#Logan Delos x fem!reader

[marvelmusing]

All I can think about right now is like any Ben Barnes character during their rut as an Alpha. Like omg would I want to be their mate.

This wasn’t a request but you said any character, and my mind went to all the characters so I ended up writing a little something for most of them. Enjoy?

Characters: Alpha!Aleksander Morozova, Alpha!Logan Delos, Alpha!Billy Russo, Alpha!Benjamin Greene (all x fem!omega!reader)

Warnings [18+]: typical a/b/o themes, smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, smidge of primal play for Billy, dirty talk, bit of degradation from Aleksander, hint of spanking for Logan.

-

Aleksander Morozova

-

“You should rest.”

It doesn’t surprise you that your words fall on deaf ears as Aleksander rifles through the papers on his desk, stalking into his bedroom to search for a particular document.

The meeting concluded several minutes ago but the palpable tension has yet to be cleared from the air. Aleksander is ignoring his rut, a terrible habit of his, which subjects everyone around him to the tantalising smell of his frustration and arousal.

Almost all the omegas in the meeting ended up excusing themselves, their heats triggered by Aleksander’s scent. It’s taking everything in you not to submit to him yourself.

His shirt sleeves are rolled up, the veins in his forearms bulging, and his hair is loose and ruffled. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face and the urge to lick it seizes you. Clenching your jaw shut, you cross your arms as you stand in the doorway watching him.

“General.”

He doesn’t look up at you, but the tension in his shoulders seems to tighten.

“What happened to docile little omegas?” he remarks bitingly. Keeping your voice coy and soft, you cock your head aside, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Would you like me to be docile, sir?”

Turning his head, Aleksander locks eyes with you, his gaze flickering down to the curve of your neck where his mating mark is on display against your pulse. He growls lowly, striding towards you and grasping onto your waist.

He spins you, pushing you down onto the bed with his teeth bared. A hand closes around your throat, pining you to the mattress as he leans over you.

“You little minx.”

Mischief sparkles in your eyes and Aleksander huffs out a small laugh. Then, much to your disappointment, he releases you. Instantly, you place your hand over his, guiding it back to your throat.

“You don’t need to hide this from me, Aleksander. I can take it, I promise.”

There’s hesitation in his eyes. As your mate, he is always so attentive during your heat, but when it comes to his rut he ignores his own urges to stop himself from hurting you.

Hooking your leg around his waist, you stroke your calf down the side of his body.

“Please, alpha. I’m here for you. Use me.”

His gaze darkens, the blackness filling his eyes is your only warning before you’re flipped over onto your stomach. The ripping sting of fabric brushes against your skin as he tears the clothing from your body.

Scrambling, you prop yourself onto your knees for him. Then he pushes himself inside you. Being around him all day has ensured that you’re wet enough to take him so suddenly but there’s still a twinge of pain that simmers delightfully under your skin.

Aleksander groans loudly in relief, his breathing sharp against your back as he presses his forehead into the space between your shoulder blades.

His finger dig into your hips, nails biting into your skin, hard enough to leave bruises. Each thrust of his hips slaps hard against your cheeks, the force of his fucking reverberating through your body relentlessly.

Filthy words of appraisal and sweet degrading remarks all jumbled into an almost incoherent mess begin to stream from his lips. Every word you do manage to hear through your shared moans and gasps sends a jolt of pleasure through your abdomen.

Sweet little mate. Perfect cunt. Tight and hot and wet. Like a common whore. Can you hear it, omega? Such a good omega. So good for me. Mine. All mine. You belong to me.

Aleksander bites down on your shoulder as you clench around his cock, his tongue traces over the mark left there lapping up the hot smear of blood that is blossoming to the surface. Then he bites again. His nails scratch over your thighs, leaving raised lines in their wake.

Drool slips from your lips, soaking the sheets as you surrender completely to Aleksander’s pursuit of pleasure.

He turns your head, ducking his head down into the crook of your neck as he pushes his knot inside you. Both of you hiss at the feeling. The stretch burns through your body, driving everything except Aleksander from your mind.

All Aleksander can think of it how tightly you’re gripping his knot. Everything else, the frustration that had been under his skin since yesterday morning, the heavy tension in his muscles, the overwhelming pressure in his chest, it’s all gone.

His climax is within reach and he jerks his hips forwards frantically as he chases his pleasure. Mindlessly, his fingers rub against your clit, hurtling you towards your own peak. He growls, teeth clenched hard as he breathes in your scent.

His nose nudges against the mating mark on your throat and your scent sharpens. As soon as you hit your climax, it triggers Aleksander’s own release and the two of you groan and succumb to pleasure instantaneously.

The rhythmic clenching of your cunt sends a shiver down Aleksander’s spine, the heat of his spend inside you soothing his more primal instincts. Now that he’s sated, all he wants is your affection.

But his knot is still inside you, and will remain so for a few more minutes.

He shifts uncomfortably, attempting not hold himself up with his forearms and not crush you with his weight.

“I’ve remembered what I dislike about this position,” he says quietly, to which you hum in response. “I can’t hold you properly,” he adds with a small huff of frustration.

A soft laugh escapes your lips.

“I love you, Sasha,” you whisper with a smile.

His fingertips trace lightly over your back, featherlight when he reaches the marks already blooming over your skin and the tiny drops of dried blood.

“I’ve made quite the mess of you.”

“Good,” you say, your voice muffled by your pillow. “It’ll remind them all who I belong to.”

A deep rumble emanates from the back of his throat and he nuzzles his face against your back. His perfect little mate - you always know what to say to him.

Guilt still settles in his stomach, at the thought of hurting you, especially with the desperate need for your affection growing in his chest.

Once he pulls out of you, he’s being tugged into your arms. He settles himself against your chest as you lean back into the pillows propped next to the dark oak headboard. Aleksander tilts his head, his temple pressed against your cheek, and you kiss his face gently.

He heaves out a sigh and you can feel the last of the tension leave his body as you curl your arms around him fully. Aleksander curls his hands around each of your forearms to ensure you won’t let go of him.

Quietly, you hum an Old Ravkan tune he had taught you, occasionally licking affectionately at the mating mark on his neck or nipping playfully at the shell of his ear.

Aleksander’s eyes flutter closed and his breathing grows steady but he doesn’t fall sleep. Such a state of relaxation is rare for him.

“I love you,” he breathes out softly. “You’re everything to me.”

-

Logan Delos

-

“Welcome home, alpha.”

Logan halts at the entrance to your shared bedroom. He tilts his head back, groaning through a grin as he palms his hand over his bulge.

“God I fucking love you.”

He tugs at his belt, his cock straining against the restrictive fabric of his suit trousers as he stares down at you.

The bedcovers have been discarded onto the floor, giving the two of you optimum space to play with one another. Somehow, you must have known his rut was about to begin, because you’re already in position with your legs spread wide, glistening cunt on display.

He tosses his belt onto the floor, discarding his trousers and shrugging off his jacket and shirt. His scent, like fresh orange juice and sun lotion has your teeth aching for a bite of him.

His dark eyes lock onto your cunt as he reaches the foot of the bed, crawling over the mattress towards you. A low growl rumbles in his throat as he drinks in the sight and smell of his mate.

Logan nuzzles his face against your thigh, a whine catching in your throat as his rough facial hair scratches at your sensitive skin. He bites down, pearly white teeth creating a bruising mark there, claiming your most intimate parts as his once again.

His cock hangs heavy between his legs, aching to be inside you. Logan has never had much patience, though his love of teasing seems to be overruling his own need.

He continues to nip and bite at your thighs, mouthing sloppy kisses and tracing his tongue over his favourite spots - the ones that make you squirm the most.

Logan loves toying with you. There’s nothing better to him. He can smell your frustration and can see your need dripping down onto the sheets. Despite the effects of his rut that are slowing beginning to settle into his system, he’s tempted to continue torturing you.

Sweat glosses over your skin, you’ve thoroughly wound yourself up. Before Logan arrived, you had done your best to fantasise about your alpha to ensure that you would be wet enough to take him the moment he arrived home.

Knowing Logan, you should have known he would surprise you like this.

He kisses his way up your body, leaving bites and settling his hands firmly on your waist. His fingers press into your skin, preventing any sort of squirming. His strength always catches you off guard.

Logan’s teeth scrape delicately over your hardened nipple and you whine pitifully. Chest heaving, you whimper when he laps at your breasts with a delighted expression on his face.

His arousal begins to smear over your thighs as he nestles himself between them.

Eyes darkening, he grins wickedly before positioning his cock at your entrance and sliding inside with one smooth motion. Gritting your teeth, you moan loudly. His grin sharpens, teeth flashing as he hisses at the feeling of your cunt sucking in his cock.

He pulls out, only to slam his hips back down against yours, setting a punishing pace that has you both panting against one another’s mouths. Logan kisses you frantically, a mess of lips and teeth and tongue as you consume one another.

Nails digging into his shoulders, you scramble for some sense of balance as he removes your ability to do anything except take what he gives you. He bites down on your lip, sucking on the bruised flesh when you whimper.

In retaliation, you reach down to his backside, giving him ass cheek a squeeze to encourage him deeper inside you. His vigour increases, spurred on by your touch, and you can’t resist giving him a small swat on the ass.

His hand locks around your throat, squeezing lightly, and you grin at one another as you clench around him. He growls at the feeling, teeth flashing as he increases his pace as he fucks you.

Crying out his name, you feel the steady spiral of pleasure begin to swoop in your stomach. Frantically you jerk your hips against his, weak little thrusts in an attempt to match his own enthusiasm. Both of you grasp at one another, nails biting into flesh.

He tips his head back, baring his neck, and you sink your teeth into his throat without a second thought. He spills inside you, the hot spray of his release immediately sending your body hurtling into your own climax with a frightening speed.

He swears loudly at the feeling of your cunt twitching around his sensitive cock. Both of you moan at the sensations running through you as bliss soaks into your bodies. Logan collapses on top of you with a dramatic huff and a groan, which makes you giggle.

His smile is bright at the sound of your laughter, as he lifts his head up from the crook of your neck.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know?” he says lightly. His parents weren’t the best example of a mated couple but you’re too tired to argue properly with him. So you poke him.

“Shut up and let me be here for you,” you mumble.

He smiles widely.

-

Billy Russo

-

He’s surprised his glass hasn’t shattered in his hand. Billy takes a slow swallow of the chilled liquid, relishing the coolness on his tongue in contrast to the heat that is burning underneath his loose swim shorts.

The summer heat certainly isn’t helping the feeling of his oncoming rut, and neither is the sight of you in that ridiculously tiny bikini.

He watches from his place at the bar as you lounge on one of the sun-beds by the pool. One leg lying along the length of the lounger whilst the other is folded with your ankle tucked beneath the knee of your extended leg.

Billy knows the bite marks on your thighs are visible to everyone, his claim on you made obvious for anyone who looks at you. He watches as you drape your arm over your forehead to shield your face from the sun.

