled, low and deep, dipping down to kiss you again, slow and deliberate, savoring the way your lips felt against his. "Damn right," he muttered between kisses. "Could stay like this forever."

For a moment, the world outside the room felt distant, forgotten, the only thing that mattered was the heat between your bodies, the steady rhythm of your breaths, and the soft warmth of the tangled sheets beneath you. Logan's fingers skimmed your hip, then slipped around to cup your ass, squeezing gently, making you hum softly in response.

"You're a handful, you know that?" His voice was thick with affection, despite the rough edge to it.

"Mm, you love it," you teased, a grin tugging at your lips as your fingers traced the hard lines of his shoulders.

"Yeah, I do," he growled, his lips pressing harder against yours. "Too much sometimes." His breath fanned across your face as he spoke, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart, matching your own.

Logan's hand slid up your back, pulling you closer to him, his chest warm and solid against yours. For once, the urgency had faded, replaced with something slower, deeper—like he didn’t want to let go of this moment, this feeling. "You good?" he asked, voice quieter now, more tender.

You nodded, resting your forehead against his, your hands curling around his arms, holding onto him like you never wanted to let go. "Yeah," you whispered, feeling the weight of the day melt away with him there beside you.

"Good," he murmured, kissing the top of your head, the gentleness of the gesture at odds with the wild, raw passion from earlier. But that was Logan- rough and intense, but capable of surprising softness when it came to you.

His hand settled on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him again as he let out a long, contented sigh. The steady rise and fall of his chest was soothing, grounding, as you drifted into the comfort of the moment, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield from the world outside.

"Stay here," he rumbled, his voice barely more than a growl, but there was something deeper in his tone, something protective.

You smiled softly against his chest, fingers tracing idle patterns along his skin. "Always."

[holylulusworld]

Arachnophobia

Summary: You’re afraid of spiders, and you want to become Tony Stark’s assistant.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Tony Stark x Platonic!Reader, Peter Parker x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: arachnophobia, fluff, scared reader, cute Peter

“You will work mostly with me and Dr. Banner.” Tony Stark, yes, the Tony Stark, explains as you try to keep up with his steady steps. You are close to reaching your goal, working as a lab assistant at the Avengers Tower.

“OH,” you nod, fearing to say something stupid and messing up this job interview.

“Don’t worry,” Tony stops in his tracks to flash you a smile, “he barely turns into his green alter ego these days.”

You giggle. “I’m not afraid of Dr. Banner because I don’t have a reason. I’m not a villain.”

Tony chuckles. “I know that you’re neither a villain nor a criminal. I did my research before even inviting you to the interview.”

Your cheeks heat up. Of course, Tony Stark would do a complete background check when receiving your application for the position. The Avengers reside in the building too. He’d never risk their safety.

“I hope you didn’t find out I stole a candy when I was four,” you reply, hoping to ease the tension in your body with a joke.

“I saw the footage,” he grins and points at the laboratory. “Let’s head inside. You can meet Dr. Banner and Peter.”

“Peter?” You question.

“I took him under my wing,” Tony replies. “He’s a good boy. Incredibly smart and kind-hearted. Hopefully, a younger version of me.”

You nod. That’s a lot to shoulder at such a young age. Being brilliant and having someone like Tony Stark want you to become his protégé. You envy and pity the young man. It’s hard to stand in a great man’s shadow.

“Shall we?” Tony puts his hand on a scanner at the door. The door beeps but doesn’t open. He leans forward, using the iris scanner to unlock the next lock. Lastly, he types in a code on the keypad. The door finally unlocks, and you can enter the laboratory.

“Wow,” you gasp. You knew that there was going to be lots of security. But Stark’s security system is still impressive.

“Welcome to the laboratory, Mr. Stark, Ms. Y/L/N.” Friday welcomes you to the laboratory. And what can you say? It’s even more impressive than you thought possible.

You look around, clasping your hands together. Bruce and Steve, who came around to let Bruce check on his shield for scientific purposes (which means Bruce wants to shoot a laser at the shield) watch you twirl around while giggling like a child.

“This is so awesome!” You exclaim, making all of them chuckle. They admire your honest enthusiasm and happiness at the sight of the laboratory.

“Hi, Mr. Stark, the new suit is awesome!” A voice stops you from getting even more excited. You look around the room, trying to find the source of the voice. Captain Rogers and Bruce didn’t say a word, nor did Tony. “Hi, miss! You must be the new lab assistant.”

“What—I?” You look around the room again before you slowly look at the ceiling. A bloodcurdling scream tears from your throat, seeing a human-sized spider on the ceiling. “Ahhhhh! No! A spider…A huge spider…A spider…a spider…”

You run toward the door, but it won’t open, so you make a beeline to jump right into Captain America’s arms. Clinging to a very surprised Steve like a koala, you wrap your legs around him and hide your face in his chest. Your teeth shatter, and you whimper in distress.

“Mr. Stark?” You hear something drop to the ground and whine loudly. “I didn’t want to scare her. What did I do?”

“Y/N,” Tony wants to laugh about the scene unfolding in front of him. You’re wrapped around Steve while he looks at Tony, wide-eyed. Steve doesn’t dare to move or say anything, afraid to scare you even more. “Uh, that’s not a spider.”

“It is a huge spider!” You sniffle and hold tight onto Steve for dear life. “HUGE! SPIDER!”

“Uh-miss,” Peter clears his throat. “I’m not a spider. I’m Spiderman.” He slowly steps toward you, tapping a hidden button on the brand-new suit, Tony invented, to let it disappear. “But you can call me Peter.”

Peter holds out his hand, giving you a cracked smile as you slowly dip your head to look his way. In front of you stands a friendly young man, not a spider wanting to scare you.

“Sorry for scaring you. I tried my new suit and crawled around the ceiling to test it,” he explains. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re…Spiderman…” Realization dawns on you. Crap, this is the Avengers’ tower, and the young man is Spiderman. “OH…no!” You sniffle, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to freak out. I’m sorry too.” You’re still shaken from the encounter, but smile at him. “Sorry…I’m just scared of spiders since one crawled up my leg and bit me when I was a kid.”

You both chuckle when Peter tells you he got bitten once too. He keeps the part of the bite turning him into a human spider out.

“Okay, let us all calm down and laugh it off.” Tony releases a shuddering breath. He feared you’d quit your job right after he hired you. “Steve, could you please let my assistant down now? We are not done with our little tour.”

Steve clears his throat. He forgot about the fact that you’re clinging to his body and that he protectively wrapped his arms around you.

“I think she needs a break,” Steve says, and refuses to let go of you. “Let’s get her some tea and something to eat. That was a stressful situation.”

Tony cocks a brow. He doesn’t like how Steve reacts to you in his arms. “Capsicle. No. We are not done with my tour.”

“What?” Steve furrows his brows. He already walks toward the door with you in his arms. “I’ll show her around. First stop, the kitchen, next to the communal room, and then her place at the tower. I think the room next to mine would be a good choice.”

Steve carefully places you on your feet. He looks you all over, listening to your heartbeat. Luckily, it slowed down.

“Shall we go?” Steve offers his arm to you. “I’ll give you the Steve tour.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony watches Steve guide you out of the laboratory.

“Great, now he stole my lab assistant before I got the chance to work with her.”

Bruce turns back to his work, while Peter still feels guilty for scaring you. He plans on making things up to you soon. Maybe he can even help you lose your fear of spiders...

Tags in reblog.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart (Chapter 15) Human!Alastor x Married!Reader)

Chapter Trigger Warnings: Rape

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

Prev Masterlist AO3 KoFi

The high pitch whistle of air passing between Laurence’s lips cut through the air, ripping through what little peace you could cling to. He always whistled while dressing, especially after having taken his pleasure from you. It didn’t matter that you lay trying to will your heart to stop beating in your chest as wetness trickled down your thigh.

That wasn’t different in the slightest, but this morning, things were different. You were sobbing, for one. Though you tried to stifle the sound, bunching blankets up to shove against your mouth as you lay crumpled on the bed with your legs tucked against your chest. 

This morning, you had fought him. Why, you couldn’t say. Though, as his wife, you had no right to deny him your body, you had told him ‘no’. That meant nothing to him. It meant nothing to him when you screamed or when you pushed at him as his much larger body enveloped you. It meant nothing to him as you clawed at his chest.

For Laurence’s part, he was sure that today was going to be a good day. He had plans, big ones for the day. He had woken up hard, eager to fuck the day and looking over at you, he found you making the loveliest sounds in your sleep. Little whimpers that sounded so much like the sounds Emma would make as he kissed her neck passed through your lips as your eyes moved under your eyelids.

It was only right for him to start his day buried inside his wife’s cunt, Laurence decided in that moment. With you asleep and making those sweet noises, surely you were dreaming about him, about your want for him. Laurence knew he would push your nightgown up and find you welcoming to him without the pressure of society’s propriety you seemed to exist living by. 

You woke with a start as he slotted his. Burning pain ripped through you as he pushed inside, hips jerking into you. Each brutal thrust forced himself deeper, ripping open your core. 

A scream tore from your chest as he forced himself deeper, not relenting at the resistance your body put up. The sound wasn’t long lived as Laurence’s hand clamped down over your mouth. He glowered down at you, bright blond hair lit up by the morning sun. He had to hold his hand over your face as he fucked you, sealing the breath in your lungs and stifling your screams as you clawed at him.

He had almost lost track of time as he fucked into you while your struggles grew weaker, but he caught himself just in time. The moment his hand lifted from your face, letting you breathe, you gasped in a breath and forced it to not leave you in another scream. 

“Honey?” Laurence went to your side, running his hand up and down your bruised arm softly, as if he could wipe away the lingering marks his hands had left like they were little more than marks on a chalkboard.

 He’d been so good to you lately, so distracted- the marks were mostly green and yellow, healing with the passage of time as spring took root. It’s a shame you had to take all that kindness and patience he gave you and turn around and fight him over your wifely duties. 

“You’re overreacting.” He said softly, as if your tears were over nothing more than a broken earring. 

“I’m sorry, Laurence.” You whispered the words, trying to hold your breath to control the flow of your tears. All it did was remind you of how it felt to have his hand over your mouth and nose, lungs fighting for small gasps of air as you struggled under him. 

“You need to stop fighting it,” Laurence ran his hand over your hair, smoothing it down as he sat on the edge of the bed. The way he spoke reminded you of a parent lecturing their child about the need to take medicine. “You’re my wife. It’s your job to see to my needs. All of them.” 

“I know,” you whimper, forcing yourself to submit to his touch. It had been harder and harder to allow him to couch you, as you’d spent more time with Alastor. It wasn’t right, you knew that. Laurence was right. It was your duty to allow him to touch you.

You needed to do better so that he wouldn’t hurt you. 

“Honey, I’m not going to be home tonight. That’s why I had to have you so bad. I’ve gotta leave town for a meeting. It’s a big deal and we’ll be set for the year if I close it. Get you that clothes washer you wanted. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Laurence.” Your throat was so dry, it felt like you were speaking through sand. 

“I’ll be home tomorrow for dinner, alright?” He leaned down and kissed your temple. The trembling in your body froze at the contact. It wasn’t comfort that stilled you. 

“Alright.” You whispered, feeling muscles cramp as your body struggled to remain still. It didn’t matter that he had already had you, that he had already hurt you. 

Alastor sat in the cafe, cup of strong coffee in hand as his eyes skimmed over the newspaper. Bright lights lit up the shiny polished tile. It was a far cry from the warm and comfortable cafe he had spent much of his childhood in but it was the world he had fought tooth and nail to step into. 

That didn’t stop him from fighting to maintain the smile on his face. The morning had been less than ideal, with a board on the porch snapping under foot on his way out the door. It wouldn’t be a difficult repair, but he wasn’t looking forward to it either. 

The fact that his latest body was on the third page and some other half bit sloppy killer was on the front page had him in a sour mood. It wasn’t the first time this other person had stolen his spotlight, but at least this time they were reporting on the bodies as the acts of two separate killers. 

Alastor had been expecting to start his morning off with an early call from Laurence and been right. Now he was stuck waiting for the one man he cared to see least in the moment to join him. 

The individual stealing his spotlight could have at least made themselves useful and taken out Laurence for him. Then Alastor wouldn’t have to sit and spend his morning waiting for the fool to show up.

He glanced up at the sound of someone approaching his table to see it was just the man he was waiting for. Alastor set his paper down, article on the latest body found front and center, proclaiming to the world that they were no closer to catching the person responsible, as he stood. 

“Laurence, a pleasure to see you again,” Alastor lied, holding his hand out. As was expected, his business associate clasped his hand and shook. Today, Alastor resisted the urge to crush the lesser man’s hand again, but the temptation had nearly won out.

“Likewise, Alastor.” The other man spoke through gritted teeth, “Shall we get down to it?” 

Alastor motioned for the other man to take a seat across the table from him. He didn’t return to his seat until Laurence did so, taking the moment to tower over the blond man, to remind him of his place. Laurence was to be looked down upon. He was below Alastor. 

“I’ve got your payment.” Laurence pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and slid it across the table. 

Alastor eyed it for a moment, letting it sit where Laurence left it. He took a long drink from his coffee before finally setting the mug down as he picked up the envelope. He didn’t bother being discreet. Rather, he made a show of counting the bills inside, ensuring the agreed upon payment was there in full. 

“I’m glad to know you managed to make the payment,” Alastor said, slipping the envelope into his pocket jacket pocket, “Considering your firm lost the station contract.” 

“Just a minor speed bump,” Laurence assured him, though Alastor could see the way the other man’s jaw ticked, muscle jumping as he clenched his teeth. 

“Of course.” Alastor’s smile pulled wider across his face. 

The phone rang mid morning, startling you out of your thoughts as you scrubbed the bathroom tiles. You hesitated for a second as you walked by Laurence’s office door. There was a phone receiver in there, but you were not allowed to enter his office. 

With a shake of your head, you made your way downstairs and picked up the receiver in the hall. There was no reason to dwell on how much more convenient it would be to be able to answer from that phone. 

“Hello?” Silence stretched on as you waited a few moments before repeating the word.

“It’s me,” Alastor’s voice filled your ear as he spoke softly, “Is he home?” 

“No,” You found yourself leaning against the wall, mindful to keep the pressure off your still healing ribs as found butterflies fluttering around your stomach. Your heart was giddy at the sound of his voice. “I’m alone.”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Alastor asked, no longer whispering. Static crackled over the line, fading in and out, but that didn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. 

“Tomorrow by dinner.” You felt scandalous to be telling an unattached man such a thing, but he was safe. Alastor wouldn’t hurt you. It was safe to confide in him. It was safe to talk to him. 