He can see your eyes are closed, you must be dozing lightly. Downing the rest of his drink, he tosses a wad of notes onto the bar top before he stalks towards you.

“Billy?” you mumble, your words thick with near sleep as you register a shadow over you.

As you inhale his scent, sticky vanilla like melted ice cream, a thrum of arousal runs through you in response.

Lifting your head, you meet his darkened eyes immediately as he towers over you.

“Alpha?”

A growl rumbles in his chest.

“We’re leaving,” he demands.

If there weren’t so many people around, you might have given him some resistance, and he would throw you over his shoulder. The two of you like to playing into your more primal instincts during Billy’s rut.

He grips the steering wheel hard through the entire drive home. The windows are rolled down fully so that he can concentrate on the road without the combination of your scents distracting him.

When you finally reach the small villa Billy had rented for the summer, he breathes a sigh of relief. He leans over the console of the car, grasping the back of your head to meet his lips in an all-consuming kiss.

By the time he withdraws from you, your chest is heaving, your lips swollen and slick with his saliva.

Some of the tension leaves Billy’s shoulders as you step inside the air-conditioned villa. Cool marble floor against his bare feet as he slips his shoes off.

He slips his arm around your waist, pulling your back flush against his body. He rolls his hips forward, his rock hard cock pressing against your practically bare ass cheeks. He nips at the mating mark on your neck and you whine.

“I’m gonna go make a drink,” he murmurs lowly against your ear. His mouth is hot against the sensitive skin of your throat and his scent is addictive. “You are gonna go hide for me.”

A delighted shiver rolls down your spine. You love it when Billy is playful like this. Hiding always spikes your arousal, waiting in anticipation for your Alpha to find you.

It’s even better when he’s close to is rut, because he smells so delicious and his words are always so tempting when he tries to convince you to come out of hiding.

Once he does find you, it’s likely he’ll let you slip through his fingers to initiate a little chase around the villa. Billy will know the floor plan by heart, after all he bought this place, and will follow your scent like the predator he is.

“Yes, alpha,” you whisper.

Tugging at the strings of your bikini, you allow the fabric to slip down onto the floor as you take a few meandering steps away from your alpha. He groans at the sight of you, breathing in a deep inhale as he seeks to control himself.

With a teasing glimmer in your eyes, you walk slowly, waiting until he’s out of sight before you begin to move quickly. If you ran off immediately, Billy would have been too tempted to chase. Spoiling your fun before it can even begin.

Now all you need to do is hide.

-

Benjamin Greene

-

“Benji?” you mumble, blinking tiredly as you wake.

His mouth moves leisurely over your neck, nosing at the mating mark just under your ear. His tongue traces over the mark, which sends a shiver down your spine.

“Sorry, love. Just need your sweet little cunt for a few minutes. That alright with you?”

The air is thick with his comforting scent, shortbread biscuits and old book pages, curling around you like a blanket. His cock is hard against your stomach and you can already guess that his rut has arrived early.

Humming contentedly, you nod in consent, your eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Just relax, my omega.”

He sucks lightly on your earlobe and a soft moan catches in your throat, even as your awareness begins to drift a little. Benjamin’s low groan as he breathes in your scent brings you back to reality a little, making you aware of the need threading through your body.

“It’s alright, love,” he soothes, though there’s a strained quality to his voice as the sheets rustle. The heat of the summer has meant you’ve both forgone clothing tonight. “Just going to fill you up for a while.”

He continues to mouth sleepily at your neck, paying extra attention to the mating mark almost subconsciously. Hooking one of your legs over his hip, he sinks his cock into you. Eyes fluttering closed, you moan quietly as he rocks his hips subtly to adjust his position.

“Benji,” you whisper. He hushes you.

“Go back to sleep, love. This is all I need for now.”

Benjamin is rock hard inside you when you wake at sunrise.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you breathe in the heavy scent of your alpha in the midst of his rut. There’s a small frown creasing at his dark brows, no doubt a result of his aching cock and the urge to help ease his discomfort fills your chest.

His skin is flushed, a pretty pink dusting over his cheeks and the tips of his ears. A bead of sweat rolls down his neck, which you immediately collect with your tongue. He hums quietly in his sleep, hips shifting upwards. His dark hair is ruffled adorably and there’s a small pout on his lips.

Slowly, you roll your hips forward against his. The spark of friction you gain is enough of an incentive for you to continue, even though Benji’s pleasure is what you’re really searching for.

Benjamin stirs a little when you turn him over onto his back and he begins to wake as you straddle his hips, sliding up and down leisurely over his cock, your hands splayed over his chest. He groans deeply as his lashes flutter open, revealing his dark eyes filled with unbridled need.

He presses his head back into the pillows, showing off the expanse of his throat as he sighs in pleasure.

“Alpha,” you whisper against his neck, licking at the mating mark there. “Let me take care of you, please?”

His hands settle on your thighs, warm palms squeezing the soft skin there gently in encouragement. He murmurs praises quietly under his breath as you roll your hips against his taking him deeper.

Sweat glosses over his bare chest and you lick a pathway down his collarbones and across his pectorals, hands smoothing affectionately over his soft stomach where his muscles are tensing rapidly.

His hips jerk forward mindlessly and with gritted teeth you nestle your body firmly against his, easing his knot into your slick entrance. He gasps sharply, eyes rolling back as your cunt clenches around his knot and hardened cock.

“Relax, Benji,” you soothe him. “I’ve got you. Please, alpha. Want you to fill me up.”

Sleeping inside you for most of the night has made him sensitive to your touch, not to mention how much energy his rut always takes out of him. Slick smears over your thighs, making a thorough mess of the two of you.

Grinding against one another, Benjamin places his palm on the small of your back, meeting each of your thrusts with a lazy one of his own. Panting and moaning into one another’s mouths, you kiss with a burning intensity that has you clenching uncontrollably around him.

He chokes on a groan, pressing himself hard against you as tears prickle in your eyes. His pubic bone catches against your clit, providing a dizzying burst of pleasure that thrums beneath your skin and you begin to chant his name in a low whisper.

“Benji, my alpha, please.”

He bites down lightly on your lower lip, tugging on the sensitive skin as you tip over the edge. Bliss floods through your body as you climax, and soon he’s spilling inside you with a low moan.

Collapsing onto his chest, you hum at the pleasurable feeling of being filled to the brim by your alpha. He strokes his hands over your back, easing the aching muscles there as you both catch your breath.

“Thank you, omega. You were perfect, my love.”

Contentment warms in your chest at the thought of pleasing your alpha. His rut is by no means over, but this was certainly a pleasant start.

-

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @veescorneroftheworld

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell @chickensarentcheap @stardustmorozov @witchcraftandwit @ladyofsoa

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

[spider-bren]

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN

Nsfw/Sfw

ship pairings:

- aziracrow (aziraphale x crowley)

- gentlebeard (stede x ed)

- frankbilly (frank x billy)

- hannigram (hannibal x will)

- Sheen/Tennant character pairings (provided I have seen the films/series)

- darklina (The Darkling x Alina)

- wesper (wylan x jesper)

- reylo (rey x kylo)

- daemyra (daemon x rhaenyra)

- daeton (daemon x criston)

- vlaber (klaber x voller)

- dreamling (dream x hob)

- HOBRINTHIAN (Hob x The Corinthian) (I beg you to request this)

- Hanninthian (Hannibal x The Corinthian)

- Rukenna (Billy Russo x Quinn Mckenna) (my own rare pair)

X reader

Fem/Masc/NB

- Frank Castle

- Boyd Holbrook characters (I've seen his filmography so I know all of them)

- Ben Barnes characters (Bonus points if it's the Big Three: Logan Delos, or Billy Russo, or The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova

- Peter Parker (any and all spidermen welcome)

Pretty much ask about x reader and I will see if I will be able to do it :)

DO'S/DON'T'S

- do please reblog my work once I have answered your ask it's the least you can do

- don't expect fast answering since idk when inspiration will hit or if I will have enough time

- do be kind :)

- don't expect me to write rape/graphic violence

- i do write dubcon to an extent

- i do accept most kinks (knife/gun play etc - ask and I shall see)

NO HATE OF ANY KIND WILL BE TOLERATED // TRANS/NB READERS ENCOURAGED

[quellmythirst]

Riding Lessons.

A/N: Today I woke up and chose violence. The day drinking is also not helping. Thank you @chatnain for being so lovely, I hope I managed to make your horny problem worse <3

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Logan Delos

Words: 1.2k

Summary: He gives you a spicy riding lesson???

Warnings: SMUT!!!! I don't know shit about horses. MINORS DNI

“Well you kids have fun,” your friend called as she walked down the side of the hill, “Will's and I are gunna go look for Dolores. Well, he is. I'm looking for Clementine,” she waved, skipping away as the wind kicked up her skirt. It was your second time visiting Westworld together and it would be a lie to say you hadn’t planned it around when you knew Logan would be here.

The wind blew through your long hair, a large shadow crept across your face. Your eyes glancing up from behind your glasses, you flicked your hair from your eyes so you could better see the man standing in front of you. You knew who he was the moment you set eyes on him, you had been lusting after from him for years. It was only here in this place that he really saw you. And here he was dressed only in his ass less chaps, the leather clinging to his firm legs while the rest of him hung free. You could hardly believe this man was about to give you a riding lesson. You were shivering with anticipation, already dripping down your thighs while you waited for him.

"Should we get started then?" you say, your melodic voice drifting in the wind.

"Is that? Your accent is lovely," he purrs, his hand skimming along the soft skin of your arm. Goosebumps rising along your body with each caress. You stared into his dark eyes, trying very hard not to look down.

"Thank you," you say, leaning back into the horse.

“First thing you wanna do is get on,” he instructed you, his hand curving quite low on your waist to hold you steady. While the other took hold of your foot, hoisting you over the large black beast. You peer down at him, the wind rushing against your nearly bare pussy, only concealed by the heavy skirts you were wearing. Anticipation builds in your stomach when you see his eyes linger on your shapely legs. “Here, take hold of the reins,” he instructs you and you do as he says. You hear him click his tongue and worry that you’ve done something wrong, “No not like that,” he chastises, his hand grazing up your leg. He takes hold of the horn, his hand dangerously close to your pussy, “Here let me show you,” His hand tightening and your body moving forward to brush against his hand, his leg kicking over behind you. You feel his warm, bare chest pressed into you, his thick cock grinding into your back.

“Now here's what you want to do,” he said, moving his hand, accidentally brushing up against your moist core. His large hands take the reins from behind you, resting them on your thighs. His stubble grazing against your cheek, the masculine scent of his sweat fills your senses. Closing your eyes you inhale and you begin to squirm. He was working you up and he’d barely laid a hand on you.

He whipped the reins, the sound of the crack making your eyes fling open, the tail end stinging when it smacked into your leg. You couldn't help the small moan that escaped your lips, just like he couldn't help the way he ground into you at the sound.