Perhaps that’s part of the problem, a voice in the back of your head whispered, but you ignored it. The last thing in the world you wanted at the moment was to listen to the vile logic of that voice. 

This was the only thing you had for yourself in your life and you were determined to cling to it, cling to him as long as you could. It was innocent, anyway. Society wouldn’t understand your friendship, but that didn’t make it anything more than it was.

“So you’ll be home, all alone, all night long?” Alastor’s voice purred across the line, the same tone you were sure he used to catch the attention of any woman who caught his eye. 

You feigned a mock gasp before giggling, “Alastor! What are you implying?” 

Alastor’s suave purr melted into a warm laugh that soothed away the aches in your joints. “That you may need to come out with me. I know a joint, good music, good drinks, good dancing. What do you say?”

“Somewhere that you know? Would it be safe?” You chewed on your lip as you listened to his chuckle. 

“Do you trust me?” He teased. “If you do, meet me in our alley.” He asked, and you trusted him. With hardly a doubt, you did. 

You wore your best dress, not that it was up to style. The deep green color and glittering beads contrasted with the vibrant red of the cloak you secured around your shoulders. The sun was setting, lighting up your home with the warm golden glow that was unique to mornings and evenings as you applied your lipstick.

If you didn’t hurry, it would be dark before you got to the alley. The cover of darkness would be useful in hiding your identity but brought its own dangers, dangers you were not sure you were brave enough to face alone. 

One last look in the mirror brought a smile to your face. Most of the bruises were hidden, covered by powders, creams or bangles. If you kept the cloak on, no one would see the fading bruises on your arm. If Al was taking you somewhere with drinks, dancing and music, you wouldn’t be able to get away with not shedding it. No one would care to notice them, even if it was bright enough inside to see them though, if music was playing, drink flowing and lights dim. 

Never in your life had you wanted to look as nice as you did tonight for him. Even as you were primped and polished for your wedding day, you hadn’t been too concerned with your appearance. 

It was better that you didn’t think about it too carefully. It was better that you didn’t consider what it could mean. You deserved a night out. You deserved to have a friend. There was nothing wrong with what you were doing. 

But… you hoped he would find you pretty. 

“Mimzy?” Alastor called into the dimly lit lounge. It was early, and she was far from opening, but he had a key. She was prone to losing hers, misplacing it for days at a time, and he would have to come to her rescue. 

“Al?” Her voice came from the back. “What ya doing here so early?” 

“I’ve got a favor to ask you,” he was shouting across the lounge, knowing there wasn’t anyone to overhear them. 

“What ya need?” She called back, glancing over her shoulder as he drew closer to where she was unpacking crates of liquor into a box hidden under the floorboards. She had a few spots to stash excess supply, had to be sure she could open right back up if she got busted. 

Women didn’t get thrown in jail for running shows like this. Whatever lad she currently had on her arm this season would take the fall, as they always did, and she would get off by batting her pretty blue eyes and acting like she knew nothing. 

“Use of the side storeroom for the night?” Alastor took a few bottles out of the crate and passed them into the box Mimzy was stuffing. 

“That room is full of boxes and crap,” Mimzy only glanced up at him as he put another bottle down into the straw filled box. 

“We can move all that. I’ll help.” 

“Why that space?” Mimzy stood up, dusting her hands off while he closed the box and began replacing the boards. 

“It’s just got a curtain,” Alastor slipped one board into place and then the other before picking up the crate and carrying it to the next hiding place. “We’ll be able to hear the band better, see them a little too.” 

“What are you planning?” Mimzy rested a fist on her cocked hip. 

“I’m going to bring her here tonight,” Alastor said as if it was nothing. “He’s going to be gone until tomorrow, and left her behind. Can you believe that?” 

“What I can’t believe is that you’re wanting to do something like this for your latest little hobby.” Mimzy rolled her eyes, but the sass did nothing to wipe the smile from her face.

“She’s just lonely, needs a friend.” Alastor rolled his eyes back at Mimzy as she started pulling up the next set of boards. “You didn’t see the way he left her- all over some flowers.”

“You gave a married woman flowers, knowing how Laurence is, and were surprised how it turned out?” Mimzy looked up at him from where she knelt, eyebrow raised, “Men like that are mean at best.” 

“That it turned out as badly as it did for her? Yes.” Alastor gave Mimzy a pointed look, “Didn’t you say I needed more friends, more company and to be less isolated? I’m only doing what you told me to do.”

“But carrying on with a married woman wasn’t what I meant.”

“And when did you become the paragon of propriety?” Alastor let out a breath, sending a chunk of hair that had fallen into his face off to the side. 

“Alastor, don’t be like that.” Mimzy huffed, “You know I don’t give a shit if someone’s married or not. I’m not above spending an evening with a married man. But I worry about you, that’s all.” 

“You needn’t worry about me, my dear.” Alastor patted Mimzy on the top of her head, ignoring the scowl etched across her face. 

“Of course you can use the room.” She answered, an exasperated sigh paired with the relaxing of her furrowed brows. 

With the added pair of hands, they could unpack the crates much faster than Mimzy would have alone. That worked out just fine for Alastor, leaving him plenty of time ahead of opening to get the small side room emptied. For that task, he didn’t have the benefit of an additional set of hands, though he had expected as much.

Mimzy watched, drink in hand, as Alastor moved boxes and crates, stacking them in different side rooms. There wasn’t much order to where he put things. Much of the boxes and crates held things that belonged to the landlord or things she was storing for this person or that. 

Her speakeasy had not always functioned as a bar and lounge, but she improvised with what she had. With the nature of her business, it wasn’t really in per power to demand an empty space from the landlord. Storing other people’s junk earned her a few extra pennies a month, too. 

“You sure about this?” Mimzy called as he walked a small table into the enclave behind the curtain. 

“I’ve got it under control, Mimzy. I’m just having some fun before I end Laurence.” Alastor called, “Start bein on the watch for a new supplier.”

“And how you going to do that?” She watched as he made his way back for two chairs.

“I’ll see him into bankruptcy. He’ll be so shamed he has no choice but to divorce his pretty little wife and then I’ll take her from him too.” 

“You think that’s how that works?” Mimzy laughs. “Men don’t just let go of their wives when they go broke, Al.” 

“He won’t be able to provide for her,” Alastor walked by, glasses, tablecloth and a candle in his hand while Mimzy’s eyebrow rose. “I’ll buy him off and poof. I’ve got a romantic cover so people can stop yapping.” 

“And that requires a date in my side room?”

You looked both ways before tugging the red bowl hat down just a little more before you turned into the alleyway. Your alleyway. Your place, as Alastor had called it. It wasn’t safe for a woman to just walk in an alleyway. To steal moments of time with Alastor, it was worth it to take these little risks, though. It was more and more worth it as you spent more time with him. Peeking in, you saw the dark mass that you hoped was his car. 

“Hey,” Alastor’s warm voice came softly from just under the cover of the shadows, far closer to the mouth of the alley than you had expected. “I wanted to make sure you made it to the car alright.”

His hand, covered with a dark gray leather glove, reached out from the darkness, inviting you in. Each moment that passed drew the darkness tighter around you while the sun sank lower below the horizon line. You looked both ways, finding no one paying you any mind at all as they scurried home to their dinner. With one last deep breath, you let Alastor take your hand and pull you into the darkness with him. 

“Good Evening,” you whispered. 

“I’m glad you made it safe,” Alastor’s voice was soft. He leaned into you as he tucked your hand around his arm, confidently leading you through the near total shadows. “Forgive me for not picking you up directly, as a gentleman should.” 

“It wouldn’t have been proper, it would have looked-” you tripped in the darkness but the hard ground never came. Alastor’s arm reached out, catching you and holding you against his side, mindful of your still healing broken ribs. 

“Be careful,” he said, “And it would have looked like exactly what it is.” 

What did he mean by that? 

Alastor parked his car behind a large brick building. Technically, it was the side, but the back door was where everyone else would go in. The side door function as the back door to Mimzy’s joint, Alastor had explained. The front door was boarded closed, not having been used in as long as he had known her. 

You stepped out of the car after looking for anyone that could see and may recognize you and tell the world of your sins. Darkness fell, night chasing away twilight as Alastor drove you to the heart of the city. It always amazed you how quickly the day could give up its grasp to night. 

Alastor wasted no time tucking you into his arm, hiding you against his towering frame as he shut the door behind you. His presence was a rock you clung to through the rushing waves of fear and guilt. Again and again, as you allowed him to wrap you in his arm the way a lover would, you tried to tell yourself that this was just friendship. 

You were doing nothing wrong. 

Tucked against him, you walked with him to the door that looked clearly unused in the dark. Light from the street lamps, recently switched to electric as so many things were now, reflected off the dull metal that was full of dents and scratches. There were warning bells screaming in your mind, telling you that you had let yourself get talked into a dangerous situation. 

How well did you really know him?

There was a serial killer on the run. While they usually took men, it wasn’t unheard of for a woman’s body to be found, chunks of flesh or whole limbs missing. You tried to focus on the warmth of him, the arm holding you nestled against his side as the door opened to darkness. 

Alastor was safe. He wouldn’t hurt you. Your mind was just running away with you. It was just the guilt. Alastor had done nothing to make you fear him. There wasn’t anything wrong. He had been a perfect gentleman. You convinced yourself that you were worrying about nothing. 

Alastor flicked a switch just inside the door, and electricity buzzed to life. Overhead, a few lightbulbs flickered before building brightness but most came to life instantly. It didn’t light the space particularly well, but it allowed you to see. 

“What is this place?” You asked, stepping closer to Alastor, taking shelter in his side. Your fingers wrapped around his jacket, letting the feeling of the rough wool ground you. 

Alastor chuckled, letting his arm trail from around your shoulders. His palm ran across your shoulders and his fingers trailed down your arm before he let his fingers just hook into the palm of your hand as he stepped away.

The thunder of your pulse in your ears was deafening as you looked up at him questioningly. Was he really doing what you had thought he was trying to do? Holding hands was something young courting couples did, not the male friend of a married woman. 

But sneaking out into the night with their male friend behind their husband’s back also wasn’t what married women did. 

You let his fingers slip into your palm, wrapping your fingers around his hand as his smile brightened a little more. He said nothing of your acceptance of him, but it was written clearly on his face. 

You loved him, you realized, and whatever you were doing with him was far from innocent. But that was alright, you told yourself, as long as it stayed just like this. As long as it stayed your little secret, was it really any worse than the wives whose heads lived in clouds formed by romance novels hidden behind their cook books?

He pulled you through the sea of boxes, dust swirling around him as he lead the way, reflecting the dim light in a sea of sparkles. It made him look warm and inviting, a sin you told yourself it was alright to just get a taste of.

“It is just through the storeroom,” Alastor said as he pulled you along, unaware of the vision he was in your eyes or the warring realizations in your head and heart. “I didn’t want anyone to see us, so I set up a surprise.”

No, this wasn’t right. You needed to stop whatever it was you were doing with him. It was going to lead you to damnation, to ruin. And you would, you decided as he looked forward again, letting you shamelessly take in the way his fluffy hair moved with him. 

You would put a stop to this but, what harm could come from just one more evening with him? You were already there, hand in his and music building as he led you through the sea of boxes. 

What’s one more evening?

[g-hua]

Do you know that "friend" who makes you feel bad about the things you do by talking about someone else who also does these things and saying that the reason that other person does these things is on purpose to be selfish or piss off others but never talks to you about the times you do those things?

Especially when they are mental health related things?

Yeah?

Fuck that friend.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Too Sweet

Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Summary: you tell Logan not to hold back anymore. And who is he to deny his sweet girlfriend anything? This is just porn without plot

Wrote this with Xmen/X2 Logan in mind but you may picture whichever Logan suits your needs

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it my children), oral (f receiving), fingering, soft rough sex, Logan talks you through it, creampie, choking, the claws make an appearance (duh), Logan is obsessed with his girl, established relationship

WC: 3.2K

A/N: SOMETHING SHORT SHE SAID. I need to be put down. I am feral over this man. Seeing DP&W got me acting tf up. It put me back into my Logan obsession so I rewatched all of his movies. And now I need him. So here you go. Might write more with him soon. For now is this.

Follow my reading blog to stay updated with my works if you’d like to see more @midnightreadinglibrary

You were sweet. You were, oh, so sweet. Such a pretty sweet thing. You were so going to be the death of him. Playing with the strings of his sanity, of his composure. Worst of all, you were doing nothing at all to make him go insane. Other than love and care for him that was.

He tried, he really did, he tried to keep himself under control when he was with you, and he was doing a pretty good job of it so far. But god, today, today you were going to make him loose his fucking mind. He had decided to visit you, unannounced he stopped by your apartment. And what did he find? You, in the kitchen, in nothing but a red flannel, his red flannel. Speechless, he was. 

Logan stood in silence, blinking slowly as his eyes took in every part of you with growing intensity. Your legs were bare, your ass barely covered by the length of his shirt and you seemed rather happy like this. Is this what you did when he wasn’t around? And why did the sight of you suddenly wake deep within him an overwhelming need to ruin you? 

Almost as if the intensity of his presence got your absentminded attention, you turned your head to find him standing in the entryway with an unreadable expression. And though a little bit flustered by his unannounced visit, you welcomed him with a soft smile.

“Hi Logan.” You greeted him with glee, all but skipping over to him to greet him properly, of course. You were standing on the ends of your toes and throwing your arms over his broad shoulders while he just stood in ominous silence, only a deep exhale leaving his lips. “Are you okay baby?”

“Yeah.” His voice strained with restraint as he fought the deep urge to throw you over the nearest flat surface. Instead he simply placed his hands on your hips, squeezing unevenly as he gave you an eyebrow raise. “New shirt?”

“Oh,” Your lips fell open in a bit of embarrassment and you laughed softly, flustered as you looked down at the shirt that was clearly not yours. It kind of smelled like him still. “Yeah so, my washer broke, I don’t know what happened to it, and I couldn’t find anything comfortable so… Does it bother you?”

Did it bother him? The only thing that was bothering him was his already hard cock straining against his jeans. 

“A pretty girl in my clothes? I would be fucking stupid.” 

The way his words left his mouth made you laugh. But the look in those hazel eyes was anything but humorous. Animalistic and full of need. Your lips curled up into a smile as he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Messily and intensely his lips moved against yours as his hands squeezed and touched everywhere he could, as if he didn’t know which part of you he craved to feel more. 

“You’d look prettier on your back though.” He muttered against your mouth, lightly nipping at your bottom lip. You were more than happy to comply.

A string of giggles left your lips as his lips tickled over your stomach. You laid flat on the soft covers as Logan settled between the warmth of your thighs. He pried your legs open, fingers digging into your skin as his sharp canines lightly nipped at the plush flesh on your inner thigh. You gasped, though overwhelmed with excitement.