The horse set to a trot, both of your body's bouncing together with each step. It was moving slowly, but Logan's hands were moving fast. Taking the reins in one, he used the other to glide up your thigh, your skirts gathering at his wrist. Traveling further up, his long fingers glide through your bare pussy, gathering the juices that flowed freely from your body. “Fuck you're so wet already,” he growled into your ear, “Bet you haven’t been fucked properly in ages,” His chapped lips devour, sucking and biting at your neck. While his hand began gently rubbing on your clit, his cock grew harder by the second. He felt long and thick grinding into your back. Your pussy grinding into the soft leather of the saddle, it wasn’t enough. You needed more, more of him. “I'm about to fix that,” he says, biting down on your shoulder and bringing the horse to a stop.

You barely noticed that you had trotted into a wood, the trees dense and the sun just peaking through the canopy. He dismounted the horse, your eyes drawn to his hard cock standing to attention in the breeze. The fucking assess chaps leaving nothing to the imagination. His eyes looked hungrily up at you, holding his hand out to you. Taking it yours as he helped you down from the horse, pulling you into a feverish kiss.

His eyes lustful as he backed you into a nearby tree, the bark grazing your back as he raised up your skirts. His strong hands lifting you up by the waist. You instinctively wrap your legs around him, his cock teasing just at your entrance. Sliding up and down through your dripping pussy and mixing it with his pre cum, “What a pretty thing you are,” he says, spearing into you his hard pace set from the go as he slams his cock into you. Your wanton moans and cries music to his ears as pleasure builds within you. His teeth sink into your lips drawing blood from them, ravaging your mouth. A hand travels up to grip your thigh pressing you harder into the tree, “look at me,” he demands, “ain’t no one gunna fuck you this good again,” he smirks, “you need this,” he punctuated with a deep thrust, “you gotta call me,” You nod at him words lost on your tongue as you chase euphoria, "Gunna get your addicted to my cock," he growls, his hands wrapping through your hair, tugging your head back, "You hear me?"

"Yes- Fuck, Yes. Logan!"

Like lightning he turns you, pressing your face into the wood as he fucks into you from behind, his hand rubbing on your swollen clit, “so close, need you to cum,” he growls into your shoulder, your cry out the pain shooting right into your pussy.

“Fuck! Logan,” you scream, pressing back into him. Taking both hands he lifts your ass, your feet dangling over the ground as he grinds his cock deep within you. Hitting your sweet spot he chuckles to himself, pressing into it again and again and again until you're sure you're going to faint.

“Who fucks you this good?”

“You Logan! Fuu-” His forearm slides under you holding you up, his other hand swirling down on your clit and sending you over the edge. Your body shakes, convulsing like give been exorcism. Your pussy clenching and convulsing on his cock until his warm cum shoots into you, filling you up until you feel it dripping down your leg.

Carefully he sets you back on the ground, your feet wobble and you decide to sit in the grass, before laying back to look at the green canopy above you. A blanket of sunshine encapsulates you, while a strong arm rests down beside you, “I should get back to my friend,” you say, “she'll be looking for me,”

“You're not going anywhere,” he growls, his body looming over you, his thigh sliding effortlessly between your legs, “I ain't done with you yet.”

[mikeisthricedeceased]

Yours or Mine?

Part 1 of 3

Logan Delos x fem!Reader

Series Warnings: Smut 18+, Dom!Logan, sub!Reader, enemies to lovers, praise kink, overstimulation, light choking, height difference, rough sex, sleepy sex, fluff, lots of snark, language

I got carried away with this so it’s longer than I planned. No smut in this part, but that’ll be coming soon 😏

Word Count: ~2.2k

A/N: This fic is a gift to @artemiseamoon for the Secret Santa Exchange! I don’t have much experience writing Dom dudes, but I hope you enjoy 🥰

Because this fic was created as a gift for a specific person, I tried to add a few little details to the reader character that made her a little closer to some of the recipient’s requests, so she is a plus-size woman of color and a bit on the shorter side.

Also want to say a special thank you to @the-purity-pen and @flightlessangelwings for arranging the whole exchange ❤️

Summary: You were invited to spend two weeks at a massive, luxury ski resort during the weeks leading up to Christmas; peak season for a place like that. You’re there to determine whether the company you represent, Walker & Pike, should invest in the resort and assist in its ongoing expansion. But you weren’t the only representative from an interested company that was invited; at least twenty rival corporations had sent their people. And unfortunately (or fortunately 😏) for you, that included Delos Destinations and the one man that you couldn’t stand to be around, Mr. Logan Delos.

There don’t seem to be enough layers in the world to keep the cold from sinking into your bones and making your teeth chatter. The air is sharp in the back of your throat from the moment the driver opens your door, unrelenting until you are well into the resort’s main lobby.

From the outside, it’s a grand building, styled to look like a rustic log cabin, but supersized to the point that you’re reminded of a Polly Pocket doll trying to vacation at Barbie’s dream house. There are at least two more, slightly smaller buildings of an identical style that are just visible off to the side of the main resort lodging. The invitation had mentioned some recent expansions, as well as plans for more. That’s the whole point of this…conference? Gathering?

Whatever term they might try to apply to it, you are here to decide whether the company you represent should invest in this place. Well, you and almost thirty other representatives from different vacation and resort financiers.

The inside is primarily made up of wood, polished to a luxurious shine, and is absolutely plastered with Christmas cheer. Garland is draped over the mantle of the lobby’s massive fireplace, as well as strung around every doorframe, all accented with glittering red bows. From where you’re standing, you count seven Christmas trees, including the massive one positioned next to the resort’s welcome sign, just begging to be the background of guests’ potential Instagram photos. And that’s not even mentioning the variety of elf, reindeer, snowman, penguin, and Santa Claus themed decorations on every wall.

They certainly embrace the holiday season.

You’re almost expecting the clerks behind the front desk to be wearing something festive, but they seem to have ordinary, crisp uniforms.

“Hi! Checking in?” asks one of the clerks as you approach, a welcoming smile spread across her face.

You nod, pulling your ID and invitation out of your bag, and setting them on the counter. “I’m representing Walker and Pike Inc.”

Her face brightens as she takes your things. “Of course!” She looks down at her computer, glancing to your ID as she enters your information. Then, she passes it back, along with the invitation, that big smile never leaving her face. “We’re so happy to have you. Your suite is ready and we’ll have someone bring your bags up. If you’d like, there are free drinks in the lounge for invite holders,” she gestures down one of the wide halls. “And a welcoming dinner tonight at 7:00. You’ll find a full itinerary in your suite, but feel free to call us here if you have any questions. Have a wonderful stay!”

“Thank you,” you say, smiling back. So, it’s one of those visits. With an itinerary built to show off all of their best events and services, instead of letting you wonder on your own. It makes sense in a practical way, but sometimes you wish you could opt out of certain activities in favor of sticking to ones you enjoy.

Just as you turn away from the desk, a uniformed attendant appears to take your bags and carry them away to your rooms. You make your way toward the lounge, scanning the various rooms and decorations on the way there.

Looks like it’ll be two full weeks of Christmas overload. It speaks to a little nostalgic part of you, but you also know that the resort is going out of its way to appeal to the holiday vacation market. It’s a solid strategy, but there aren’t many families with the means to stay in a place like this that don’t already have a yearly routine, and the kitschy-cute decoration wouldn’t do much for most single or coupled adults that might enjoy other aspects of a resort stay.

But, a little overenthusiastic decoration can be easily overlooked as long as the activities and amenities make a stay worth it. You’d read something about a spa and you’re looking forward to a little pampering in the coming days.

You order a drink once you reach the lounge and wait at the bar. It’s set in front of a massive windowed wall that gives a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. The skiing is supposed to be good here, so it’s safe to assume there will be a chunk of the itinerary dedicated to it.

“I was starting to wonder if Walker and Pike got an invite.” Tension grips your spine and you bite the inside of your cheek at the sound of his voice, nodding a quick ‘thank you’ as the bartender sets your drink down in front of you. “Wasn’t sure if you guys even qualified for something like this. Got any notes yet, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I do,” you begin, turning to face Logan Delos where he stands, a glass of bourbon in his hand. “I’m really impressed with the space in this lounge, but it still seems like there isn’t quite enough room for your ego. Did you have to smuggle it in your carry-on, or was it express shipped on its own plane?”

He shakes his head and sips his bourbon with a smile. “I checked it, the same way you did with that holier-than-thou attitude.”

You laugh just to keep from scowling. “God, you really are a charmer, Delos. It’s a wonder you can’t keep someone on your arm for longer than a night.”

He gives a mock pout “Aww, cheer up. I’m sure you’ll find someone that won’t string you along until they get bored. You’ve got two whole weeks to mingle with a group of eligible folks that might actually stay awake during a conversation with you.”

“Rot in hell,” you hiss through a bright smile.

He winks, subtly raising his glass to you. “Ladies first.”

You watch him saunter off toward the seating areas while you slump back against the edge of the bar, taking a long swallow of your drink.

It’s gonna be a long two weeks.

~*~*~*~

The dinner is mostly uneventful. You make polite conversation with the other company reps at your table, sipping at your water between each course and idly tracing your necklace with the tips of your fingers as the night wears on.

The music is alright, just something softly playing in the background to leave room for conversation. The food is good, though the menu seems a little limited. You wonder if there’s more variety for normal events, or if they offer these same dishes for everything.

When the dessert cart comes around, it does make up for it a little bit. They seem to have endless options on that front.

Throughout the dinner, you can feel eyes on you. You glance around at the other tables every few minutes, trying to figure out why that feeling never seems to fade, but you can never catch anyone looking at you.

Maybe it’s just that you’re in an unfamiliar place and that sort of thing plays tricks on the mind sometimes.

Once you make it back up to your suite, you immediately slip out of your formalwear and into something more comfortable. Spending almost three hours making shallow small talk with rival representatives has left you drained and nothing sounds better than getting cozy in your lush, king-sized bed and falling asleep.

You almost want to skip your nightly routine, but you know you’ll regret it in the morning if you don’t wash up or leave your hair free to snag on the pillowcase. So, with drooping eyelids, you shuffle into the en suite to get ready for bed.

Right as you’re finishing up, and in the middle of brushing your teeth, there’s a distinct knock knock at the door.

You rush to get done and hurry out to check the door, looking through the peephole.

It’s a significant effort to avoid groaning and banging your forehead against the door at the sight that greets you. “What do you want, Delos?” you call out instead.

There’s a faint sound from the other side, like he mutters something, before he answers. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m looking for the rep from Lincoln Co., Andrew. He wanted to meet up and I didn’t write down the room number. I thought this was it.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“Clearly,” he scoffs.

You roll your eyes. “Now, go away, please.”

“Wait, wait.”

“What?” You don’t try to hide the annoyance in your tone.

There’s a slight pause, and then he says, voice lowered, “Any idea which room he’s actually in?”

Rubbing your temple, you let out a sigh. “I don’t know. Probably 516 or something since you showed up here at 506.”