“Logan.” You scolded him, knowing you would have a mark there, but the sound of your voice turned into a delicious whine when he pressed his nose into your panties, inhaling that oh so intoxicating scent of yours. 

An almost animalistic growl rumbled in his chest, “I’ve been thinkin’ about this sweet pussy all day.” He pressed a hard kiss to your hole, the bridge of his nose bumping your clothed clit. The sudden pressure had you gasping for air, your chest pounding with anticipation.

Your panties were off your body and thrown over his shoulder in a split second, his lips latching on to your clit with reckless urgency. One would think this man hadn’t seen you in weeks, when he had seen, and taken you only two nights ago. Alas, that was one the things you loved the most about Logan, his unending need to touch you, to feel you, to be all over you. You thought he would get tired eventually, but his drive was almost animalistic. He never had enough, though he often held back for your sake. 

His tongue lapped at your pussy with abandon. From your hole to your clit, circling and sucking before diving back into your walls. Squirming, you were chasing his mouth with your hips, body overcome with pleasure as he worked your walls. It annoyed him at times, the way your hips moved and lifted off the mattress with sensitivity as he fucked you with his tongue, when his nose brushed against your clit. With a frustrated grunt, he grabbed a hold of your thighs and pressed your knees against your stomach, holding you down and spreading you open for him to do as he pleased. 

“You squirm too fucking much.” He huffed, but there was a slight bit of amusement laced in his tongue.

Your response came in the form of a whimper, a pathetic sound that only grew louder when two thick fingers replaced his tongue inside your wet hole. He looked up at you with pure primal need as his fingers worked your tight walls, crooking against that one spot that had you crying.

“Please, please Logan.” You didn’t know what you were pleading for. Mercy? Sweet release? To be ruined? You didn’t know. 

Logan raised an amused eyebrow at you, wet lips curled up into a tiny smirk as he moved his tongue back to your clit. He licked and sucked to match each delicious drag of his fingers. The sounds leaving him were just as filthy as the things he was doing to you, groaning and grunting into your pussy as he ate you like a starving man. 

It was no surprise that he had you shaking and crying, overcome with pleasure, eyes blurry with tears, your release rapidly approaching. You latched on to his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as your pathetic sounds filled the room. 

“That feels so—ugh—feels so good—please.” Were you making any sense? No. Did he care? Fuck no. Seeing you so desperate, so consumed with pleasure, a complete and utter mess for him, it snapped something in him. Deep inside the most perveted and secluded corner of his mind, he liked it. And though he shouldn’t, he wanted more. 

Your release was hard and sudden, your loud sounds were almost as overwhelming as the feeling of his tongue still lapping at your sensitive clit. You were writhing on the mattress, nearly crying as you had no option but to take it, it wasn’t like you could run away, not with the way his free held you down, one hand of his was stronger than all of you combined. All you could do was sob and pull at his hair as he dragged out your orgasm. 

“L-Logan.” You pleaded weakly, throat dry as you pushed yourself up on your elbows, chest glistening with a layer of sweet, lightly clinging to the fabric of Logan’s shirt. All you could see was his dark hair before his eyes met yours. The look behind his eyes was indescribable but it had you clenching you around nothing when his fingers left you. 

Your thighs twitched in aftershock when his mouth left you. You felt him press his forehead against your thighs, his hardened breath fanning against your hot skin for a long second. He needed a second to calm down, keep himself under control, he couldn’t let his primal instincts get the best of him.

You ran your fingers along his face, threading through the hair along his cheek and you silently ushered him up. He complied, in an instant settling between your open legs to find your mouth again. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, it was all so much for your clouded mind. His fingers were on your hair as his mouth took yours with growing urgency. You could feel him through the roughness of his jeans, brushing against your clit in ways that made you dizzy. You needed him, and you needed him bad. You reached down, trembling fingers fumbling with his belt, but before you could undress him he was pulling back, rough fingers holding your wrist.

“Hold on, just hold on a minute.” He was breathing hard, chest pounding as he looked at your confused face. 

“Wait, why? What's wrong?” God, you were too sweet, too kind for him, he couldn’t do it. 

“I just… Shit.” He closed his eyes, jaw set as tried to control his clouded mind, but he could only do so much to restrain all of the filthy things he craved to do to you. The way you were looking up at him, eyes big with concern, gentle hands holding his face, preventing him from going anywhere. “I think we should stop. I should stop.”

“Oh… I mean.. We can stop whenever but.. Why? Did I do something wrong?” You were sitting up, and the sadness and disappointment in your pretty eyes made him curse at himself.

“No. No. Fuck, no. I’m the problem. I don’t think I can hold myself back anymore.” He finally admitted it, words leaving his chest with heaviness. Your face remained the same, confused.

“Well, why would you? I never asked you to.” It finally dawned on you what he meant, and you were unbothered, if anything the look on your face was of eagerness. With malice, you threw your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “I don’t want you to hold back with me.”

“Sweetheart..” He was warning you, voice rumbling in his chest as he closed his eyes, one last attempt to keep his composure before it was inevitably too late.

“I won’t break Logan. I trust you. And I want it.” Your last words came out with sharpness, a grueling intensity that had him groaning under his breath. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, almost as if to emphasize your point. And it was like a switch flipped in his head. 

With an uneven breath he was sitting up on his knees, white undershirt thrown to be forgotten somewhere in your room. And you were happily delighted as you watched him toss his belt aside and undo his jeans. He pulled his cock out of his pants with a strained groan and you were holding your breath in anticipation, legs open and welcoming him. His eyes were dark with pure raw desire as he settled between your legs, cock hard and heavy as he kicked the rest of his clothes off like it had insulted him.

“Don’t fucking hold back.” You snapped at him as he held himself up on his forearm, his other hand holding himself against your entrance. Your words shot straight to his cock and his lips curled up into a grin.

“Hold on, pretty.” He rumbled, chest heavy as he sank himself into your wet cunt in one single thrust.

Your lips fell open, eyes instantly rolling at the delicious feeling of his thick and heavy cock splitting you open. It was an intoxicating feeling you couldn’t get enough of; you were fucking sure he had ruined every other man for you. Not that it bothered you. 

The pace he set was grueling from the start, one hand braced on your pillow beside your head and the other on your thigh, rough fingers feeling up and down the skin as he drove his cock in and out of your walls. Sounds of pleasure left your lips almost immediately as the sting of his cock had you dragging your nails up and down his back, leaving red angry marks that healed in a split second. He absolutely adored the burning sensation your nails left on his skin, over and over. 

It was brutal, the way his hips drove you into the mattress as he fucked the life out of you. You did ask him to, you realized that perhaps your lack of restraint when it came to him would indeed be the end of you today, but at least you’d die happy by his cock. His forehead touched yours, eyes on your chest as he forced the buttons of his shirt open. His hand immediately cupped your breast, squeezing and he forced your body up and down on the mattress with each relentless snap of his hips. You cried out, head thrown back as your cunt squeezed his cock, unable to do much other than take everything he had to give you. His hand traveled up your chest to your exposed neck, fingers sprawled over your throat but not putting pressure. 

“Yes. Please, yes, do it.” Delirious, cock-drunk, fucked out, you might have been all of those things, but you were perfectly aware of him surrounding you, caging you in, consuming you. And you wanted all of it.

“Fuck, pretty.” His lips brushed yours as his fingers lightly squeezed your throat. He could feel the air leaving your tightening throat, and the way you squeezed his cock in response had him creasing his eyebrows with pleasure. “This what you wanted? You just wanted it rough, huh?”

You were nodding your head, breathless as blood rushed to your face, the lack of blood flow making you all the more delirious. Absolutely lost, so deep within your pleasure that your brain wasn’t working anymore. All that was consuming your mind was Logan, his scent, his sounds, the tip of his cock brushing that spot that had you squirming. You didn’t even realize tears were coating your cheeks, so lost that your moans had turned into cries. 

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” The hand on your neck moved to swipe away your tears as he leaned down to kiss your cheek in an attempt to bring you back to reality, the gentle gesture a juxtaposition to the ruthless drag of his cock. “There’s not a single thought in that pretty head of yours, huh?”

He adjusted himself above you, his chest pressed against yours, thick hairs tickling your skin with each deep stroke. There was a bit of smugness on his pleasured expressions, seeing you so utterly out of it, his cock being the reason. Seeing such a sweet little thing coming completely undone by his hand gave him a sense of satisfaction that made his cock twitch. 

He held your face, watching the way your eyes rolled back with pleasure, the crease in your eyebrows and your soft lips parted as filthy sounds left you. It was the prettiest of things.

“It just feels so good, huh? Can’t even talk.” he huffed a laugh, his nose brushing against yours as his free hand found your swollen clit and you were gasping as your thighs shuddered, sweet release building. “Talk to me, pretty girl. Tell me how good it feels. ‘Cause this sure feels so fucking good to me.” 

“Mhmm!” It took your brain a long minute to register his words, it was damn near impossible to focus on anything when his cock was making you feel so good, when you could feel your release so close. “Feels so good—Please, need it. Logan please.”

Who was he to ever deny his sweet girl anything? 

Logan moved his free hand to one of your thighs, holding it and bending it so that one of your knees was damn near next to your head. He drilled into you, fucking you into the matress and rubbing harsh circles on your swollen clit until you were nothing but a shaking, sobbing mess, filled with the neverending bliss of your release. 

“That’s it, atta girl.” He pressed his lips to your bruised lips, swallowing the pathetic sounds of your orgasm as he continued to chase his own. Your release seeped through his cock as his hand left your clit. He braced himself on the pillow beside your head he continued to fuck you into his release. “You’re doing so well sweetheart, take it just like that.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you sobbed, the hairs at the base of his cock grazing your clit as he abused your hole. Desperate hands latched on to his hair as you held him, simply taking everything he had to give you. He was close, so incredibly close, composure completely gone from his body as he chased his release with selfish abandon. He dropped his face into your neck, sharp canines nipping at the soft skin, surely to leave a mark or two.

“Please Logan. Come in me. Please, I need it—” Though broken, in between pathetic whimpers you pleaded to him. And if he had any self-restraint left it was fucking gone.

The sound that rumbled in Logan’s chest was purely animalistic, a feral growl and the sound of metallic sharp claws rang in your ears next to your head. You gasped in pleasant surprise, moaning at the thought of him losing control like this. It should concern him, it should. But he couldn’t give one fuck. He coated your insides with his release, eyes closed and eyebrows creased into this twisted expression of rapture. With a couple final thrusts he pumped you full of himself until you were leaking around his cock. Only then did he still his pistoning hips. 

“Fuck.” You heard him grunt in your ear, followed by the sound of his claws sheathing back into his knuckles. Your eyes widened with aftershock and your wash chest was heavy as you panted. 

Logan lifted his head from your neck to look at you, heavy breaths leaving his chest as he tried to bring himself back to reality.

“I… I didn’t mean to..” He trailed off, though slightly apologetic as he caught a glimpse of the three punctured holes on your pillow, he did not regret it one bit. You were quickly shaking your head at him, a tired smile on your face.

“Don’t be. That was like, so hot.” You bit your lip, throwing your arms over his broad shoulders as you pulled him into a kiss. He hummed, hand beside your head as he brushed your hair out of your face. “You owe me some new pillows though.”

“Yeah? Might owe you more than that then.” A smug smirk replaced his concern as he rolled his hips, making you aware of his still hard cock, hot and heavy in your walls. You gasped, wide eyes meeting his own. “What? You thought I was done with you?” 

With a hold of your arm he flipped you on your stomach, the sudden movement making you whimper. But the thought of him taking you over and over sure had you eager in anticipation. Though as his cock sunk into your cunt once more you were beginning to wonder just how much your curiosity was going to cost you. Surely a whole day in bed tomorrow would be in order. He was so going to be the death of you. Little did you know, you were already going to be his.

[mahgyu]

──── In the beginning of your relationship, you learned that Satoru was the type who liked to sleep cuddling. Before meeting you, Satoru used to sleep hugging a pillow, even. It wasn't exactly a necessity for him, but just something he liked and that made him fall asleep faster. You, on the other hand, weren't exactly that type.

Hugs before sleeping? Perfect. Having someone on top of you while trying to sleep? Not so perfect. Fortunately, the two of you reached an agreement about that.

But sometimes, like today, Satoru was extremely clingy. He was sleeping deeply, with his body completely on top of yours, his face buried in the curve of your neck, and a leg trapped between yours.

You loved holding him that way, having the strongest man you had ever known so vulnerable curled up in your arms and sleeping peacefully. Satoru slept heavily when he felt that comfortable, and the deeper he slept, the heavier he became on you. As mentioned, your boyfriend is a strong guy, so now it was almost uncomfortable for you.

You feel this pressure against your chest as he rests on you, completely at ease. You thought that maybe, if you tried hard enough, you could fall asleep, but no, it’s not possible.

"Baby..." You whisper, hoping it will be enough to wake him, but he just keeps snoring, each snore reverberating through your body.

"Toru...?" You try again, a little louder.

"SATORU!" Still nothing. He barely moves a bit in his sleep, letting out a particularly loud snore.

OK. Plan B. If you can't get him off, it's time to slide down. Only after two unsuccessful attempts, you somehow manage to do it, taking a big breath as you escape. You haven't even fully turned to the side when Satoru wakes up, confused and abandoned, with the source of warmth under him gone. He moves his hand aimlessly over the sheets until he feels you.

"Where are you going?" He murmurs sleepily, moving closer to you. "No..." A heavy arm wraps around you, pulling you back to him with ease. There’s a soft hum as he feels your body fit into his.

"Toru?" You call him sweetly. "You know I can't sleep like this, hmm? Come on." You pat his arm, signaling for him to let you go.

Satoru doesn't move. Instead, he just makes some whiny sounds before rubbing his face in your hair.

"Come on, let me go, please?" More pleading.

"Nuh-uh, I don't want to." He whines. "Hug me." He pouts, looking so needy and neglected.

"Love, you're acting like a baby" You complain.

"Because I am. I'm your baby!" He says defiantly. "So, you should treat me like one."

At this point, you know it won't help to try to convince him when he's in this mood. You sigh, deciding to give up and give in.

About five minutes pass in complete silence and then Satoru quietly asks: "You really can't sleep?" The thought of this now bothers him. How could he relax knowing that you're not even comfortable?

"Mhm" You respond as he pulls separates from you.

"OK, I'll give up the hug time for you!" He sighs, rolling away from you dramatically. A few minutes later, he sighs again, a bit louder.

This is his cue to tell you that you should give in and cuddle with him. But you can't, having finally found a position that relaxes all the right places in your body, perfect for falling asleep.