He taps a knuckle on the door. “Thanks, sweetheart. Have fun being antisocial.”

You don’t bother gracing him with a reply. He’s probably already on his way further down the hall and you aren’t looking to get a noise complaint by shouting through the door at him.

Groaning, you shuffle back to the bed and flop down onto your back.

~*~*~*~

The next morning, you’re expected to spend some time on the slopes.

You layer up, hoping you brought enough to protect you from the biting, frosty air. If it comes down to it, you can find some more in the souvenir and ski shop on the first floor. You’ll already have to pick up some gloves to replace yours, which you’d been digging through your luggage to find all morning, only to finally accept that they’d been forgotten at home.

Before that, though, you head down to the lobby to meet up with your guides for the day.

You find the group of other reps easily enough. It seems like you have all been divided into smaller groups, each about to be whisked away to do different activities, with plans to swap around after a few hours. Of course, skiing was your group’s first activity. And, of course, the one person you’d love to ignore for the entirety of the stay was in your group.

It’s just for today, you reassure yourself. And there are eight other people in the group. It’s fine.

So, you resolve to just ignore him whenever direct acknowledgement isn’t necessary. That plan works great while your group heads to the shop, and while you’re buying new gloves. Renting skis doesn’t pose any issue, nor does getting out to the bottom of the slope and onto the chairlift.

Experienced skiers are allowed to go right up, which includes Mr. Trust Fund himself, while the rest of you get a quick little run through of the basics first.

Skiing isn’t difficult when you really get down to it, but you’re a little distracted because you already feel on the verge of shivering. You don’t seem underdressed compared to everyone else. If anything, you may have on more layers than some of the members of your group. But still, with the frosty metal of the lift and the sharp, icy wind, you are starting to freeze before you even go down your first hill.

And then your plan completely falls apart as you’re exiting the chairlift. Eyes watering against the cold, you shuffle slowly out onto the snow, toes beginning to numb, and just as you start to angle down the slope, one of your skis clashes against someone gliding along next to you from a higher slope.

Heart leaping into your throat, you clack your skis together and jerk away, promptly losing balance and falling onto the hard packed snow. There’s the dull jab of the impact and the harsh bite of the cold seeping into your clothes.

The person you collided with manages to stay upright and comes to a practiced stop a few feet away. You push yourself up, fingertips painfully chilled despite your new gloves, and try to get back up but your skis just slide out from under you again as Logan approaches because why would there be mercy in this life?

“Y’know, Bunny slope’s that way,” he barks, jerking a thumb.

You huff, glaring up at him through teary eyes, face burning with embarrassment. “Gee. Thanks.”

“You’re gonna hurt yourself up here, sweetheart. Remember, pizza to stop, French fry to go,” he says, tone condescending as he mimes the actions. “And try not to ski out in front of people, yeah?”

“I know what to do, I’m just cold,” you snap, unsure if you were trembling with said cold, or just your barely restrained anger. “You’re the one that ran into me, asshole.”

He shakes his head as you once again try and fail to get on your feet. “Just go to one of the smaller slopes if you’re gonna be in the way. And if you want to quit falling on your ass, take your skis off, then stand up.”

You flip him off as well as you’re able to with numb fingers and clunky gloves, and he growls out a “you’re fucking welcome,” before taking off down the slope.

There is nothing you hate more than Logan Delos.

[visd3stele]

Silence sounds best on you.Logan Delos x fem!reader

summary: Logan wants to spice things up in the bedroon with a game. Alternativelly, smut, no plot.

tw: fingering, breast play, almost oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (don't do that! separate fiction from reality, please), p in v, begging, dirty talking, a barely visible sprinkle of sub!reader dom!Logan, lmk if I missed anything

a/n: First time writing for Logan, hope it's good. It was supposed to be a short drabble, but... oops? Not proof read

Your eyes flutter shut as a soft moan escapes your parted lips. One of your hands rests on the wall in front of you, as if to keep you on your feet. But what really sustains your weight is the strong arm wrapped around your middle.

No other than Logan Delos is behind you, biting and kissing into your shoulder as his hips roll into yours. His other arm is flexed on the wall next to yours and you snake your hand around his neck, turning your head to press a kiss on his bicep.

You feel his movements slow and he smirks when you whine your protest. "Shh, love. Why don't we make things more intresting?"

To be fairly honest, you didn't feel like playing much. Not with his cock burried deep in your aching pussy, begging for release. But his low voice and the brush of his lips on your sensitive skin convinced you to listen.

Logan dropped his hand from the wall and begin to draw lazy circles on your entrance. Your head fell on his shoulder and you whispered a sigh. Then, he stopped. "Logan," you cry, but the man is quick to silence you with a kiss.

"Nt, nt, nt, not a sound, princess. That's the game. I'll make you feel so good, y/n, but you have to keep quiet. Or I stop and this little pussy," he says, cupping you in his palm, "won't get to cum. Understood?"

You tried to answer, but you knew that if you open your mouth, you'd won't be able to keep your voice stady. Logan laughed in delight. The bastard could read you like an open book.

"Can't even speak, princess?" He taunts. "Haven't even started yet and you're such a mess, aren't you?" Without waiting for a response, he motioned to the bed. "Get up, baby, and spread those legs for me."

You felt yourself getting wet from his words alone. But your focus soon shifted on trying to hold back a gasp as his palm made contact with your ass.

"Logan!"

He raised his hands in mock surrender, filled a glass of wine for himself and watched you climb the mattress. His toungue passed over his lips, humming in appreciation and, once again, you tried your best to keep quiet.

Logan towered over you, a trail of clothes behind him as you were both sprawled naked on the sheets. He nuzzled your neck, his beard tickling, his mouth teasing your skin with feather light kisses. Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued his sweet torment, lower and lower.

Your fingers gripped his wild curls, tugging and silently asking for more. His hand played with your breasts, circling your nipples and pinching them from time to time. To be honest, Logan was amazed on how well you were doing. Breathing fast, but soundless, squirming under him instead of crying out in delight as you wanted, hoping to get what you wanted quickly.

Well, then, he'll just have to raise the stakes. And wirh that thought, Logan burried his head between your tighs. With no warning, he bit your clit, gently. Ans you yelped in surprise. His laugh sent waves of vibration through your cunt, clunching around nothing. "Logan," you cried, but he just pressed his finger over your lips and leaned down for a kiss.

"I told you to stay silent, love."

"Please, Logan, Please. I'll be silent this time, I promise."

The absurdely hot man in front of you figned pondering over it. He taped your sides with his fingers in fake concentration. "I do like it when you beg, my y/n. And since you asked so nicely..."

He let his words echo in the room, and brought himself above you again. He nibbled at your earlobes, allowing his fingers to travel up and down your body. You shivered, this time more careful to not let a sound slip.

Logan kissed and licked and sucked on your neck, chest, torso, marking you as his. It sent your heart in a fuzzy race against your ribs, bringing so much pleasure through you. His fingers sneaked between your legs now, playing with your folds. You pressed your lips together, shutting your eyes tightly, fighting with yourself to keep your moans inside.

Your body arched expectantly, trying to rub your sore pussy onto his fingers. But he stopped you with his hands on his hips. "No cheating, baby, be a good girl for me. Yeah?"

Your head feel into the pillow, palms pressed on his back, begging him to give you your realease. Logan chuckles, and circles your clit with his middle finger. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, but, to his surprise – and annoyance – you remain silent.

He plungs the finger inside you with one, rapid movement. And just as quickly, he pulls it out. Your walls clench around nothing, pulsing painfully to be filled. He keeps doing it, adding another finger on the way. You can feel your close, your orgasm burning in your belly, but just as your about to cum, Logan push inside you a third finger. Your unexpected, yet pleased, scream fills the room and suddenly, you're all empty again.

"So close, darling," Logan humms in mock pitty. Even without seeing his face, you could hear the laugh in voice. "You were so, so close." He presses his lips to your temple and makes a move to roll over you. But your nails dig in his back, keeping him in place.

"Please, Logan, sir, please. I'll be a good girl, I swear."

"Hmmm, 'tis what you said last time, isn't it, y/n?" His pouts, stroking your forehead where droplets of sweat gathered.

"One more chance, sir. Please. Please, sir. Logan, please."

Upon hearing your pathetic begs and seeing your scrunched up face, Logan lets out a loud laugh. "Look at you, pet, so, so needy for me, aren't ya?"

"Yes, sir, so needy. Please?"

"What do you want y/n? Do you want my fingers?" He traces the form of your cunt with his thumb, pressing from time to time, but not enough to ease the sore, burning ache inside. Unable to talk, you shook your head.

"No? Greedy girl. My mouth, then?" Logan makes a move to lower his head to your core, but once again, you stop him. You needed to cum. Quick. And you needed his cock for that. Plain and simple, there was nothing else to stretch you and hit every pulsing nerve like Logan's dick.

"You want my cock, princess? Are you sure? I don't think you deserve it." He teased. And you did your best not to whine.

"Yes, sir. I can be good. I will be good. Please let me cum, sir. Please!" At this point you were on your knees on the bed, covering his face with kisses in an attempt to make him yield.

Your desperation turned Logan on like nothing else. He wouldn't let go of your game, nor make it easier, but as he hardened next to you, he couldn't deny your wishes any longer.

"Lay down," he rasped. And you moved eagerly fast.

"Good, y/n," Logan mumbled, bringin your legs around his hips. "Remember the rules, yeah? I don't want a sound."

You nos inpatiently, gladly accepting his throaty chuckle over your lips right before claiming your mouth. Lost in the kiss, you almost gulped and bit your tongue when Logan's tip brushed against your entrance.

"Did you say something, love?"

You shook you head, not trusting yourself to speak. Logan enjoyed what he was doing to you way too much.

He rocked his hips a couple of times, teasing your entrance. You resisted the urge to pant and moan and whine and cry each time your walls closed around nothing, focusing instead on his hands on your body, his lips on your own.

Deciding he had enough, Logan pushed inside you with a deep, quick roll. He was ready to pull out, sure you'll be screaming his name, but stilled in shock when you burried your face in the pillow instead. He smirked and continued to roll inside you. Painfully slow.

You'd have asked him to go faster, beg even. But one word out of your mouth would surely turn into a loud sigh. And you couldn't have that again. So you took his punishing pace, not daring to raise your hips to meet his.

"You're so good, y/n. So tight around me, milking my cock."

His words, a wet breath in your ear, made your body tingle. "Don't you want to scream for me, princess? Don't I make you feel good enough."

You didn't know what to do. And for a hot second, you thought you have upset him. Dread worked its way up to your brain, but he reassured you with a sweet kiss, the words "good girl" leaping from his mouth.

Logan sped up the pace, purposefully missing the right spot. You felt him twitch and not long after, he cum inside you. The warm liquid splashing on your walls made your body arch, the somewhat tickling sensation being the last drop.

Your hips rolled on their own, taking the needed friction until Logan adjusted himself and helped you out. The orgams built inside you again. "Let go, love. Cum for me. And let me hear that pretty voice screaming my name, yeah?"

With his permission hummed between your breasts, you cum with a loud cry, tears dropping onto your face. "Logan!"

"That's right, darling, good job."

He rocked a few more times, riding your orgasm off. When he pulled out, a soft whine parted your lips. "Shhh, you did so good for me. I'm impressed, baby, really. Let's clean up now, come on."

masterlist.requests

[flightlessangelwings]

Here is my masterlist of all my fics for Kinktober 2021! All fics are labeled with what type of reader they are and all other warnings can be found on the fics themselves. Obviously, these all contain smut so no one under 18 should be reading or interacting with these fics please! Header made by me!

To stay updated on when I post, feel free to follow my fic update blog @flightlessangelwings-updates​ and turn on post notifications!

The list I used this year was provided by the wonderful @the-purity-pen and the full list can be found here! Divider made by @firefly-graphics

❤️ = personal favorite

1. Face sitting- Logan Delos x afab!reader

2. Threesome- Din Djarin x fem!reader x Koska Reeves ❤️

3. Ass worship- Bishop Losa x fem!reader

4. Spanking- Angel Reyes x fem!reader

5. Lap dance- Horacio Carrillo x fem!reader

6. Deep throating- Din Djarin x gn!reader

7. Strip tease- Ezra x afab!reader

8. Size kink- Paz Vizsla x fem!reader

9. Lingerie- Loki x afab!reader

10. Hickey/Biting- Santiago Garcia x afab!reader

11. Sleepy sex- EZ Reyes x afab!reader

12. Body worship- Benjamin Greene x fem!reader

13. Edging- Boba Fett x afab!reader

14. Temperature play- Billy Russo x fem!reader

15. Collaring- The Darkling x fem!reader

16. Nipple play- Din Djarin x afab!reader

17. Pegging- Benny Miller x fem!reader

18. Sex work- Pero Tovar x fem!reader ❤️

19. Overstimulation- Frank Castle x fem!reader

20. Sex toys- Thirteenth Doctor x afab!reader

21. Wax play- Comandante Veracruz x fem!reader ❤️

22. Thigh riding- Joel Miller x fem!reader

23. Cock warming- Marcus Pike x afab!reader

24. Slow and soft- Sam Wilson x fem!reader

25. Breath play- Fennec Shand x afab!reader

26. Strap- Captain Marvel x fem!reader

27. Swallowing- Frankie Morales x afab!reader

28. Teasing- Billy Russo x afab!reader

29. Food play- Clint Barton x afab!reader

30. Praise kink- Marcus Moreno x afab!reader 

31. Wild card: somnoplilia- Comandante Veracruz x fem!reader

[marvelmusing]

Take Your Pick

Pairing: Shapeshifter x Fem!Reader (featuring Billy Russo, Aleksander Morozova, William Thurber, Logan Delos, Benjamin Greene, Caspian).

Summary: Your boyfriend has a very interesting ability, and every character he can shift into has a special place in your heart. But which one do you want to spend the night with?

Warnings [18+]: alludes to smut, slightly suggestive.

A/N: a tiny little drabble, don’t ask me what this is because I have no idea but I liked the vibes.

My Masterlist

»»---------------------►

“I can be anything you want me to be.”

“I just want you,” you say shyly, looking down at your lap.

“Oh really?” His voice is coy, a low purr of faux consideration as the hint of a smirk tugs at his lips. He leans closer, practically caging you to the couch with his arms on either side of you.

His mouth grazes over your pulse and your eyes flutter shut as he mouths confidently over your neck, a grin blooming over his face.

“You don’t want me?”

A New York twang has entered his voice and when you look down to meet his eyes a shiver runs through your body at the almost predatory glint there.

“Hi Billy.”

“Hello darlin.”

He leans forwards capturing your lips in a determined kiss. His grip is tight on your chin and you can sense the moment he shifts into Aleksander as his hand releases your chin to cradle your cheek with the entirety of his palm.

His body presses firmly against yours and the two of you cling to one another as he furthers the kiss.

“Sasha,” you breathe out in a soft whine. “Please.”

He chuckles darkly.

“Moya milaya, always so eager.”

His hands settle on your waist, keeping you close as he unbuttons your blouse. Ducking his head down, he begins to kiss over your collarbones, leaving gentle bites over the skin there, nuzzling at the hollow of your throat.

When his lips begin to lower themselves down towards your breasts, and the prickle of Aleksander’s facial hair becomes a soft scrape of closely shaven stubble and a neat moustache, you thread your hand through the salt and pepper strands of hair on his head.

“William,” you gasp.

His mouth closes over your clothed nipple, tongue rolling over the nub hidden beneath the fabric of your bra. Warm brown eyes flick up to meet yours, an admiring and adoring softness filling his gaze.

He lowers his head back down, nosing over the edge of your underwear. His hair darkens to Billy’s slicked back locks and he bites down into the material keeping him from exposing your breasts.

As you tug on his hair, a low groan rumbles in his chest and with a wicked grin Logan reaches behind your back to unclasp your bra with practiced ease. He gropes at your breasts eagerly, large hands grasping at your soft skin and sensitive nipples.

“Which one of us would you like to take you?” Aleksander rasps against your ear. He nuzzles his way down your neck, mouth drifting back up to your other ear.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Logan goads, tugging on your hardened nipples.

A whimper catches in your throat at the thought of having to choose one of them. He hums quietly, biting down on your earlobe, tongue soothing the sting there. He grasps at your breasts, returning to your other ear as he shifts again.

“It’s definitely me,” Billy states with a confident smirk. “Right, darlin?”

He leans down to kiss your lips and you instantly know that it’s Benjamin. He kisses with the same vigour as Aleksander but he’s much more vocal in his enjoyment, a small whimper catching in his throat as he cups your face intently.

Both of you are breathless, chests heaving as he nuzzles his forehead against yours with a bright smile on his face. There’s a tiny scrunch at his nose and you can’t suppress the urge to kiss it gently which makes him blush.

“Hi Benji.”

“Hello love.”

Breathing out a soft laugh, you tilt your head at him.

“Are there any other contenders for me to consider tonight?”

He laughs softly, the corners of his eyes creasing adorably as he does. Then he kisses you.

As soon as his thumb begins to stroke over your cheek while you kiss, you realise he’s shifted into Caspian. His kiss lingers, sucking lightly on your lower lip as you part from one another.

Threading your hands through his long hair, you breathe out a soft smile as he brushes his nose affectionately against yours. As your hands continue to play with his hair, twirling the soft strands between your fingers, he moans quietly.

When he withdraws, it’s Billy who you’re looking at. His eyes are darkened with a wicked smirk on his lips. His gaze is heated as it rakes over your body, drawing a blush to the surface of your skin, thrumming down your body.

“So, which one will it be, darlin?”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

[marvelmusing]

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers 🖤

In Another Life [Aleksander x GN!Reader]

My longest series and the one I'm most proud of for finishing.

Tender Loving Care [Vampire!Aleksander x Fem!Vampire!Reader]

My ultimate vampire!Aleksander comfort fic.

Blood is Thicker [Fem!Reader]

Smutty vampire foursome. That's it. That's the fic. (Featuring Aleksander Morozova, Billy Russo, and Logan Delos).

Glitter & Gold AU [Modern!Darklina x Fem!Reader]

AKA: The high society AU where everyone is rich, successful, and bisexual.

The Twins [Billy Russo x Fem!Reader]

I just really love this AU (Featuring Billy's twin brother, Jonny Russo).

[the-purity-pen]

Scripted Vulnerability

[ moodboard by @flightlessangelwings​ ]

Actor!Logan Delos x Actor!Fem!Reader

Summary: Working as an actor was something you enjoyed beyond belief. But working with smarmy Logan Delos was quite possibly the worst. When a project opens the opportunity for the two of you to have intimate scenes, you question your own loyalty to the role until Logan is the one to persuade you to change your mind.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 - Coming Soon!

[the-purity-pen]

Scripted Vulnerability: Teaser

I hope you all will enjoy this wonderful new AU with Logan Delos, in which he is the smarmy but very talented and charming Hollywood actor. You play opposite him in a steamy romantic comedy but there’s more to your past with Mr. Delos than he remembers.

Your name fell off his lips in a question just a bit too easily. You weren’t sure how you didn’t physically cringe at the sound. He came closer and held out his hand to you for a handshake. You swallowed your pride and took his hand, his large one nearly dwarfing yours in comparison.

“What are you doing here Logan?” you asked through gritted teeth, forcing a painful little grin as your hands shook for a millisecond. You pulled your hand out of his quickly, almost as if you had been burned before turning around to walk around to the opposite side of the table and towards the front of the room.

“Same as you I suppose. Workin’,” he answered a bit too smoothly with a shrug of his shoulders. You didn’t even bother to lift your head to look at him when he spoke. Instead you set your coffee cup down and placed your bag on the empty chair to start unloading the papers and folders onto the large table.

Perm Taglist: @bendro-pascarnes @mitchi-c @nebulastarr @artsymaddie @darklingveracruz  @phoenixhalliwell @sleep-tight1 @guiidiiosa @miraclemoreno @rae-gar-targaryen @autumnleaves1991-blog @niki-xie @princess76179 @amneris21 @marvelprincess1994 @littlestarfighter03 @kaqua @just1bri @teapartydreams

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[marvelmusing]

Search and Rescue

Part of the Delos & Austen AU

Pairing: Logan Delos x Fem!Reader

Summary: Logan takes his future brother-in-law on a visit to Westworld, and you get concerned when he doesn’t return.

Warnings: canon level violence and injury.

My Masterlist

“Hi, Elsie isn’t it?” You say to a young woman. You’ve been wandering the halls of the Programming Division, hoping you’ll find some who’ll help you. She smiles at you, with a little confusion in her eyes,

“Yeah, you’re from Narrative right?” You return her smile rather distractedly,

“Yeah that’s me. Sorry for bothering you, I was just wondering whether you had access to our guest tracking system?” She nods lightly, her hands tightening on the data pad in her arms.

“Is there someone you’re looking for?” You nod, hesitating as you attempt to word what you’re about to say.

“Mr Delos went on a trip to Westworld. He was supposed to return last night.”

“Knowing Mr Delos he probably got distracted by some of the park’s activities.” You laugh, but it feels hollow in your chest.

“You’re probably right.” Your smile falters as you add, “It’s just that he was visiting with his future brother-in-law, and I’m sure his sister will be concerned about them.”

You don’t know if Juliet has even noticed, but it’s not like she would ask you about it. Whilst plenty of your colleagues have their theories, you and Logan have never publicly addressed your relationship. Some people think it’s obvious that you’re dating, some think you’ve been married for five years, some think you hate each other.

Logan’s father has been estranged for the last few years. Whilst you’re certain Juliet cares about Logan, you know she’ll probably wave off any concerns until around a couple of days of them being missing. You’re the only one who will check up on Logan.

Elsie nods in agreement, looking down at her open data pad as she brings up the tracking system.