"Are you really going to leave me abandoned?" His voice is so stupidly captivating that it makes you melt. You can't say no to that.

Satoru smiles when he hears the rustling of the sheets, your body moving toward him.

With open arms, he welcomes you back as you rest your head on his chest. "I think I can sleep like this..." You admit as he smiles, making sure you're comfortable but still wrapped up in him.

Hiii, long time no see, uh? 👀This time I brought something cute, a thought I had because I've been feeling so needy and missing our Gojo😞

(It is not well corrected, please ignore any possible mistakes.)

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome. 🫶🏻💕

⠀

[marvelstan0905]

Interruptions

Kenji Sato X FEM!S/O! Reader [afab]

TW :Smut/explicit language and descriptions/ implied sex/brief Emi mention/Mina cameo/Mixed POV/ pnv/ fingering

⚠️MINORS DNI⚠️

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

Hours and hours of baseball, taking care of Emi, dealing with the KDF, his dad and other mental exhaustion, Kenji was stressed. Relief, yes relief that's what he needed and what better way to do that than with his lovely partner. The minute he got the chance to pin his partner down, Kenji got to work.

"Mhmm..sweetheart..what's gotten into you?"I kissed him back with equal fervor whiles tilting my head. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Kenji's heart skipped a beat as his wife kissed him, her words sending a shiver down his spine. He savored the feel of my arms around his neck, my body pressed close to his. As I whispered into his lips, a sly smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Mmm..I just miss my girl..and I miss being inside you"He huskily replied shamelessly, his hands roaming across my thighs, gently squeezing my skin. My skin felt hot as he was being so goddamn shameless.

"You know you can't be saying such lewd things?" I breathed shyly as he pulled off my shorts and panties, tossing them behind him. A sultry chuckle left his lip as he bit down hard onto my neck causing me to whimper.

"Why not, huh? MAKE ME STOP. I can say things ALOT worse than that" Kenji whispered, challenging me to even TRY IT, whiles nibbling on your ear. Kenji wasn't gonna waste time with clothes, he was wanted his girl NOW.

"W-Well..K-Kenji..d-dont be so vulgar" She flushed whiles tilting her head. I wasn't expecting any late night love making. Especially Kenji's forward and lewd behavior. Usually he was so so soft and sweet, didn't seem so today.

"I said make me baby, now shut up and let daddy take care of you "Kenji rasped firmly and dominantly. My mouth closed with a squeak only for a gasp to fall out as Kenji plunged two fingers inside me.

"K-Kenji" I gasped as my nails dug into his biceps. My legs tried to close on instinct but Kenji spread them open with his knees still keeping me pinned against the wall.

"Aww..You're so wet already..Good for me cause we don't have much time" He was right. Emi was gonna wake up in about an hour. Kenji liked taking his time with intimacy, he enjoyed worshipping me and showing my body the most delicate care but not today. Kenji gently slid his fingers out and gave me a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you so much..god I need you." He whispered in reassurance and slight desperation.

"I love you too, my love" I smiled. Kenji unzipped his jeans quickly before taking his hard cock out of underwear with a slight sigh of relief. I yelped slightly as he picked me and didn't even hesitate before stretching my pussy open. "K-Kenji"

Dear God, the sigh of relief this man let out as he was welcomed by your warm, tight velvety walls. It was as if all stressed vanished. Kenji's hands tightened around his lover's hips and he began pounding into her relentlessly. "Y-Youre such an angel, my love. Y-Youre so good to me. So beautiful. A good girl. And all for me" Kenji grunted letting out a guttural groan.

My brain turned to mush the second the head of his cock hit at my sweet spot. My back arched into him and my head fell back as moans left my lips like a broken record.

"C'mon, baby. You. Can. Be. Louder. Than. That" Kenji's thrusts deepened and increased in pressure with each word. Each brush against my g-spot sent me spiraling as my eyes rolled to the back of my head and my walls tightened around him.

"Atta girl. You're so tight..christ" Kenji groaned. His fingers were digging into my hips as he relentlessly pounded into me with no chance of easying up or stopping. My moans raised in pitch and volume. My hands dug into his biceps. "You're so close, aren't you, my love? Make me a mess for me. Do that for me?"

If I could answer I would but he was so deep and so goddamn good at making me come undone, I couldn't even respond. My brain short circuits with each thrusts. I screamed his name like prayer, because he felt so good. I could see stars and what looked to be heaven as my orgasm washed over me like a wave. Lord almighty, he always succeeds to make me make a mess all over his cock. Kenji smirked in triumph, a brush to his ego.

"That's it, my girl. Y-Youre doing so well. I-Im so close and I'm gonna fill you up, okay? Make you all nice and warm" Kenji whispered tracing sensual kisses all over my jaw. I was sensitive and the way he was going, I was gonna cum again.

"Pardon the interruption, but Emi has woken up early" Mina's voice broke my state of bliss of bliss as we heard her voice through Kenji's watch. Kenji cursed and almost yelled from frustration. He was so close to finish line.

"Interuptions. Interruptions." Kenji groaned annoyed as his hips still didn't stop moving. "Give me five minutes."

Kenji moved with extra vigor and desperation. He was so close. His thrusts were deep, fast and erratic but they remained constantly hitting my sweet spot. My toes curled once again as I felt the heat washing over me again. Kenji let out a long groan as he finally caught his relief and his seed filled my womb. I panted heavily from the second orgasm in a close time period. Kenji kissed my cheek and lips, affirming me.

"Well done,my beautiful girl. I'll come take care of you just now. Give me a few minutes and we'll go for round two okay?" Kenji whispered into my lips. I just nodded still blissed out. Kenji pulled himself out and laid me down on the bed. Giving both of us a quick clean clean before shuffling to elevator to take care of Emi. Mina, ever so present kept pestering him.

"I'm coming. I'm coming"

-The Lord will forgive me for the filth I have posted and he will forgive YOU, for reading it🥺 If you guys want more smut..uh..let me know..because I need some time to process the filth I have written for daddy Kenji😈 I love you. Stay safe, drink water and stay hydrated and healthy🥰

Credits to @soranatus for the gif😊

[midnightarcheress]

stress-relief

husband!Simon helping his wife!reader with her stress <3 cw: nsfw. mdni. fem reader, masturbation, squirting, a lil overstim.

you shuffle through the bag to find the keys to your home, only to drop it the minute you raise it to unlock the door. great. it’s one of those days where everything goes wrong, and you want nothing more than to shut out the world and curl up in bed, silently praying for the next one to be better. 

you pick up the keys from the doormat and swing open the door of your flat, hoping that the familiar scent flooding your lungs will help you ground yourself back to a more serene state. tossing your coat and bag aside, your gaze falls on the tall man quietly reading on the sofa, sweetly mouthing a “welcome back, love.” that you dismiss with a grunt, stomping your way to the bedroom.

‘uh-oh.’ Simon thinks, siren already buzzing and red light blinking in his brain, making him pull up to his feet at god-speed and quickly follow you to your shared room, being met with your clothes scattered around and the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. he promptly puts away your discarded attire and sits on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for you.

you stay in the shower for some good thirty minutes, allowing the water to wash away your stress as you massage your scalp. the weight finally falls from your shoulders and flows down the drain, leaving you alone with the tiredness that’s been brewing in your tense muscles since you stepped out of the house. with a long, weary sigh, you drape the towel around your body and walk out the bathroom, tiny droplets cascading from your hair to your chest, descending on the swell of your breasts and stirring your husband’s cock in his pants.

“gonna tell me wha’ got you so cranky, dove?” he asks with the slightest of teasing, knowing he’s staggering on the thin line of your temper.

“‘m sorry, jus’ a hard day.” you mutter sheepishly, turning to get some well-deserving comfy clothes on the dresser

“c’mere,” you barely have time to react before Simon pulls you by the wrist onto the bed, positioning your body between his legs as he rests on the headboard, “talk to me, lovie.”

his hands brush your arms delicately, fingers running up and down your skin as you start addressing the misfortunes of your day. how a jerk cut you off in traffic, how a client screamed at you on the phone after you explained it wasn’t possible to fulfill his request, how your long awaited sweet treat after lunch fell straight to the floor, how your mother called just to raise hell at you for not visiting enough, how your boss scolded you for a mistake that wasn’t even your fault.

“hm, she said tha’?” he murmurs, massaging the knots on your shoulders and slowly drifting his hands downwards, opening up the lightly damp towel that’s clinging to your frame as you ramble. his rough, calloused skin finds its way to your soft tits, gently kneading the fat while his lips plant small kisses all over your neck.

“i swear that woman’s out to get me, don't know how i haven’t been fired yet.”

“she knows tha’ place would fall apart without ya, doll. you’re the only one with a brain there,” he coos sweetly in your ear, fingers traveling down your stomach and reaching your mound, making your breath hitch in your throat. Simon smirks at your reaction, feeling your head tipping back to rest on his shoulder and your still wet hair soaking his shirt, “let me help you decompress, eh?”

you, too tired to resist the offer, let him spread your legs with ease, compliant to the touch of your loving husband. his middle finger smears the hasty arousal leaking from your cunt through your slit, softly caressing your folds as you melt into his arms. “so wet f’me, love.” he chuckles, slightly rubbing your clit as you hum.

his moves are tame, gradually pooling the warmth in your belly, taking his time to shape your tension until it’s the right moment to set you free. his finger toys with your entrance before sliding in, feeling the familiar walls of your cunt clenching around it, causing you to breathe heavily at just the beginning.

“you like tha’?” he whispers, introducing another finger on your tight hole as you turn to bury your face on his neck, mewling with pleasure and pain while he stretches you, digits hitting all the right spots. by the time he speeds up the thrusting, your moans are erratic, gasped, barely leaving your throat as you grasp his forearm in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, even with your brain reaching the fucked-out point by a simple touch.

his thumb lazily strokes your swollen nub as he continues to be knuckles-deep inside of your velvety walls, curling his fingers just enough to earn a squeal out of you. the coil on your lower stomach tightens, fibers threatening to snap at any second as Simon murmurs sugary praises in your ears whilst nipping the skin where your neck meets your shoulder, the love bite’s stings only intensifying the pleasure coursing through your bloodstream.

“Simon, ’m gonna-” you don’t even have the energy to complete your sentence before your juices flood on his hand, the god’s nectar gushing from your pussy and dripping from his wrist onto the long forgotten towel, as he bullies your clit to overstimulation. you cry out his name like a prayer, begging whatever higher power out in the universe to let you keep that sensation forever.

“looks like someone really needed tha’,” he laughs and you feel the deep rumbling from his chest on your naked back, only driving you closer to the edge as your legs convulse at the overwhelming thrill of your nervous system. your frantic moans echo in the room when Simon raises his free hand to your nipple, rolling the hardened tip between his thumb and index, painting twinkling stars in the ceiling, the scintillation being too much to keep your vision clear. “think ya got another one f’me, princess?” 

he doesn’t wait for your answer; he knows how to treat his precious wife and can cite by heart the prescription to get you to sleep better than any pill would. tears prickle in the corner of your eyes when he starts again, just barely giving you time to recover from the near out-of-body experience. 

his new rhythm is harsh, pulling your thighs - fully covered in slick and arousal - over his to keep you spread open, and fiercely pounding two digits inside you. you squirm and press yourself harder against his broad chest, babbling incoherently as he pumps his thick and scarred fingers somehow even deeper than before. 

“Si, ‘s too much, i can’t-” you choke out, streams rolling down your cheeks as he builds another orgasm out of you. half-lidded eyes meet his hazel irises in a lustful gaze, pleading in agony for another release before your body gives out.

it doesn’t take much before a jolt of electricity tingle beneath your skin and makes you cum, getting you blissfully drunk by finger-fucking only while your peak ripple through your core. your hands sternly grip on the sheets under your limp body, the frenzy running its way through every corner of your being, clouding your vision and leaving you in a divine peaceful haze.

your limbs twitch slightly as you come down from your high, Simon holding you tight in his burly arms and pressing kisses on your pretty face. “you did so good, lovie,” he praises, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your belly, “could’ve given ya s’much more but your eyes are so droopy already,” his quiet laugh almost lull you to sleep right there and then, “feeling better?”

you nod, eyes tempting to close as the fatigue washes over you, weariness creeping up your mind after a hell of a day and a celestial end to it. “thank you, Si.” you mumble with nothing but affection in your voice, utterly elated by the sight of your devoted husband cradling you. 

“anything for ya, my wife.”

just a little something i thought of while procrastinating my other works lol

[slvttyplum]

toji filled you out well. you knew how to take every inch of him and not complain; instead, you embraced it and welcomed him with open arms. when it came to his dick, it slid into you nicely, especially when he already had you leaking before hand.

whenever he was deep inside you, rubbing his tip on your sweet spot, it just felt so right; there wasn't a word besides "perfect," and that wasn't even a stretch; everything your body was experiencing made you float. the way he did things made you want to give into whatever it was he was saying to you in that moment.

his dick was big, long enough to push right into your sweet spot to have your legs quivering and your thighs spread out, but not too thick to the point where it hurt whenever he would push into you. he was the perfect size for you, and that's what turned you on.

toji's dick was made for you and is one of a kind. if you think that he just filled you out in between your legs, you would be wrong; he filed out your hands and mouth just as well, which made it ten times easier to suck him off and stroke him at the same time.

he was easy to suck off; he slid right into your mouth, slowly inching towards the back of your throat, rubbing against the roof of your mouth, and his pre cum leaking down your tongue. you didn't have to work extra hard to try to keep your mouth open or make your mouth sore so that he could cum.

sucking his dick was your second favorite thing to do besides sliding up and down his dick whenever you wanted. it was just for you.

at first, toji was offended when you told him that his dick was the "perfect size." it was a weird, complex thing, guys hate when you say that, but this time it was actually true.

it wasn't about his dick being small because it was long enough to please you; it was more about the fact that it felt good and pleased you easily.

once toji learned that, he knew he didn't have to hold back when fucking you, and that's why he did it so well. fucking you into, he was drenched with sweat, and the sweat was leaking all over you while pushing you into a mating press.

it was easy to push you into any position he. wanted because he knew that you could take it, that you wouldn't whine out or whimper, and that you were capable of getting the most pleasure because you knew how to take every inch and squeeze around him whenever you felt good.

you took him well, just like he wanted.

[zephyrchama]

"Welcome back, it's been a while."

After a long time has passed, how might the Obey Me! demons welcome you home with a hug?

---

Lucifer tries to approach you in a calm and collected manner, but that facade easily crumbles as he gets closer. His pace quickens and his expression melts into an inscrutable blend of emotion. The man is fighting to stay composed.

He pulls you towards him, unwilling to wait a moment longer to have you in his arms. His gloved hands wrap around your back and waist with a secure grip. Your toes brush the ground as his hug lifts you to eye level, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Welcome back, I've missed you."

---

Mammon sprints up with the goofiest grin imaginable plastered on his face. He catches himself at the last moment though, grinding to a halt as a blush creeps over his ears. He wants to be cool. "You sure are a piece a work to keep The Great Mammon waiting."

His arrogant act is betrayed by the many glances in your direction. By the way he's clenching his fist so hard his knuckles are white, and by the way he immediately crumbles into your open arms the second you reach out. He throws his arms around your shoulders and digs his face into your neck. He grips the back of your top a little too hard, as if you might leave again any moment.

---

Leviathan sheds his insecurities and doubts, all negative emotions, just to be able to bask in your presence again. It's a moment he's looked forward to for weeks. He puts trust into the belief that you've also been looking forward to seeing him.

He wraps his arms and legs around you, unconsciously aiming to get as much skin contact as possible. "I've really missed you, you know!?" he half-shouts before burying his face in your shoulder. You fight to stay standing upright. Every little movement, every minor adjustment in posture you make causes Leviathan to snuggle closer until you can't tell where your limbs end and his begin.

---

Satan can't control all of the overwhelming emotions that hit him at once. He grabs hold of your hand, and with a palm on your back he pulls you close until your entire weight leans against him. At your touch, all he can do is smile.

"Glad to see you again." The two of you sway back and forth, turning your hug into a psuedo-Waltz. When you look into his eyes, Satan gives your hand a kiss and presses your intertwined fingers against his face.

---

Asmodeus laughs as he barrels into you. "Did you miss me? Of course you did!"

You stumble back several steps yet he catches you before you fall, latching onto your side like a matching puzzle piece. He rubs his cheek over your head, pausing every few seconds to give you a kiss as his free hand enthusiastically traces its way up your back.

Asmodeus is the most reluctant to let go. Making a mess of your hair and clothes only gives him a calculated opportunity to touch you more as he tidies up your appearance. His caress lingers over your collarbone and around your ear. His fingers brush against your mouth, which he then brings to his own lips.

---

Beelzebub falls to his knees, relieved to see you return safe and sound and glad to be by your side once more. His arms curl around your hips. He noses his face into your chest and looks up with a content smile as he greets you, "welcome back."

You lean over to return the hug, running your hands through his hair. You don't expect Beelzebub to stand, picking you up in the process. You steady yourself on his shoulders as he rises, his violet eyes not wavering from you for a second, tempting him to steal a kiss.

---

Belphegor wraps his arms around your shoulders and practically falls on you. He doesn't seem concerned that you're sinking to the ground. In fact, he's so preoccupied with cuddling up to you that there's no way to avoid sitting on the ground with this demon on top of you.

He curls his body around your legs. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he slowly exhales, "welcome back." He's awake, but nothing will stop him from pretending to be asleep as his grip strength loosens and his face trails down your body.

---

Diavolo laughs amicably as you approach. He wants you to come to him, and is so thrilled to have you back. He bends down to latch his arms under yours and swings you around, sweeping you off your feet as you twirl two, three times, then slow to a stop.

"How have you been?" In due time he wants to know everything, and hear all the stories of your time away in detail. For now, he's got you locked in a bear hug. You feel his lips brush over your hair as he lightly swings you back and forth.

---

Barbatos' hug is the most restrained. It's simple and polite. At first he was content to just greet you with a gentle handshake and loving gaze. Though, when you request a hug, there is no way he can say no.

He extends his arms around your back, gives you two soft pats, and hesitates for just a moment before letting you go.

At night that evening as you prepare for bed, you find a note in your pocket that Barbatos must have cunningly slipped in without anyone noticing. It's a detailed letter with everything he didn't get to tell you in person.

[wlwloverwrites]

Future Boyfriend

Pairing: 70s!Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: afab reader, reader is wearing a dress, sweat kink?, panty sniffing, squirting, brief handjob, cum play, nipple play, car sex (again) smut (18+) no minors

Summary: Logan, a man supposedly from the future, claims he is your boyfriend, so you ask him to prove it.

A/N: California’s heat wave in September is killing me. No one look at me. This fic just kept getting dirtier and dirtier.

Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS

“So you’re from the future, huh?” You ask looking at the gruff man sitting in the driver’s seat.

“A little more complicated than that, Darlin, but you can say that,” the man reassures.

You hum sarcastically. Choosing to ignore the nickname he gives, which only makes him laugh under his breath. There’s a soft breeze that makes its way into the 1972 Buick Riviera and suddenly you’re hit with the smell of cigars. The smell, no doubt, coming from - “Wait, what’s your name again?”

It’s silent for a second, the only thing that fills your ears is the car’s roar when he hurrily pulls over under a shady tree on the side of the road.

“My name’s Logan,” he huffs playfully as he puts the car in park.

“Logan,” you feel yourself mimicking with a smile on your face.

He looks up at you with a sly smile, his sunglasses are now sitting on the dashboard, which gives you more of him to study.

Your eyes take in his sharp nose, soft eyes, and grown out facial hair before they drop to the three undone buttons on his collared shirt. The hair on his chest makes your fingers itch to undo the last few buttons and tug off his brown leather jacket. You’d be doing him a favor too.

The summer heat is criminal.

As if he read your mind, Logan tugs off his leather jacket, throwing it over his shoulder and to the back seat. You expect him to stop, but his thick fingers work to undo the rest of his buttons as he pulls off his shirt. His shirt falls on top of his leather jacket, leaving him in his low rise jeans held by a thick brown belt and white undershirt.

“So I’m just supposed to believe that you,” you point at Logan, then yourself. “And me end up together?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” He asks raising his eyebrows.

The man is sex on legs. If anything you should be applauding your future-self for fucking and tying the man down.

“Kind of, yeah,” you lie.

“Liar.”

Before you could reply Logan readjusts himself in the driver’s seat. The sight of him widening his legs and throwing his arm over your shoulder has your mind thinking maybe the man isn’t crazy. Words are stuck in your throat when his lips dips to meet the sticky skin on your collarbone.

“Had you wrapped around my finger,” his breath is hot against the junction of your neck as he whispers against your skin.

His flirtatious tone makes you squirm on the leather seats and you find it’s getting harder to ignore the building heat between your thighs. The leather from the bench styles seats sticks to your skin. Your brightly patterned dress does little to separate you from the leather, instead it clings to you body where sweat forms on your skin.

“Prove it.”

Maybe Logan isn’t talking out of his ass or trying to use some lame pick up line. He could be telling the truth.

It’s only fair you give him a chance.

Connecting your lips, the kiss is messy which has you opening your legs and welcoming the left hand that’s gripping your thigh. The arm over your shoulder pushes you closer to him and your hands find his face. Pulling away, you cup his cheeks in your hands as you angle his head to the left. This time when you lips meet, you’re stifling a moan. The hand between your thigh expertly finds your clit over your cotton panties. He pays no mind at the sweat between your thighs, instead he rubs small circles that has you rolling your hips against his hand, begging for more.

“Just like that,” you praise.

His hand doesn’t even flinch.

“I know Darlin.”

He knows what you like.

“Cause you’re from the future?” You can barely spit out your words and whine when Logan pulls your panties to the side. Your brain only comprehends the way his fingers glide through your folds. He nods as he gathers your slick and uses it to rub your clit again.

“I know your body. Had years of practice.”

His words have you whimpering and hiding your face in his neck. The hands that were holding his face fall and greedily grab at his biceps. The muscles are firm in your hands and call for your teeth. Everything about the man makes your mouth water. The carnivorous ache in your teeth makes you feel silly, but you settle for moaning his name instead.

His fingers rub your clit and occasionally tease at your entrance where you’re dripping; however, despite your whines, Logan doesn’t give in. Squirming against his hand, unsure if you’re running to or from him, Logan keeps you in place causing your panties to scratch at your skin. Focusing on his fingers, you try your best to ignore the uncomfortable friction scratching your right inner thigh. Your eyes fall shut and suddenly your nose is hyperaware of the man’s scent. The smell of cheap cigars tickles your nose, but it’s the smell of his sweat that makes your head spin.

His scent makes you widen your legs. The shift allows for more friction on your sensitive skin, but you still choose to ignore it. Distracting yourself with his scent, you bury your nose in his neck and inhale; the way you breathe him in is animalistic. The loud sniff makes Logan laugh, making his fingers pick up their pace. You shift once one, this time a painful whine escapes your lips.

“W-What’s wrong?”

It isn’t his scared question that brings you back to reality, but the halt to his fingers. Your mouth falls shut and you open your eyes to see a very concerned Logan staring down at you.

Worried eyes jump all over your face and body, looking for your pain making your heart skip a beat. His free hand caresses the side of your face and tilts it to face him. He’s so concerned that your blood starts to feel hot.

Did his stare have to be this instense?

Shaking your head you reassure, “It’s nothing.”

Your attempt to comfort him is cut off by his lips. Expecting his teeth to clash with yours, your heads spins once more. Instead his kiss is soft and has you melting into the leather seat beneath you. Wet tongues taste each other, his tongue is romantic while yours is curious.

To him, your taste is comforting. His kiss is making up for lost time. Soft lips are desperate to commit every inch of your mouth to memory.

To you, his taste is addicting. You crave his entire being, his smell, touch, words, and lips. He reels you in with claws.

“Tell me, Darlin,” he begs as his lips travel down to your neck.

Shyly, your hands slip beneath the skirt of your dress and hook your underwear on your fingers and pull them off. Awkwardly you lift your hips to pull off the scratchy, grey material, but Logan is quick to take over.

“I was chafing,” you whisper, clearly embarrassed.

His body visibly relaxes before he shakes his head at the material in a disapproving manner. Meanwhile, his hand between your thighs searches for the irritated skin. Your sharp inhale tells him he’s found it before he gently kneads at your skin, a silent apology.

Careful not to irritate your skin more, Logan goes back to tug off your panties hugging at your thighs. His voice is taunting as he coos, “Don’t worry, I’ll take them off your hands.”

You nod at his words and expect him to toss your panties in the back seat the same way he did his shirt and jacket, but your jaw drops when he brings the cotton up to his nose. The sound of him breathing in the grey cotton fills the car and suddenly your bottom lip stings from the force of your teeth. You watch as his eyes roll back and you swear you see pink reach out and taste the wet cotton.

Pride builds in the bottom of your stomach as your body moves before you can stop it. You climb on his lap, thighs trapping the both of his, similar to the way your arms trap his neck. The steering wheel digs into the small of your back, but the bulge on Logan’s jeans brushing against your pussy does a great job in distracting you. Playfully, Logan jerks his hips upward, bouncing you on his lap, but you watch as his carefully stuffs the grey cotton into his back pocket.

“My future boyfriend is such a pervert,” you giggle.

“You like it,” he smirks as his hand finds its way between your thighs.

A gasp escapes your lips when two fingers shove themselves inside you, no longer playing the teasing game. Your pussy clenches, struggling to accommodate the thickness of his fingers. Logan wastes no time and ignores your pleads for a an extra second. His fingers, wet with your arousal, curl and hit the spongy spot inside you that has you cursing his name against his neck.

Your hips ride his hand, eager for more despite your whines. His fingers curl expertly and have you hiding your face in his neck. Sweat builds at your hairline, your spine, and the back of your neck, but you don’t care. The growing pleasure between your thighs captures your full attention and you pathetically cry Logan’s name, but he shushes you with his lips.

He whispers soft praises against your lips, letting you know it’s okay. The steering wheel digs into your back and the leather seats stick to your shines, holding you in place. With no where to escape, a loud gasp of Logan’s name is his only warning before your pussy gushes on his fingers and onto his jeans. Your heart races as the pressure in your lower tummy releases. Squeezing Logan’s fingers so tight it has him cursing as he watches your eyes roll back. He groans as a new, sweet scent, one only he can smell, fills his nostrils.

“Smell like my favorite candy.”

Your ears barely register Logan’s praises on how sweet you smell or the way he tucks the skirt of your dress so he can see the wet mess between your thighs and his jeans. Slipping his fingers out of your pussy, it’s not long after wet fingers find their way to your parted lips and push past your teeth.

“Come on. Taste it.”

His fingers press on your lips, egging you to lick them clean. His dark eyes meet yours and watch as your tongue peeks out and drools over his glistening fingers. Your subtle sweet taste lingers on your tongue and the way he’s looking at you is making you want to swallow down his fingers. Rather than feeding you his fingers, he smears your remaining juices on your lips. Your slick coats your lips like a cheap lip gloss, tricking your mind to rub your lips together.

“My turn,” Logan groans before his lips kiss yours.

The kiss is filthy.

His tongue licks your lips clean, almost like a dog. It should gross you out, the way he’s licking you, as if he’s eating you from the source, but it doesn’t. He groans at your familiar taste as your blind, impatient hands reach to tug off the thick, brown belt trapping his cock.

“Taste so good,” Logan moans, his hands reaching down to help you when a frustrated whine falls past your lips.

The metal clinks and the sound of his zipper makes your ears perk up. Taking over, your fingers hook on his belt loops and tug off his jeans. Your eyes widen when they are immediately rewarded with the sight of dark, wiry hairs leading up to his thick and veiny cock instead of underwear.

“Fuck me,” the curse escapes you before you can even think. It’s quiet so Logan lets you think he didn’t catch it. His thighs flex, a silent beg for your touch and you’re quick to comply. Without wasting time, your hand wraps around his thick cock.

“You’re big,” you whisper. Not as a praise or compliment, but a fact.

Bigger than you expected.

“You can take it,” he nods like he’s talking from experience.

His cock is heavy in your hand and mind races with dirty thoughts. Before you can reply, his hand traps the hand wrapped around his cock. He squeezes your hand as he guides your hand up and down his cock. His thumb pushes yours to circle the tip of his cock. Despite him being the one that guided your hand, despite him expecting the pleasure, his hips shudder beneath you and your name falls past his lips. You watch, memorizing the way his eyes flutter shut.

This time you fist his cock without his help, slapping his hand away.

The head of his cock glisten with precome that makes your mouth water. Your face feels hot when your eyes watch Logan curse under his breath and leak onto your hand. Adjusting yourself on his lap, you decide to use both your hands. Your left hand grabs the base of his cock, while your right hand jerks the rest of his cock.

“You’re so leaky,” you giggle and then some more when his cock spits out onto your hand.

He scoffs at you, but moans your name when your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock. His come piles on your thumb and he groans when it presses against his lips. You smirk when you repeat his words, “Come on. Taste it.”

Shamelessly, Logan’s lips wrap around over your thumb. His tongue licks your thumb clean so when you pop your thumb out of his mouth, it glistens with his spit. His eyes lock with yours and the overwhelming feeling of needing to be full takes over.