“Huh.” She says, and you frown, trying to decipher what she’s reading on her data pad.

“What is it?”

“The tracking signal is jumping all over the place, but it looks like he’s at the edge of the park.”

“Is William with him?”

“Um,” she presses a few buttons, and waits for the signal to load. “Yeah, it looks like it.” You chew on your lower lip as you think.

“Is there any way you can narrow down their location?” Her brow crinkles, before she suggests,

“I can run facial tracking. It’ll show us when they were last seen by a host.” You nod eagerly.

She finds photos of Logan and William from the company database and loads it into the facial tracking algorithm. She stares intently at the screen, watching the tiny rectangles of footage covering the data pad like a mosaic.

“Jesus Christ.” She mutters, her eyes widening.

“What’s wrong?”

“A bunch of massacred hosts have just been brought in. Someone practically butchered them to pieces.” She looks up at you, before turning the screen towards you. “Looks like we know who’s responsible.”

You watch the screen as the footage plays. It’s from the point of view of a host, and there’s screams and cries emitting from the data pad at a low volume. They’re not real people, but they sound like them. The video shakes, you see dry dirt, splattered with blood. Then a familiar figure comes into view. William.

His eyes are wide, almost manic as he throws question after question at the host - demanding to know where a girl is.

Then you spot Logan. He’s on the floor, next to a pile of dead hosts. His hands are bound in front of him, and there’s a line of blood across his cheek. He’s looking warily up at William, and you can tell he’s frightened. You’ve never seen Logan frightened before.

William goads the host your footage is streaming from, and the host reaches frantically for a gun near his feet. Before his fingers can even close around the metal, there’s a bang from William’s gun and the host falls. The footage is still recording, so the host must still be alive. William steps into view, pulling out his knife, and you can hear Logan’s protests in the background as William plunged his knife into the host’s throat. The screen goes dark.

You and Elsie share a look.

“Have you seen Stubbs around?” You ask her, referring to the Head of Security. She nods,

“Come with me.”

You follow her through the maze of corridors, your mind racing. You had been a little apprehensive about Logan’s trip. But at the time your worst fear had been that Logan and William would have a disagreement that would make the wedding even more awkward. Never in your wildest dreams had you thought William would do something like this.

You knew that William didn’t like Logan. He wasn’t obvious about it like some of your meaner colleagues were. But you saw the amusement in his eyes when one of them made a comment that he clearly agreed with.

Elsie explains the situation to Stubbs, and he’s more than eager to help you. He grabs his tact gear and gun, before leading you both to the access corridor. You walk for what feels like miles before you reach the access lift for the area of Westworld that Elsie thinks they’re closest to. You don’t speak much as you make your way up into Westworld. Your thoughts are on Logan.

That footage was from several hours ago. Who knows what William might have done to Logan during that time, and however long it would take for you to find them both.

Bright, hot sunlight shines down on you, as three of you walk through the dry dirt and grass. Occasionally one of you will share an idea on what route to take, prompting a small discussion.

Elsie lifts her data pad up into the air, hoping for a better signal.

“The connection is awful out here.” She remarks in frustration. Stubbs hands you a flask of water, and you thank him before drinking some.

Frustration is clawing at your skin as well, there’s a desperation growing in your chest, that you feel that can only be fixed by continuing your search until you collapse from exhaustion, screaming Logan’s name into the dry earth.

“There should be a cell tower close by.” Elsie muses, looking around. You nod, knowing which one she’s talking about.

“That hill, I think.” You say, nodding towards a large set of rocks welded into the sand. You walk towards it before suggesting, “I’ll give you a boost?”

Elsie nods, following you. She folds up her data pad, slotting it into the inside pocket of her jacket. You reach the rocks, leaning your back against them as you fold your hands together. Stubbs stands beside Elsie, ready in case she falls backwards.

You help push her up the side of the rocks, and she manages to drag herself up to the top. There’s a few tense moments of quiet as she loads up her data pad, and you’re bouncing your leg with nerves. Anxiety presses over your throat, making the already hot air so much harder to breathe in. Then Elsie’s voice calls out from above,

“I’ve found them.”

Air floods your lungs, and you feel dizzy with relief. Stubbs helps Elsie climb down the last chunks of rock, despite her insistence. Once she’s down on solid ground, she shows you the location. It’s not too far away. As your little group sets off in the correct direction, you feel the urge to run to Logan.

It’s far too long for your liking, but soon enough the two of them are in sight. William must have stopped for a rest, and Logan remains bound with the end of the rope tied to the saddle of William’s horse.

“How are we going to do this?” Stubbs asks you.

“We’ll just walk up to them?” Elsie answers with a frown, and you shake your head,

“We don’t know how William will react. You saw what he did to those hosts.” Stubbs nods in agreement, and Elsie’s face grows distant as she remembers the footage you had watched.

“We should move in slowly.” Stubbs suggests, and you agree. “Each take a side, and you take the back.” He instructs you, to which you nod.

The three of you separate, heading in your designated directions.

You make your way quietly towards the two of them. The benefit of having a host horse is that it doesn’t startle when you approach. You can hear William and Logan talking, and a small flood of relief courses through you at the sound of Logan’s voice. You recognise Logan’s drawl, most likely making a smartass comment. Then you hear the sound of a punch, and you tense, a surge of anger prompting you into action. Seizing a large chunk of broken log, you round the side of the horse.

“Hey Billy.” You call out, using the nickname you know he hates. He turns, his eyes wide, hand on his pistol. But you’re faster. The log swings, colliding with his face. He lands on the floor with a groan. You cast the log aside, kicking him in the face. There’s a crack as his nose breaks, and he’s caught so unaware he can’t stop you from landing another two kicks to his stomach. He cries out when your foot strays lower, kicking him where it hurts the most. His face presses against the dirt, as he rocks from side to side in pain. You reach forward, grasping at the knife on his belt. His eyes meet yours for a moment, hard and angry, but there’s a flicker of fear as you hold the knife over him.

Then you turn to Logan. He gives you a small smile, lifting his bound hands towards you, wiggling one hand in a tiny wave. A relieved smile tugs at your lips as you approach him, breathing out a tiny laugh at how bashful he looks. Despite the humour in your interaction, both of yours and Logan’s eyes are filled with emotion.

His throat bobs as you begin to cut the ropes that bind his hands together. If he wasn’t so dehydrated, he thinks he would be crying by now. Your hands feel shaky as you work the sharp metal against the rope, and you can’t look at Logan. If you do, you’ll end up crying. He’s sunburnt, and bruised, and the skin around his wrists is raw. It hurts you to see your cocky, self-assured Logan like this.

“I thought I told you not to get into any trouble?” You say, attempting a joke though it fails when your voice cracks. Logan gives you a wobbly smile, as you pull the rope away from his wrists, discarding it.

“M’afraid trouble’s my middle name.”

The laugh gets caught in your throat, and the fear that’s been lingering in your heart for the last several hours gives way. Tears slide down your cheeks, but you don’t reach for Logan. You’re frozen still, afraid of hurting him despite every cell in your body screaming out for him.

Logan wraps his arms tight around you, crushing your body against his chest. His ribs ache from the bruising caused by the falls he took as William’s horse dragged him over the terran. Every muscle in his body is sore and tender, but he holds you with every ounce of strength he has left.

He buries his face against your neck, wincing when his sunburnt skin catches against your clothing. You cling onto the arms of his jacket, and it feels as though you’re the only thing holding the two of you up.

You both turn at the sound of someone approaching. A frown creases your brow when you hear a small crackle of electricity. Then William cries out in pain.

Elsie has a taser in her hand, and is pointing it at William. You meet her eyes, and she gives you a wide grin. Stubbs shakes his head at her with a small sigh, but doesn’t attempt to stop her.

Logan tightens his grip on you, as his eyes dart between Elsie and Stubbs. Then he looks down at you.

“You came for me.” He says softly, his voice hoarse and dry. Your eyes widen as you see the surprise in his gaze.

“Of course I did. Wherever you are, I’ll always come for you.”

He presses his face hard against your neck, ignoring the pain of his raw skin as he chokes on a small sob. Your fingers card through his hair, careful of the matted tangles from the grime and sweat of the last few days.

“That’s a good line Austen, should include it in that new romance narrative.” He teases, but his words are shaky and filled with emotion now that he knows for certain that he’s safe. He feels your shake your head, before insisting in a soft voice,

“Those words are just for you.”

[marvelmusing]

Delos and Austen

Pairing: Logan Delos x Fem!Reader

Summary: Logan Delos is the CEO of Westworld, you are the co-head of Narrative, and have been friends with Logan for nearly two years. He decides you’re in need of a break, and invites you on a trip to Westworld.

Warnings [18+]: unprotected sex, little bit of praise kink, a smidge of exhibition kink (but not really?), language, violence, background character death (not detailed).

A/N: I’ve nearly finished the first season of Westworld, so this is very much an AU based loosely on the first season because I’m slightly obsessed with Logan. Anyway, hope you enjoy it.

Word Count: 6.9K

My Masterlist

“Austen!” You lift your eyes from your phone at the sound of a familiar voice and nickname. “Hold the doors, would you?” You nudge your foot between the doors of the elevator, and they slide open. Logan gives you a wide smile in thanks as he stands beside you. You press the button for his floor and try not to look too hard at him. He’s dressed in his usual blue suit, with a white button down and a thin black tie. Every inch the dashing CEO. His bronzed skin makes the white of his shirt seem crisper. You force yourself to stop admiring him. There’s a ridiculous number of floors until the elevator will reach your floor, and you won’t be able to bare his teasing if he catches you.

“Enjoy your holiday?” He gives you the side eye with a smirk as his hands slide into his pockets.

“I think you know the answer to that.” An answering smirk tugs at your lips.

“You earned me a lot of money last week.” His eyes narrow slightly,

“You and your colleagues don’t bet on the real guests, do you?” You shake your head with a small smile.

“Just you.”

“Well, I hope you liked what you saw.” You roll your eyes, but warmth blooms over your cheeks as you remember exactly what Logan spent his week doing. One of his typical visits to Westworld. “You miss me?” He teases, and you’re tempted to roll your eyes again.

“Not at all. I’ve actually managed to get some work done without you pestering me.” He grins, shaking his head at you.

“Austen, I swear I’ve never met a workaholic quite as bad as you are.” There it is again. Logan’s nickname for you. When you’d first met he hadn’t bothered to remember your name - simply referring to you as the writer. You’d snapped at him eventually, declaring that you had a name, to which he’d snarked back at you, calling you little miss Shakespeare. From then onwards he’d called you about every author he could think of. Austen is one of the few that’s stuck around as the two of you finally became friends. “When’s the last time you had any fun?”

“My work is fun.” You argue. He quirks a brow at you, a small chuckle in his remark,

“Sure thing.” You shrug lightly,

“You seemed to enjoy it.” Puzzlement fills his dark eyes, and you smile casually. “The hosts are only capable of about thirty percent improv. The rest is all pre-written responses stored in their word bank. The improv algorithm then selects the most appropriate response.”