Logan sees it in your eyes. There’s a cloudy and dazed look in your eyes when you grab the base of his cock and line him up to your entrance. His rough hands hold your hips as you sit on his cock, gasping at every inch. Logan’s stare where the both of you meet has you drooling on his cock. Despite your slick, he watches as you struggle to take his cock.

“Know you can do, Darlin, you used to do it all the time,” he praises.

Your hands reach out to his shoulders. You pout as you take another inch, “That’s future me though.”

Logan lets out a hearty laugh. His laugh makes your heart flutter. The flutter travels down to your pussy and suddenly the laugh is cut short when your walls squeeze around him. His nails dig into the meat of your hips as he tugs at your skin, encouraging you to ease the burn in your thighs and just sit on his lap.

Aching with need, you furrow your brows as you sink further on his cock. Crying out his name when he slides deeper into your cunt. The head of his cock brushing past the spongy spot inside you.

Drunken with pleasure, Logan’s fingers grip your hips and moans, “Knew I had to find you.”

The pressure in your lower stomach builds as your skin’s temperature begins to rise. Your walls squeeze around his cock, adjusting to the stretch. His cock wet with your slick makes it easier for you to take the last inch of his cock.

“I’m so full,” you whine, cloudy eyes stare up at Logan’s soft stare.

Taking a moment to adjust, your lips find his as your fingers bury themselves in his hair. Tugging at the dark roots and smiling against the beads of sweats that pile on the back of his neck.

The hands that were on your hips rise to the small of your back, pushing your body closer. Forcing you leaning onto his body, your clit rests on the wet, wiry hairs on his pelvis. The hairs tickling your clit every time he nudges your body closer.

His left hand cups the side of your face and groans into your mouth when you carefully lift your hips. Pulling away, a line of spit connect the both of you for a second before it falls onto your chin. With a shaky breath, you work your hips down and sit on his cock with a soft bounce.

“That’s it, Darlin,” he praises, his eyes falling to the plunging neckline of your dress.

His lips kiss down your neck, teeth tugging at the neckline of your dance. Your hands slip from his hair when he yanks your dress to expose your breasts. You gasp as his lips wrap around your nipple, while he rolls the other between his fingers.

“Fuck.”

Logan’s mouth is desperate as he mouths at your nipple, occasionally, groaning into your skin when you grind your hips against his. Holding his head to your chest you focus on bouncing yourself on his cock, setting an even pace while chasing your high.

Your slick drips down his length and he can feel it dripping down his balls. A creamy ring decorates the base of his cock that only gets creamier with each bounce.

“Missed you so much,” Logan groans out on your chest, his mouth pulling away, only to give the same treatment to your other nipple.

Your pussy spasms over his cock trying to commit every vein to memory. The ache in your hips and the pain building from the steering wheel digging into your back is ignored as you mumble Logan’s name like a mantra.

“I’m close.” You cry out, as a weak warning.

You smile when you feel him nod against your chest, his silent way of letting you know that he knows. The roll of your hips get messy and the way your leaking on his cock gives him more than enough to figure you’re close to coming on his cock. You just need that extra push and he’s more than willing to give you that.

“Come on, Darlin,” he hums, slipping a hand between the both of you. The toothy smile he gives you when his fingers find your puffy clit has you whining his name. His eyes drop to your chest again, watching as your tits bounce with every attempt of chasing your orgasm. His fingers are soaked with your sweet slick as he rubs even circles on your clit. Your jaw drops as your body tenses.

“That’s it, darlin. Let go.”

Your walls squeeze his cock as he fights the urge to come inside you. He smiles at your bunched up dress that does little to cover you. Your entire body glistens with sweat and the sweet smell of your pussy fills Logan’s nose. He’s memorized as he watches your head fall back, exposing your neck and feels your walls clench uncontrollably around his cock.

“Ah! Lo-”

Gasping for air, you try to warn him, you really do, but it’s too late. Trying to run away from his fingers and cock, your lift your hips, unintentionally causing his cock to hit that spongy spot inside you before it slaps against his stomach. The lingering feeling of his cock spreading you open has you squirting on his cock with a cry.

“Logan!”

Overstimulated, Logan’s fingers pet your clit softly, smiling when your tired body jerks on his lap. His abs underneath his tank top flex when he sees a wet mess between your thighs, no doubt adding to the puddle on the leather seats. Chasing his orgasm, Logan’s hand reaches down to fist his soaked cock.

“F-fuck,” he stutters as the lewd sounds of Logan fisting his cock fill your ears. His hips flex as moans slip out of his mouth.

Slowly, you become more aware of your surroundings and help Logan finish. Eager to both see and hear how Logan comes, your hand replaces his. Shaky fingers wrap around his cock as your work a tight grip up and down his cock.

“Gonna come for me?”

Your sweet tone makes him throw his head back. A smile creeping on his face when you give him a playful and loud kiss on his cheek.

“Come on, I’m your future girlfriend,” you tease as your flick your wrist and swipe your thumb over the tip of his leaky cock. “You know you want to.”

The giggly banter, the banter he missed so much, has him choking out your name and spilling onto your hand. Spurts of his come land on your dress, on his shirt, and onto your hand. You watch as Logan’s chest rises and falls with every deep breath. His flushed skin glistens with sweat, similar to yours.

The silence is comfortable for a couple minutes as the both of your fix on your clothes onto your sticky skin. Huffing out loud as the heat suddenly begins to hit you, you shift on Logan’s lap. Looking up at him only to find his eyes already looking at you. Suddenly shy, you lower your gaze and look out the car window.

“You’re the first person I looked for.”

His confession is quiet and has you pulling your attention from the swaying trees to the soft eyes staring at you.

“Why?” You ask just as soft. “Why didn’t you wait to meet me how you’re suppose to?”

A part of you wants to bring up the way his fingertips dug into your skin, holding you down as if he was scared you were going to disappear. Maybe bring up the way his kiss press onto your skin just a tad too harsh, desperate with love. You most definitely want to bring up the salty tears that slipped down his cheeks when his cried out your name as he came.

“Just wanted more time with you,” he admits, avoiding eye contact for the first time since he first convinced you to get in his car.

“What do you mean?” You ask with a nervous laugh.

In attempt to comfort you, or maybe it’s for his own comfort, Logan’s rough hands find yours, intertwining your fingers together. His throat feels like its closing, but he still manages to spit out his selfish words.

“I needed more time with you.”

No pressure tags: @eupheme @mrsimpurity @joelsgoldrush @djarins-riduur @superhoeva @d1stalker @moonlight-prose @ozarkthedog @sunsburns @inkedells i love yall !!! Each and every single one of you are so talented and have individually inspired me to write for Logan! So thank you :)

Liked this fic? Leave a comment! Send a compliment in my inbox or reblog!!!!

Read my other Logan fic here

[hysteria-things]

MATT'S STREAM

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris’ relationship isn’t out to the public just yet. when he’s on stream with matt, you tease him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, dry humping, cock warming, degradation if you squint, p in v, semi-public (?)

ASSUME YOU'RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,521

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hiii i’m excited for this. let’s see how this goes :)

chris sits at his desk, spam clicking and smashing buttons on his keyboard. he talks to his brothers in his headset.

matt’s streaming on twitch right now, meaning that thousands of fans are watching the three of them play fortnite. you’ve been with chris for a few months, yet the fans have no idea. you both collectively agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye.

hence why you are seated next to him out of frame, watching the stream go down. your eyes scan to his side profile. his brows furrow in concentration, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on the computer screen. you hear the boys scream in his headset, and he slams his hands onto his lap.

“damn.” he grunts out, glancing over at you for a moment and smiling.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” he says into the mic before muting it and taking off his headset. he turns his face cam off and goes into the bathroom to do his business.

he comes out beats later, sitting back in the gaming chair, wiggling to get comfortable. you get up, which gains his attention. “you doing okay?” he asks.

“yeah. just need to stretch.”

before he could unmute his mic and turn the cam back on, you push the chair back slightly to have enough space to straddle his lap. he wraps his arms around your waist and welcomes you closer, kissing your collarbone. “they’re going to think i’m shitting.” he says jokingly.

your arms snake around his neck and you lean back to look at him. “say your camera broke.”

he smirks and puts back on his headset. “i’m back.” he starts. “for some reason, my camera is acting weird.”

“it’s all good. as long as we can still hear you.” matt’s voice replies.

the thin fabric you call panties rubs against his bulge through his red plaid pajama pants. you have a shirt on, one of chris’s FRESH LOVE t-shirts that covers you enough to look like a nightgown. a sensation tingles between your legs, and you start to move your hips slowly.

you hear chris groan, pressing a button on his keyboard. “what are you doing?” he asks sternly.

“i need to get comfortable.” you tease, rocking your hips harder. he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and clicks unmute again.

you rest your head in the crook of his neck and continue to rock your hips, feeling him grow beneath you. he still talks to his brothers normally, but his performance on the game doesn’t look good.

“what the fuck is up with you, chris?” nick questions into the headphones.

“sorry,” he mumbles.

your hands find their way to the back of his neck and tug at his hair lightly. you breathe heavily to not make any noise since his mic is right next to your head. you don’t even notice your hips rutting and body tensing when you feel your release soak your underwear.

you exhale shakily, lifting your body and looking at the mess you made. there’s a wet stain on his pants on top of his hard-on. you don’t even have to look to know your underwear is ruined.

chris looks at you confused, before following your gaze. you go to get up but he grabs your hips and places you back to where you’re hovering over him. he unties his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. he moves the mic away from his mouth, leaning toward your ear.

“don’t move or make a fucking sound,” he warns in a low tone you could barely hear.

he pushes your panties to the side and guides you down onto his cock, fighting off the hissing noise trying to escape your lips as he stretches you out tenderly and slowly. you and chris started having sex not long ago, but even after a few days without it, you had to readjust again.

this, however, is a first.

you guys never tried cock warming before. you felt so nervous. so excited. so full.

after multiple rounds of fortnite that felt like it lasted hours, your brain felt fuzzy despite not even doing anything. every time he talked, laughed, or celebrated a victory or loss, he’d thrust deep inside of you. and it drove you nuts.

you hear commotion on the other end of the headset. “fuck!” chris screams, jolting his hips further into you than at any other time. your eyes roll ever so slightly, mouth agape as your bottom lip grazes over his bare shoulder. it’s too late to take back the moan that came out of you.

chris’ hands make their way to your ass and squeeze hard, setting a reminder.

be quiet. right.

your patience becomes thinner and thinner, since it’s already been about thirty minutes. too desperate, you start to grind against him.

before he can do or say anything, you grab his mic and fist your hand over it so nobody can hear.

“please let me ride you. i promise i’ll be quiet.” you beg.

“so needy.” he sighs, taking your hand off of the mic and returning to the game.

rutting your hips forward, you start bouncing, your clit swollen from sitting still for so long without doing anything about it. you don’t know, but you could’ve sworn you heard chris groan.

too busy focusing to try to not make a sound by biting your lip, you hear sentences being scattered around from the boys.

“i don’t know, man.”

“this game sucks!”

“is your camera working yet?”

“no, sorry!”

little do they know, here you are, fucking yourself on your boyfriend’s dick like a bitch in heat.

you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss a spot before biting down to stifle your pathetic sounds. chris hisses at the sudden contact and misses a kill, the other person killing him instead, costing them to lose.

“for fuck sake. chris, are you sure you’re okay?” matt asks in annoyance.

the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot unexpectedly, forcing a whine out of you. “actually.” chris starts. “i don’t feel good, to be honest. i might log off for tonight.”

he quickly ends the discord call and shuts down his computer, stopping your movements. you look at him with glassy eyes, a frown portraying your face. he runs a finger up your spine before gripping onto your hair and yanking it, making you whimper. “first, you ruin my pants.”

he thrusts himself up into you, taking you by surprise with a gasp.

“then, you tease me.”

another thrust.

“now, you can’t follow simple fucking instructions.”

again.

a broken moan comes out of you, chris slapping your ass. “need me to fuck you so bad you can’t even wait two hours. instead, you get off by fucking yourself on my dick like your life depends on it. so pathetic.”

you whine of embarrassment, yet you don’t want this to stop.

“please.” you breathe out. “i’m sorry. please fuck me.”

with that, chris grabs your thigh with his free hand and starts plunging into you from below. his grip is still tight on your hair. you let out breathy moans left and right since each thrust takes the air out of your lungs. your eyes start prickling with tears from all of the built-up pleasure. “oh my— fucking— jesus— god.”

chris chuckles at your failed attempt to form a sentence. your moans transition into high-pitched squeals when he hits the angle that makes a knot form in your stomach. he releases his grip from your hair and moves it to your jaw, his hand that was on your thigh coming up to your mouth. he shoves in his middle and ring finger for you to suck on.

god, this felt good, and boy was it hot.

drool starts dribbling down your chin as you moan around his fingers and your eyes roll back. chris twitches inside you causing him to groan and take out his fingers, but your mouth still hangs open as unholy sounds come out of it. he releases your jaw and cups your ass with both hands.

“holy shit.” you whine. “i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, y/n. fuck you’re doing so good for me.”

because you certainly don’t have to be told twice, your whole body trembles and you fall forward. your hands cup the sides of his neck.

“i love you.” you moan into his neck as he continues thrusting to get to his release. “i love you so fucking much— jesus god.” you cry out when you feel chris filling you up.

he thrusts a few more times into your trembling body to get down from his high.

“look at me.” he says softly, bringing your head up to make eye contact. he smiles and kisses your lips. “i love you too, ma.”

when you come back to your senses you lift yourself off of him and stumble to his bed to sit down. chris pulls up his boxers and checks his phone that’s been blowing up on the desk in front of him.

[doomsdaybby]

come on baby, get in

prompt: severely touch starved reader x eddie munson

eddie munson x plus size fem!reader. just you and eddie at lovers lake sharing a joint, and eventually ending up in the back of your car. 18+, purely smut, situationship/overly familiar 'friends'/‘what are we?’, touch starved!reader 🥺 (3.9k)

small cw’s for drug use (obvs), sex whilst high, unprotected sex, creampie 😛

was listening to animals by nickelback when I was writing some of this and became even more inspired. so everyone say thank you nickelback & @blahblahblahs4208

“Did you think this was how we’d be spending time together after y’been busting your ass waiting tables all week?” Eddie says beside you in a gradual exhale, a release of Reefer Rick’s finest greenery slipping past each word in a misty grey haze.

You tilt your head slightly to the left to peer fondly at him, cheek chilly as it presses to the cold rear window of your Ford Escort. His lids are heavy, dark eyelashes almost kissing. Eddie took hard hits, easily managing three of your singular drags at once.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” you smile, all jest and no malice. Eddie chuckles at that, a deep but airy sort of laugh that has your smile stretching even wider. His eyes are glossy, dark brown marbles that reflect the moonlight creeping out of the inky night sky above you.

You want to blame the drugs, why you notice the way they glint in the light, but it’s really just because his eyes are really fucking pretty and you can’t help but stare when you think he’s not paying attention.

Eddie was always paying attention.

You’re both perched atop the trunk of your car beside Lovers Lake, tyres barely crossing the harsh line where grass meets sand, a mere seven feet or so from the gentle rippling of water, passing a rather large joint between you.

You're tucked in on yourself, hands crossed over your sternum, knees pulled up so the heels of your dirtied scuffed sneakers sit snugly on the lip of the trunk. Eddie lays similarly but more slack, one arm hidden behind his head beneath the mess of deep brown hair that's frizzy with the sticky humidity of the faded day.

You sway your legs gently towards him to knock your knees every so often. Purposeful, very purposeful, but he didn’t need to know that. Though Eddie pushes back twice as hard each time on instinct.

Once Friday evening rolled around and you hadn’t even so much as called Eddie like you do ritualistically every other night, let alone seen him since the Friday before that, he had finally decided that enough was enough.

So come this Saturday evening, you’re slinging your worn tote bag over your shoulder as you exit the diner door, the jolly ting ting of the bell above you ringing shrill in your ears after hearing it on repeat since it was such a busy day.

Eddie was waiting for you, which was a welcome surprise, one that has a dusty flush spreading along your chest and collarbones, especially since he had never picked you up from work before.

“Does my pretty girl need a ride?” He would ask confidently with a smirk, swinging the passenger door of your car open with a gentlemanly bow that had waves of hair capsulating his face, unaware of the butterflies that churned in your stomach and crept up the back of your throat.

My pretty girl. Mine. Mine.

He had been charming, all cheery smile lines and bared teeth, not that you really needed much convincing. Especially when a fresh set of clothes sat neatly folded on the passenger seat, your heart swelling double in size knowing that they smelt a little bit like him - musk and discount deodorant. Eddie.

He knew where the spare key to your apartment was hidden, tucked safe and sound into the soil of the sad-looking hanging plant pot that hung beside the door above the buzzer that no longer worked.

Rarely did he ever let himself in, as it was only for emergencies, especially rarely swiped the keys to your car from the paint-chipped console table in your hallways. But in his head, the need to spend some time with you tonight was an emergency, and a dire one at that.

Flash forward exactly two hours later and here you were. Your busy week soon fading into the blanket of twinkling stars above you akin to the blooming puffs of smoke exiting your bodies, mingling in a dance amongst the gentle breeze.

“Make any good tips?” Eddie asks, taking another brief selfish drag before offering it to you. You scoff, lingering on the feathery brush of your fingers with his as you graciously accept the joint.

“What?” his smile was engulfing, eyes creasing at the corners and the cool night breeze dusting his cheeks a peachy hue, “You tryna tell me that a catch like you hasn’t been makin’ good tips?”.

The inhale of your hit sticks in your throat, wheezing over the gentle burn swirling around your tonsils. You sit up a little, propping yourself up on your elbow in an attempt to get some air.

That’s twice in one day Eddie had been awfully complimentary, flirtation poorly disguised as platonic flattery.

“You tryna to tell me something, Munson?” you cough sharp over the words, holding the joint at arms reach in the hopes to lessen the sting. Your eyes brim sparkly at the corners, and Eddie's jaw is tight where he's biting the inside of his cheeks to smother a laugh.

He sits up with you, shuffling that little bit closer on his palms. At this proximity you can smell his cheap cologne - cedar and sage, probably a birthday present at some point, and the weed residue that sticks like gum to a shoe on his signature denim jacket.

"I have no idea what you mean," the lick of a smirk teases the corner of his lips. He reaches for you, more so the near burnt out roll-up still glowing golden between your fingers, wandering eyes gliding over your taut expression.

It was silent then. Nothing awkward or tense, both accustomed very comfortably to the ability to sit together in peace. The cicadas are louder now you notice, shifting to sit upwards so you can wrap your arms around just below the curve of your knees.

Eddie flicks the spent joint onto the dirt beneath you once the cherry red end burns an inch or so from his pursed lips, hissing as he inhales to let the drug weigh heavy in his lungs.

"Tastes like shit," he chuckles as he puffs out, spluttering slightly over the bitter aftertaste that always settles close to the filter. Eddie wasn't much for a filterless jay, he at least had a small shred of decorum.

"Smells like shit, too," you agree when he's shoulder to shoulder with you, clothed skin on skin but he was still pleasantly warm. Eddie smiles, nodding, hand to his chest as he clears his throat over a laugh.

You watch him fondly, eyes round and longing. Eddie had always been flirtatious, exclusively teasing with no weight behind it. But now? he was laying it on thick.

You felt that there had always been something there, stewing and bubbling; overly protective when it came to whatever douchebag (his words, not yours) you decided to entertain next, religiously making ‘did you get home safe?’ phonecalls after your hangouts, and you being the first person to hear every snippet of a new song he had on the go.

You pushed it down, it was easier not to read too far in to it.

“You want another?” Eddie offers, nudging his shoulder with yours before jumping off the trunk with much more grace than you were prepared to give him credit for.

Your nose scrunches, “You do?”.

He shrugs, jaw tucked into the slip of his collarbone and bottom lip pursed.

“You can just say no, sweetheart” he turns to you then, and you lift your arms away from your knees on instinct. You’re at a perfect level now where Eddie can step forward to brace his forearms to your shins, narrowing his eyes and swaying himself forward, a languid motion that nudges you back.

“Well no then. Seems like you’ve had enough for the both of us,” your eyes crease back at him, and you notice then the small sting of rawness that comes with your high. The leather of his jacket is a welcome warmth to the bare skin of your legs, the frayed edged denim shorts he had picked out for you stopping mid-thigh and not providing as much purchase as you wished for at this time of night, the cool air almost biting.

“Pft,” Eddie rattles his lips, your gaze floating there and fixing, “I’m stone cold sober, babe”.

You snort, and that only has Eddie’s grin stretching into pretty little dimples that make him appear more boyish and soft.

“You don’t think I am?” his palms are on either side of your hips, fingers spread and daring, thumbs tickled by the jagged strands of denim.

You lean forward into his space, shaking your head with a downturn of your brows, inspecting him. The soft graze of your fingers along his hairline push his hair back from his face, Eddie’s shining eyes following yours that are taking him in in drawn out contemplation.

Your touch settles right over his ears, nails tucked into the soft roots of fuzzy hair at the scalp, palms partially encompassing the shell of them so everything sounds underwater, but he doesn’t mind.

He’s observing you just the same; tracing the dip and curve of your cupids bow, up and over each full apple of your cheeks, admiring the ripple of skin between your eyebrows from the way you’re peering at him, noting the fiery cherry clouding of your scleras, trailing back down to do it all over again.

“You’re hot,” he whispers, not that he needed to though it was more accidental, the words escaping him without meaning to.

“And you’re high”

“Correct” he muses, a closed mouth low chuckle that bobs over his adam’s apple. He looks endearingly goofy; rosy cheeks and hazy eyes, with a handsome cheesy grin to top it all off.

Eddie sways lightly in the space between your legs and you can feel your heart thumping angrily in your throat. You don’t think you had ever been this close to him, not like this.

Your face screws up, smiling, lifting one palm away from his ear to touch the back of your hand to his forehead.

“You look like you’re about to kiss me, Munson”

“Would you be mad if I did?” his hands pause next to you, studying your expression, thumbs tucked a few centimetres beneath the cuff of your shorts.

The drugs were making you both bold, and maybe it was just because you had missed one another so much, but there was really no other way to quite show the extent of it.

“No,” your voice is meek, trembly soft and the static in your head of your high mixed with the adrenaline flooding your veins is making you feel like you're on the brink of passing out.

Your lips are millimetres apart, tips of your noses graze one another and Eddie's breath is washing in heated deep roves over your beetroot cheeks. You brace your hands on his neck, right at the base where the curve of it meets his shoulders, rolling your fingertips carefully into the skin there.

It’s soft at first, courteous. Plush lips and innocence.

You were the first to push back that tiny bit harder, stroking over his neck with fresh intent, actually kissing him rather than the pleasant gentle press of your mouths.

Eddie reacts immediately, being the first to pull away if only for a second to part his lips, deepening the kiss. He hooks his fingers beneath your full calves, sandwiched between them and the cool metal of your car.

“This okay?” he murmurs against your lips.

You're nodding, laughing so pretty and girlish when his grasp tightens around the backs of your knees, gasping into his open mouth when he drags you a little meanly closer to the edge of the trunk.

"There you are," he hums, wandering hands dragging up and along the full hills of your hips, dipping into the curve of your waist and stilling there.

One palm presses to the side of his face, cool despite the way he’s heating up from touching you like the way he’s always thought about when alone.

You pull him closer and he obliges far too easily, smushing yourself against each other chest to chest. Eddie holds you so tight and he’s fucking giggling against your lips.

It became rather heavy in a hurry, tongue and teeth, beckoning him closer and welcoming every little squeeze and soft caress as he just drank you in. You craved it, and only really from him.

“Jesus, sweetheart” Eddie groans, smirking when you chase his lips, stare heavy and longing albeit sluggish and glazed, completely gone in the whirlpool of your high and his wonderfully suffocating presence.

“I need to feel you” you admit, voice quiet yet confident, not really hiding the fact that you had thought about this since the violent strike of puberty hit you both. When Eddie let his hair grow out and he grew that little bit taller, strong manly hands and lean torso.

You had run it over in your head in the safety blanket of darkness in your bedroom, hand between your legs and the image of him touching you, loving on you, pleasuring you.

“We- we don’t have to do that” Eddie says, squeezing your hips, eyes startling when your expression drops, “I mean I want to, shit, of course I want to,” he’s finding your gaze, chest hurting when he noticed the wobble of them under the slick sheen of threatening tears.

“We’re pretty fucked up and I don’t want you to regret anything when our heads are clearer”.

You gulp, eyes trailing back to the pink sheen of his lips that are sickeningly wet with you.

“I want to, I could never regret doing anything with you.”

“Fuck, okay, fuck it let’s do it.” Eddie rushes before either of you could change your minds, lost in the addicting rush and excitement of it all.

His lips are on you again, near frantic and passionate, silken tongues twirling together and he’s practically lifting you off the trunk and onto his waist, wrapping yourself around him not daring to let go.

It didn’t take long for you to end up in the back of your car after dragging Eddie across the grass and dirt with his collar bunched up in your fist, the other tucked into the hair at the nape of his neck. He almost tripped you as he followed, jacket shrugged off and forgotten, a dog on a leash, chaste kisses pressing to your forehead, cheekbones and each stretched corner of your lips.

There wasn’t much time for pleasantries, not by the way the two of you are panting and groaning pathetically into each other’s open slick mouths.

You had kicked your shorts off before climbing into Eddie’s lap, slowed by your sneakers and he’d chuckled watching you with soft, glittering chocolate eyes as you hopped on one leg, patting the tops of his thighs when you glared up at him.

“Can I?” his lashes fluttered, head dipping lower towards the juncture of your neck, waiting with puppy dog lovesick eyes. Who were you to deny him when he was looking at you like that?

“Please” you whimpered at him, grabbing at the back of his head and drawing him closer, desperate to feel his pillowy lips right over the sensitive skin of your throat.

Eddie moans, really moans as you tug on his roots, squirming in his lap when his hot mouth sucks and licks on you, blooming crimson reds and lilac blues. He has to flatten his palms at the plump of your hips, pressing there cruelly to keep you still since you’re rocking yourself so good against where he’s hardening beneath you.

“You need to stop doing that” Eddie almost seethes through his teeth, a warning though you know he doesn’t mean it to be harsh, heat rushing to your centre from the way his tone drops low and fierce. “Or else i’ll cum in the fucking jeans”.

It was all pent up energy, pitiful pining and taking advantage of the heat of the moment. You were wet and wanting beneath the cotton of your underwear, aware of the sticky sensation that felt foreign against the material when you ground your centre down onto the zip of his jeans.

“Just… just fuck me already,” you almost cringe at how dirty you sounded, far too desperate and you’ll certainly be embarrassed thinking back on it when all things are said and done.

“Holy shit. Yeah, yeah. I’m coming, baby” Eddie shoves a little at the crease of your thighs, his thumbs digging there to sit you back at his knees. The clinking of his belt and fidgeting hands tugging at his zipper has your heart pounding beneath your ribs, breathless gasps escaping you when he tugs himself free.

“C’mere” he beckons you forwards with two fingers, sealing his mouth back on yours with heightened fervour and frantic wanting as he spreads his thighs across the back seat, slouching down to allow a better angle.

Your soaked clothed centre brushes along his shaft when you move, clammy hands cradling his sharp jawline and swallowing down Eddie’s pants and huffed profanities.

His palms wander as you lick in each others mouths, the surrounding soft skin catching twinkly under the moonlight. Eddie kneads into your ass, rough, calloused fingers crude and playful, spreading your cheeks apart to push them back together again.

“Having fun?” you leave merely an inch between you, breath smoky and the smell of bitter weed sticks to his hair that closes around your faces, almost blanketing you from whatever may be lurking on the outside of your cramped car.

“So much fun,” and there was that grin again, painfully wide and you want to kiss each smile line that adores his pretty face.

“Touch me here. Please” your fingers twirl into his, guiding his knuckles up under your hoodie to finally meld to the balmy plump rolls covering your ribs. Eddie’s eyes are saucered, wide and disbelieving, mouth dropped and hanging slack.

He scans the naked buttery soft skin under his touch that is now available to him with your oversized hoodie out of the way, gliding over you with intense abundant delight. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, your palms falling over his when he reaches the soft lace of your bra, nails catching on the hard underwire.

His large hands close around your breasts, cupping and squeezing them just hard enough to have pretty noises catching at the back of your throat but kind enough so it doesn’t hurt. Not too much.

“C’mon, Eds, please” you’re on the cusp of begging, stroking yourself over his cock that’s barely slippery with your arousal through cotton. A rather aggressive moan escapes from the depths of his lungs, clumsy when he takes hold of himself at the base.

You lift yourself up, knees planted wide on either side of him, legs shaking when he’s thumbing at the elastic lining of your underwear to pull it to the side.

If you were both clear of mind, you would rather your first time together be methodical and careful, more paced and tenderly slow. Eddie wanted to shower you with unhurried devotion, not leaving a single inch of your plump skin unscathed. Yearning to leave you kiss bitten and bruised in all of the nice ways.