“If that’s how you’re planning on convincing me that your work is fun, you better keep trying.” Your smile widens into something that sparks Logan’s interest. There’s mischief in your eyes as he waits for your reply.

“All those dirty little whispers you seemed to enjoy so much? They were all from me.” You see the realisation dawning in his eyes, as he thinks back to his time in the park. “Just something to think about during your next visit.” You say softly, accompanied by the chime of the elevator arriving at your floor. “Have a nice day, Mr Delos.” Your heart is hammering in your chest as you step out into your corridor - and Logan Delos is still speechless. Something you didn’t think was possible.

You’re halfway down the corridor when you realise you haven’t heard the elevator doors shut. Against your better judgement, you glance back. Logan’s eyes meet yours, filled with an expression that has a shiver running down your spine.

»»---------------------►

You don’t see Logan for a while after that, the two of you are busy in your respective roles for the business. So you had almost forgotten your interaction in the elevator when Logan came to your office.

“You’ve never been to Westworld.” He states, walking towards you and lounging in one of the seats in front of your desk.

“Hello to you too Logan.” You lift your eyes from your screen to find him studying the contents of your office - as if he isn’t in here regularly.

“I checked the records, you’ve never used your employee discount.”

“Well perhaps some of us spend our holidays in the real world.” He scoffs,

“And you enjoy that?” You shoot him an offended look.

“What is it with you and attacking my personal life?” He ignores your question,

“What’re you doing this weekend?”

“Avoiding you.” A smirk tugs at his lips,

“Not any more. We’re going to Westworld.”

“Logan-“

“You got something better to do?” He raises a brow at you, and you hold his gaze for a long moment before you sigh,

“No.”

“Great.” He stands up with an eager smile on his face, doing up the button on his blazer. “I’m getting the night train, but I’ll meet you at the station. I expect you to be there bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t have a say in this do I?” You say with sigh as he strolls over to the door.

“Course you do.” He says with a wink, and then he’s gone.

»»---------------------►

You can’t quite believe that Logan has dragged you into this - is the thought that you’re trying to make the truth. When in fact, you’ve always wanted to visit Westworld, and the fact that you would never really be able to turn him down. You spot the dark cowboy almost instantly. Logan flashes you a wide smile as he sees you through the window of the train carriage. He watches you as you make your way off the train, battered trunk in hand.

“What’s with the luggage, Austen?”

“Outfit change.” He raises a brow at you.

“And they say I’m vain.” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Forgive me for not wanting to wear petticoats for our entire trip.” Logan perks up at the mention of petticoats. He looks you up and down. He has to admit, you make a pretty fine cowboy. You’d picked out some dark trousers, a deep brown waistcoat, and white shirt. The boots give you a little extra height, and your dark jacket flares with the warm breeze. His smile is wide as he admires you, and he reaches out to tap his knuckle against the brim of your hat.

“A black hat, huh?” You shrug with a smirk.

“It’s a nightmare to get the dust off a white hat.”

“Yeah, that’s the reason.” He tugs at the handle of your case, and you let him take it despite the frown on your face. “What?” He asks, taking note of your expression.

“I thought Westworld brought out the worst in people. Turns out it makes you a gentleman.”

“Fuck off.” You laugh, and Logan grins at you. The two of you begin to head down the street, and he nods towards the centre of town. “I got us a room at the Silver Dollar.” Logan knows Westworld like the back of his hand, and you helped create half of the storylines surrounding you, so the two of you are quite at home. Logan takes your trunk up to your room, while you wait in the foyer of the saloon. The Silver Dollar is in a quieter part of town, if there’s such a thing as quiet in Westworld.

The two of you make your way to the centre of Sweetwater, stopping in the most popular saloon - the Mariposa. Logan turns to look at you, grinning, before he swings the saloon doors open, and you follow him inside. A lively tune plays out from the pianola, and the sound of drinking and laughter fills the room. There’s a few other guests, but for the most part you’re surrounded by hosts. The two of you stand at the empty bar, and Logan leans towards you,

“You got your eye on someone?” You pull your gaze from a girl across the room. Your head tilted to one side, you give him a once over. Once your eyes meet his you smirk,

“Maybe.” You counter in a flirty tone. He grins, loving the chance to see this new side of you. You gesture to the bartender, and he pours you two drinks. “So what now?” You ask, looking at Logan. He shakes his head,

“Today’s all on you.” You pull on your lower lip with your teeth as you think, not noticing Logan’s gaze fixate on the soft plush of your lips. His eyes lift back up quickly as your mouth curls into a smirk.

“I happen to know where a gang of smugglers are hiding out. Fancy some shooting practice?” His eyes don’t leave yours as he takes a swig of his whiskey. He sets the glass down with a small thud.

“We’re gonna need some guns.”

»»---------------------►

“You do know we can just walk down there and shoot them all?” Logan remarks. The two of you are lying flat on your stomachs, side by side, behind a large piece of rock. You had managed to find the smugglers with little trouble, now all that was left was to move in on them.

“Yes, I know that. But I at least want to pretend I’m outsmarting them.”

“It’s not outsmarting if you already know they’re going to do.” You sigh, turning onto your side to face Logan. His eyes rake down your body and he smirks, “I can think of a few other things we could be doing to pass the time.” You narrow your eyes at him,

“I bet you can.” He flicks the brim of your hat, dislodging it slightly. You lean over and push his hat playfully. He raises a brow at you, and you mimic his expression with a cheeky smile. He lunges forwards, knocking your hat from your head.

“Logan!” You cry out, and he presses a hand to your mouth.

“Stay quiet Austen, thought you wanted the element of surprise.” You shove at him with a pout, and he lets his hand drop.

“You asshole!” You hiss at him. “You got sand in my hat.” Grains of sand fall from the hat, and you have to shake it several times to clear it. “Logan Delos you are a sick individual.” He laughs, a bright, genuine laugh that you can’t help but smile at as you put your hat back on. You suddenly realise how much closer you had gotten, the warmth of Logan’s body now right by your side. He adjusts your hat slightly, moving the brim so that he can meet your eyes.

“I like seeing you like this.” He admits softly.

“Plotting the murder of some smugglers?” He rolls his eyes at you,

“No. I-“ Neither of you react at the sound of a gun cocking. Hosts can’t actually shoot you, so you both know you’re safe. You hear Logan swear in irritation at being disrupted. You look up at the smuggler who’s aiming his gun at you.

“Do you mind? We’re kind of having a moment here?” You ask, and Logan laughs. His eyes twinkle as he looks at you. You both share an exasperated look as the host recounts his scripted threats. You tilt your head towards him, your eyes still on Logan. “Do you want this one, or…?” He shakes his head.

“All yours.” You pull out your pistol and fire two shots into the smuggler’s chest. He goes down with a spurt of blood and a thud. When you turn back to Logan he’s smiling at you.

“I think you enjoyed that a little too much.” You remark.

“No such thing.” He tilts his head to watch you, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You shift slightly, bringing yourself closer to him.

Then the gunfire starts. “This is your fault.” Logan insists, as the two of you lay low.

“How is this my fault?”

“They heard you.”

“Yeah, yelling at you for being annoying. Now I suppose we’ll have to do it your way.”

“My way?”

“Running down there and shooting everyone.” His eyes light up. You shake your head at him, not even trying to fight your smile.

“How about this,” he suggests as he pulls out his pistol. “Whoever kills the most smugglers gets to choose where we have dinner.”

“Deal.” You say, grabbing your shotgun. The hosts in this group are programmed to miss guests, so you and Logan both duck out from your hiding spot without much care.

Logan is faster than you, but he nearly slips as he runs down the slope towards the band of smugglers. A cloud of dust billows behind him, and you hear him cough. With a grin, you take aim at the smugglers. When Logan hears you firing he yells complaints at you, to which you respond with a very sympathetic ‘run faster’. You hear Logan’s laughter and realise that coming to Westworld with him was one of the best decisions you had made in a while.

»»---------------------►

You won the bet, much to Logan’s dismay. His plans of taking you to a strip club were scuppered when you told him where you were going for dinner. The Golden Rose - one of the more respectable places to eat in Westworld. Logan had complained immensely, even more so when you kicked him out of your shared room so that you could change for the evening. He’s busy glowering at the wooden planks beneath his feet as he paces the entrance to the saloon you’re staying at. So, he doesn’t notice you approaching until you clear your throat.

Logan’s jaw nearly drops. There’s been plenty of instances where Logan has considered you beautiful. When you get excited and ramble on about the inner details of a storyline. When you bounce back from his taunts with your own teasing. Even today, with the sun shining down on your face as you soak in everything Westworld has to offer. But now, he’s certain you’ve never looked more beautiful. He’s never understood the frills and ruffles on the dresses the girls in Westworld wear, but seeing them on you makes them look delicate and pretty. The satin skirts rustle slightly as you step towards him, and he can’t stop himself from staring. Your dress is a rich green, and white lace adorns the edges of the fabric. A plunging neckline reveals more of you than he’s ever seen before, and Logan considers it a crime that he’s been unable to admire the delicate slope of your neck, or the soft skin of your chest all this time.

You watch his reaction, fiddling with the white lace gloves as nerves take a hold of you for the first time today.

“Too much?” You ask, hesitantly. He shakes his head, lips parted but no words fall from them. A soft smile curls at your lips as you step closer to him, “This is the second time I’ve made you speechless.” You lean forward, adjusting his tie as you say softly, “Do you remember the first?” His eyes snap to yours, and he gives you the same look as before, like he wants to devour you whole. He steps forward, and you lean back. Towering over you, Logan places his hands on your waist, just where the fabric of the dress begins to flare out.

“Do I remember?” He muses in a dark tone. Your back presses against one of the beams that supports the awning at the front of the saloon, his body now flush against yours. “Do you have any idea how hard your little stunt in the elevator made me?” He says against your neck as he mouths hot kisses over your exposed skin. You breathe out his name in a pleading tone. “Was thinking about what you told me, all day long.” He nips his teeth into the soft flesh under your jaw, and you tilt your head back with a small gasp. “That every time I was fucking one of those whores. When they begged for my cock, for my fingers, for my cum. That was all you, darlin’.” You whine both at his words, and the new nickname, as he continues to work his mouth over your neck. “Thought about it every night. The things they said, and replaced them with you.” You shudder as his teeth tug at your earlobe. “Your sweet voice begging for me. Your pretty face scrunched up in pleasure. Your little whines and gasps and moans.” His hands are firm on your waist, preventing your hips from moving to search out the friction you’re desperate for.

Then he pulls away. The cool night air hits you, making you realise how flushed you are. Logan stands a few paces away, his hands in his pockets with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Logan, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Taking you to dinner.” You close your eyes for a long moment, trying to process the sexual whiplash. His soft laughter doesn’t help. “Call it a taste of your own medicine.” You scowl at him and he laughs again. He holds out his arm to you, and despite your annoyance you link arms with him.