The first slip of his tip as he enters has you mewling already, lowering yourself down inch by downright devilish inch. You reach for his collar again, his shirt wound tight in your fist and you're prying him into you. Eddie's face smushes into your neck, blissful hot breath fanning over your skin.

You pause when he's fully seated inside you, wisps of his hair tickling your nose as you bury yourself into the crown of his head. You cushion him to your breast bone, desperate for every shred of contact, adjusting to his girth that stretches you out so nicely.

The inside of the car is blazing. Windows dripping and steaming, droplets gliding down the cool glass and disappearing into the well at the base.

It was kinder then, your next actions. Your heart is skipping, the couple inches that Eddie drags himself out to push right back in, knocking some syrupy sweet sounds out of you that he wishes he could keep on tape.

Eddie licks his lips, whining into you, tongue laving over your salty skin with so much rampant fidelity, you never wanted him to stop.

You barely bounce, you didn't need to. Eddie merely has to see-saw his hips into the seat so he grinds up into your heat, groaning and mouthing incoherent sentences mixed with mewls of your name when his cock nudges spots you didn't know could be reached.

Eddie wraps both hands around your back, dipping beneath your pullover and hugging every curve he could grab on to. The initial intensity of it all had slowed into a deliberately slow pace, intimate and sloven.

His gasps tickle the column of your throat, bridge of his nose stuck under your jawline. Not much needed to be said, to be honest it was difficult to form any words when you were both so far gone in the ecstasy of it all, pleasure only amplified by your drug-induced state.

"Eddie" you plead, eyes closed and panting open-mouthed into his hair. He could tell by the clamp of your walls around him that you were close, probing into that sweet spot that blinds you, and it was a good job too since he could feel his own release approaching.

"I've got you, my girl" He releases himself from your grip, your chest tightening at the loss of him, but only for a moment. Eddie's eyes widen when you moan his name, an awe-filled smile shining up at you as his thumb circles over your clit.

Your stomach aches, a coiling wounding tight and pooling right at the pit of it, the promise of an orgasm looming and steadfast. He lays his head back against the headrest, lips swollen and tantalisingly rouge from where he had maimed you.

"Such a pretty girl" he coos and you're right there, his candied goading and sugary praise coaxing your release.

Eddie's eyebrows pinch, rubbing his thumb that little bit quicker, driving his hips up up and up right so he completely disappears inside of you to the hilt over and over again.

"I'm so close, so so fucking close" your whimpers hike, jaw hinging wide and eyes brimming watery under the sheer pressure of it all.

"Come on, baby. Cum with me" he works you right to the edge, dragging his cock in and out just right, and you didn't need any further instruction, eyes locking together as you both come undone.

Eddie ruts sloppily into your sweet wet cunt, gushing into every millimetre of you he could reach, his release dribbling out and onto his navel. Your breath hitches, and Eddie appears like he's in pain with the way you're pulsing around him, milking him of everything he has to give.

You're dizzy with him, putty and pliant over him, chasing that feeling with a slow roll of your hips when Eddie is pressed to you again. He kisses your neck, loving over where you're bruised, travelling up to that sensitive spot right behind your ear.

He makes his way gradually to your lips, caught in one long drawn out kiss as you both breathe in heavy through the nose. There's a quiet lull when you part, your buzzing brains catching up with the events of the evening, paused in each other's embrace.

You're laughing then, guiltless and elated.

Eddie talks first, weaving his hands behind your ears and tucking your hair back, pressing his sweating forehead to yours that's damp and beaded just the same.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah"

[roanofarcc]

YOU, BRIGHT BLUE

pairing. tyler owens x reader

summary. between the moments of chaos of storm chasing, tyler finds the break in the storm when with you. 

warnings. shy/introverted reader, fluff!

word count. 1k || masterlist

To cap off the end of tornado season, it was a tradition for someone from the wranglers to throw a little celebration. It was Tyler’s turn and he had, lovingly, suckered you into helping him with the promise of picking up your favorite dessert for after the dinner. 

It was the first party with the newest additions of Kate and Javi to Tyler’s team, and they were warmly welcomed with light teasing that Boone insisted was mandatory hazing. Everyone ate until their stomachs were beyond stuffed, but no one wanted the night to end after that. 

You had suggested a bonfire. Tyler had been excited about the new fire pit he had built in his backyard, and the only people who had enjoyed it so far were the two of you. You often rounded off your date nights back at his place, making s’mores and talking until you couldn’t keep your eyes open. 

Even with the addition of Tyler’s team, you two still found yourself in your usual spot around the fire, seated on a blanket in the grass. You sat with your legs outstretched and Tyler rested his head in your lap. As the team laughed and reminisced on their favorite stories from the season, you absentmindedly ran your fingers through Tyler’s hair. He chimed in now and then, but when he wasn’t talking, his attention was on you. 

His bright eyes studied you in the firelight like always, but no matter how many times he looked at you, he found something else he loved. Every shy smile you gave Kate when she complimented your cooking or light laugh you gave to Boone’s terrible jokes. Despite your quietness, he could tell how much you enjoyed the company of his friends, which he was relieved to see. Tyler had gotten good at reading the little tells in your face since you weren’t much of a talker.

Just by the crinkle of your eye or twitch of your lip, he knew almost exactly what you were feeling. And at the fire with his team, you looked happy, which was exactly what he was hoping for. You hadn’t been around for more than a couple dinners and hang-outs with the team, and he knew they could be a tad overwhelming from time to time just because of their ever-bounding excitement. But knowing that you enjoyed their company as much as he did felt like a weight off of his chest. 

Dating you was a different experience for Tyler. He used to think he needed someone who matched his energy or exceeded it; someone boisterous who didn’t know how to slow down. But he had learned rather quickly that was like burning the candle at both ends. Meeting you showed him the beauty in slowing down. He spent his days chasing after roaring storms, wrapped in the heat of adrenaline and pounding hearts. And don’t get him wrong, that was what he loved about storm chasing, but he needed something different when it came to relationships. 

You didn’t come barreling into his life at top speeds, crashing into him. You floated in like a gentle spring breeze, soft and calm. In his breaks between storm-chasing, you were his breath of fresh air. It was your slow pace of life that made him fall, hard. But instead of running blindly into relationships, as he had a habit of doing, he played the long game until you became so integral to his life that he knew he had to make a move. And lucky for him, you had fallen just as hard. 

It was early into the wee hours of the morning before the team finally departed, giving each other tired goodbyes before they’d spend some time apart, going on much-deserved vacations and returning to their ‘normal’ jobs until it was time to chase again. 

While Tyler walked his friends out, you started to clean up a little, yawning as you did so. You were so tired, half-heartedly washing the dishes, when he came back inside and appeared behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close before resting his chin on your shoulder. Soft kisses peppered the side of your face and neck, causing you to smile. 

“Come on, these can wait ‘till morning,” Tyler whispered, sleepily. 

“Let me just finish these,” you said, but he didn’t let go. His chest was flushed against your back, warming you up more than the fire outside had. He was quiet as you washed the last plate; you placed it on the drying wrack just before he tugged you backward, away from the sink to stop you from cleaning up anymore. 

He loosened his grip just enough for you to turn around to face him, resting your arms lazily around his neck. “Thanks for helping me with tonight,” Tyler said, his voice barely above a whisper like he didn’t want to disturb the quietness of his home in the late hours. 

“Of course,” you replied, peering at him with the very expression that made him fall in love with you. 

There was a beauty to tornados, one that was difficult to appreciate unless you understood them the way he did. The black and green skies, the rotating clouds that dropped down, and the deep grooves they left behind in the ground all held a certain beauty, but it was very different than how he’d describe you. You were bright blue skies and sunsets that resembled paintings. To him, you were the calm before the storm; the stillness that blocked out any rational sense that something dark was looming in the distance. 

He brushed a thumb across your cheek and kept his hand holding the side of your face. You yawned again before you kissed him quickly, too quickly if you ask him. “Ready for bed?” you asked, your eyes nearly drooping with your words. Tyler answered with a nod, leading you back into his bedroom where you had claimed your side of the bed. His pillows smelled like your shampoo, and he never slept well without having you in arm's reach. But that night he didn’t have to worry about it because he fell asleep with your head on his chest. Instead of staying awake in search of answers in the dark skies, he dreamt beside you of bright blue scenery.

[milkloafy]

I COULD BE YOUR CRUSH — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you gush about your crush to neuvillette over some tea, and your crush unexpectedly joins the tea party and overhears you talking about him. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, fem!reader (use of princess as a petname), sassy neuvi, mentions of ayato ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.2k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: alexa play crush by tessa violet,, LOL i was thinking so hard about the song title then i was like okay yeah these lyrics work ;-; titles are so hard.. anywayyy PLS ENJOY SOME WRIO FLUFF FOR THE SOUL !!

“You just don’t understand, Neuvillette,” you sighed dramatically, stabbing your fork into the delicate cake in front of you. “He’s totally swoon-worthy.”

Neuvillette took a sip of his tea before carefully placing the cup back on its saucer. For a while, he continued to stay silent, as if considering his words.

Once he finally opened his mouth, the only question that came out was a calm, “How so?”

It didn’t take long for a million reasons to pop into your head.

“Well…have you seen his arms?” you gushed. “Is that not enough of a reason in itself?”

Neuvillette scoffed, a smile of amusement playing on his lips.

“That’s not all, of course,” you clarified, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa next to you and hugging it close to your chest. “He’s also caring and kind and treats everyone with respect, no matter who they are.” 

Neuvillette’s gaze flickered briefly to the door behind you, but you paid it no mind.

“Not to mention how he looks when he gets all serious. Neuvillette, have you ever seen him talk about a prisoner he had to punish? It’s so…” You hid your face behind the pillow, cheeks flaming at the thought.

Before you had a chance to collect yourself, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You immediately stilled in your seat, slowly bringing the pillow back down to your lap.

“Sorry I’m late. Who are we talking about?”

Neuvillette smiled, ignoring your frantic look directed right at him. “Wriothesley, welcome. You are not too late. Please, take a seat.”

Wriothesley slipped onto the sofa, taking a seat next to you. Neuvillette poured him a cup of tea that he graciously accepted. Looking over at you, Wriothesley brought the drink up to his face and asked, “Care to tell me who you were speaking of before I arrived? It sounded like you were singing their praises.”

You fiddled with the the hem of your silk pajamas— Neuvillette failed to inform you beforehand that a certain someone would be joining the tea party, so you appeared in your regular sleep clothes. You racked your brain trying to come up with a response. 

“Oh, you know… Kamisato Ayato,” you managed, vaguely remembering how you saw his name and face on the cover of The Steambird recently. “The head of the Kamisato clan is such a…dashing and strong leader. I think.” 

“I didn’t realize you were close to Kamisato,” commented Wriothesley, sitting with one leg loosely draped over the other as he leaned back against the sofa.

“Oh,” you shook your head, “no. No, I’ve never even met him.”

Wriothesley raised a singular eyebrow in question. “Your words earlier seemed so strong for something directed at a man you have never met.” 

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even though your heart threatened to beat our of your chest. “You know how enamored a crush can make someone.” 

“I do,” Wriothesley agreed, his gaze locked onto yours so intensely that you almost had to blink.

“I’m sure you do,” remarked Neuvillette, still sipping his tea.

You and Wriothesley both looked over at him.

Neuvillette blinked. “Did you forget I was here? This is my office, is it not?” When no one responded, he sighed. “Well, I finished the last of my tea and I have some work to wrap up. Feel free to stay as long as you need.”

Neuvillette made his way back to his desk and Wriothesley refocused his attention towards you. 

“So. Kamisato Ayato,” he brought the clan leader up once more.

You choked out a laugh of exasperation. “Are we still on this? Just let me have my silly little crush on someone across the world who doesn’t even know I exist.”

Tapping his fingers against the teacup, Wriothesley huffed. You realized he looked almost annoyed and frustrated.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, Wriothesley opened his mouth and said, “Would it be overbearing of me to say I wish you had said a different name when I asked who you were gushing over?”

A strange mixture of curiosity and hope filled your chest.

Curiosity as to who he thought you were talking about. Hope that maybe he thought it might’ve been him. 

“You could never be overbearing,” you assured, grabbing a small biscuit from the table and softening it up in your warm tea. “Would it be nosy of me to ask who you wished I was gushing over?”

Wriothesley grinned. “You are certainly nosy. But it’s one of the things I like about you.”

You laughed, wiping a crumb off your lip with a napkin. “Does that mean you won’t tell me?”

“Perhaps another day.”

In the distance, you heard Neuvillette clear his throat loudly. You looked over and saw him glaring straight at Wriothesley. They stayed like that for a while, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Whatever it was, it seemed intense. You were quite glad that glare wasn’t directed at you.

“I believe Wriothesley would like to share that information with you now,” Neuvillette announced after Wriothesley looked away with a sigh.

“Does he?”

“I do,” Wriothesley confirmed, the slightest bit begrudgingly. “Me.”

You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t elaborate. 

You blinked. “What about you?” 

“Are you going to make me say it?” Wriothesley let out a strangled laugh, grabbing a biscuit to munch on himself. “When I overheard you and Neuvillette talking about your crush, I was hoping it was about me.”

You blinked. “Why about you?” 

Neuvillette made a strange noise as a book fell off his desk. He cleared his throat. “Pardon me.”

You barely had time to wonder if he was okay before Wriothesley finally responded.

“You really don’t make things easy for me, isn’t that right, princess?” Wriothesley said with a helpless smile. “I hoped you were saying such sweet things about me, since I would say equally sweet things about you.”

With your stomach turning at both the pet name and his admission, you managed to say, “And if I were to tell you it really was about you?”

“That would make me a very happy man,” he said, unable to contain his delight. “Who wouldn’t be happy to hear the most beautiful and caring person they know is interested in them as well?”

You heard Neuvillette tap his foot impatiently in the background, but you ignored him. You and Wriothesley were having a moment here. 

“So, you’re saying you like me, too?” you asked, not wanting there to be any chance of a misunderstanding. The two of you made it this far, you couldn’t let it fall apart now.

“I like you very much,” said Wriothesley with a nod. “And I have something to take care of at the Fortress this week, but when we both have time next week, perhaps we can celebrate with a dinner. Without Neuvillette there.”

“Please, without me there,” Neuvillette chimed in, his arms folded as he sat in his chair.

You laughed, standing up and brushing the imaginary dust off your pajamas. “All right, I can take a hint, Neuvillette. I’ll help you clean up before I go. And Wriothesley…” 

“Hmm?”

You met his gaze and the corners of his eyes crinkled. You fought off a giggle as you returned Wriothesley’s smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness filling you. “It’s a date.”