“I hate you.” You insist as the two of you make your way down the street. He chuckles before his lips brush against your ear as he says quietly,

“I’m sure if I slipped a hand into your panties I’d feel just how much you hate me.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass all night I’ll dine by myself.” He grins, pressing a kiss to your temple. Despite his filthy words only moments prior, you can’t help the rush of warmth flooding your cheeks at the simple action of his lips against your hairline.

“If you’re a good girl, and put up with me during dinner, you’ll get a reward.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d want your reward.” You remark lightly, but you both know the truth.

»»---------------------►

Logan actually keeps the teasing to a minimum during dinner. Which means that he’s his usual flirty self. Suggestive comments and winks are thrown your way, and you find it harder and harder to shrug them off as you usually would.

At one point you open your fan, directing a cool breeze to the flushed skin of your throat. Logan follows the motion with dark eyes.

“Hot, darlin?” He remarks, leaning back in his chair as he watches you.

“No.” He gestures at the fan with an unbelieving look. “It’s for the aesthetic.” A coy smirk traces his lips. His eyes trailing down from your face to your chest again.

Throughout the meal, Logan insists on you trying a piece of his food. The first time it happens you’re thoroughly flustered, as his gaze roams over you. He watches your lips enclose around his fork, your eyes fluttering closed as you taste the dish. You notice his eyes dipping to stare down your bodice and you narrow your eyes at him. By the third time he offers you a bite you’re very nearly scowling at him.

“Come on darlin.” He coos at you, waving his fork enticingly. In all honesty, the dessert he picked looks good. So, you roll your eyes with a sigh, but indulge him nonetheless. You’re not too certain about the historical accuracy of having chocolate desserts in Westworld, but it tastes far too good for you to care. As usual, Logan watches you intently, and you reach for your napkin. He gets to your lips first, brushing some remaining chocolate away with his thumb. Your eyes widen slightly, but you trace your tongue against the pad of his thumb, sucking it gently between your lips. Logan’s eyes seem to darken even more. “Good girl.”

It isn’t long before the two of you are heading back to your room.

»»---------------------►

“How attached are you to this dress?”

“Don’t rip it.” You plead, and he clenches his jaw slightly at the thought of not having you right now. “You’ve made me wait all night, you can last another five minutes.” You tell him, tugging your shoes off and discarding them as you move further into the room. You stand in front of the mirror attached to the wardrobe and attempt to undo your dress. Logan watches for a moment, leaning against the door.

“You need a hand?” You huff as your arms strain to untangle the lacing at the back. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and you nod,

“Please.” A lazy grin covers his face as he approaches you. He undoes the laces with ease, and you watch his reflection in the mirror, his brows furrowed lightly as he concentrates. The dress is only two layers, and he helps you step out of the first one. He folds the dress over a chair and returns to you. His body presses against your back, as he slips the shoulders of your under layer down. There’s no intricate lacing, just a few simple buttons that he undoes, letting the fabric slide away from your body to pool down around your feet.

“Look at you.” He whispers as his eyes trail down the length of your body. The structure of the dress meant you had forgo a bra, and you were wearing cotton panties for the sake of comfort during your trip. But with the way Logan looks at you, you might as well be made of gold. He steps back, and you frown, turning around to face him. He’s sitting at the end of the bed, legs spread apart casually, but his stare doesn’t falter. “Think it’s time you return the favour darlin.”

A small smile tugs at your lips and you sink to your knees in front of him. His eyes are locked on yours, and you see his adam’s apple bob as he takes in the sight of you. Without breaking eye contact, you tug off his boots and socks. Then you lean forward, pulling his jacket off. Logan watches your chest as your breathing becomes more and more heavy with each article of clothing removed. He licks his lips, an action that does not go unnoticed by you. When only his underwear remains, he beckons you closer, dipping his head down to capture your lips. One of his hands fists your hair, the other grasps onto one of your breasts, kneading it with his fingers. The wooden floor is hard on your knees, but you stay where you are, held in place by Logan’s hand in your hair. You moan into his mouth, your nails digging into the bare flesh of his thighs. He groans in response, and nips your lower lip between his teeth, to which your grip on him tightens.

“Fuck, I’m going to ruin you.” He growls, his tone sending a shudder down your spine. He tugs on your hair to bare your throat to him. When his teeth sink into the sensitive skin of your shoulder, your hips jerk towards him. He laughs darkly, sending a flood of warmth through your body and you whine. “You that desperate darlin? Gonna hump against my leg like a needy little puppy?”

“Fuck you.” You hiss, though there’s no venom in your voice, and he laughs again.

“Oh I know you want to.” He leans back, his hands releasing you and lying flat on the bed. “So convince me.”

“What?”

“All those dirty little whispers.” He says, quoting you. “Put them to good use.” Your eyes widen, and you can’t think for a solid five seconds. Logan pats his thigh, and you manoeuvre yourself into his lap. “You can hide your face if it makes you feel better.” He murmurs, as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck.

“Need you Logan.” A trails a singular finger down your spine, drawing a shudder from you.

“I know you do, so tell me what you want. Put that clever little mouth of yours to work.”

“Want you to fuck me.” You start quietly.

“Another literary masterpiece as always, Austen.” You nip at his earlobe, dragging it slowly between your teeth, your tongue trailing against the skin for a moment. He hums in surprise, but his response is still very controlled. You want to see him break.

“I want you to fuck me full, Logan. Want to have your cum spill out of my pussy.” You trail your hand down his chest, along his stomach, to cup his bulge. The muscle in his jaw clenches as you circle your thumb delicately. “I know you’re big, know you’d fill me so well.” He grips onto your hips tightly but you continue, wanting more of a reaction from him. “I might be a little tight, but I know you’ll make it fit.” Your voice is a soft whisper against his ear, “Because I was made for you.”

The world spins, and the next thing you know your back is against the mattress. Logan’s hand is on your throat, his knees pin each of your thighs down, spreading you open for him. The two of you are breathless, from the teasing, and the sudden motion that’s landed you in this new position. His eyes bore into yours and you lift a brow,

“Convinced, sir?” He growls, his lips descending to move against every inch of your body. With your legs pinned, and his hand still on your throat, you can do very little but succumb to the feeling of his hot, wet mouth as he ravages every bit of you. Your hands go to his hair, tugging hard to try and find something to ground you. He moans at your actions, his teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your breast. As with everything in life, Logan goes all out. He bites red marks into your skin, branding you as his. The feeling of his wet tongue tracing over your most tender spots has you shaking. When he pulls away you nearly sob, as the sudden lack of such pleasure overwhelms you. Then you realise he’s pulling your panties down. His fingers trail over your legs as he removes the garment. He groans at how soaked they are, and once you’re free you spread your legs.

“What a pretty sight.” His hands smooth over your thighs as he hovers over you. He presses his lips against yours, his hold on your thighs preventing you from rocking against him. His lips move to your throat, down the valley of your breasts. He presses soft kisses in a line down your stomach, the scrape of his beard alighting your body with shivers. You don’t see his wicked grin, but you feel him blow cold air against your bare pussy, drawing something between a whine and a growl from your throat. But you don’t have time to throw an insult at him, because the cold air is soon replaced with his hot tongue against your slit. With a gasp, you throw your head back. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place as he works his tongue against your pussy. A shockingly loud moan is ripped from your throat when he slides a finger into you. You whine when he pulls out, watching him as he observes his slick covered finger. Then he slides two fingers in, curling them as you clench around him.

“It’s a good job that I did all that teasing earlier, otherwise I’d never fit in such a tight little pussy.” You buck your hips against his fingers, needing more of him.

“Logan, please.”

“So well mannered now.” He remarks as he rocks his fingers inside of you. “Please what, darlin?”

“Please.” You pause, trying and failing to catch your breath. “Can I have your cock?”

“Don’t you want to cum first?” You shake your head violently, and he chuckles. His thumb brushes over your clit and you yelp in pleasure. “You sure about that? Cause little pussy is gripping me like a vice.” He traces slow circles over your clit, and you arch your back, desperate to take more of him. Logan kisses your thighs as he increases his pace, nipping his teeth against your soft flesh.

“Oh Logan, please.” He’s entranced, watching you nearly mad with pleasure, your wet pussy clutching around his fingers. He needs to see you cum, needs to feel your wet heat spill onto his hand.

“Cum for me sweetheart.” He says, lowering his mouth to your clit and sucking hard. Your hands grip onto his hair again, and you cry out his name as you climax. He continues his motions, prolonging your bliss. You whimper slightly when he removes his fingers. He holds them out to you, and you manage to prop yourself up on your elbows, leaning forward to take his fingers into your mouth. Logan’s eyes are locked on yours as you clean off his fingers with your tongue. Once you’re finished, he pulls away, tugging off his underwear before he practically leaps back into bed with you. You giggle,

“Someone’s eager.” He grins at you, slotting himself between your legs.

“You ready for me?” He asks, with genuine concern in his eyes.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Good. Cause I ain’t stopping until you beg me.”

Your thighs and pussy are coated in slick, allowing him to slide in with ease though you still feel the stretch. Logan presses his forehead against yours.

“Doing okay?” He asks, his voice strained. You nod, your own voice nonexistent. “Course you are, doing so good for me.” You moan at the sound of his praise, and he grins. He takes hold of your wrists, guiding your hands to grip onto the metal frame of the bed. His own hands hold right onto your hips, and then he begins to move. The drag of his cock drawing more moans from your lips, as he hits every pleasure spot you have inside you.

All the while he’s whispering filth into your ear.

“You think your colleagues are making bets right now? Betting how long you’ll last before you come around my cock, huh?” He knows they’re not, because he turned off visibility for the entire saloon. No one else is allowed to see you like this. But he doesn’t regret his words when he feels you clench around him. “Fuck, baby, if you were one of those plastic dolls, this pussy would make me a fortune. But you’re mine. All mine.”

“All yours, fuck, Logan.” He groans,

“Say my name again. Who’s making you feel this good?”

“It’s you, oh fuck Logan. It’s you, it’s all you.” Those are the last coherent words from you. As your mind clouds over with pleasure, pleas and cries of his name are the only sounds from your lips. He scoffs a laugh,

“All those pretty words of yours Austen, and now the only thing you can say is my name.” Your nails press into the skin of your palm as you grip the headboard even tighter. Logan captures each of your gasps and moans with his lips as you teeter on the brink of another orgasm. He dips one hand down between your legs to rub at your clit, and you arch even further into him. He groans as you begin to lose control, your entire body shaking. His forehead presses against your collarbone.

“Cum for me, baby.” He encourages you, and you take your hands away from the headboard, grasping at his hips.

“You too.” You gasp, sliding your nails over his back. He shudders,

“M’right behind you.” You cry out his name as you cum for the second time. Logan growls your name against the skin of your shoulder as he continues to pound into you. His moans get even louder as your pussy spasms around him. His teeth sink into your throat as he cums, spilling inside of you. Your eyes roll back as the after waves hit you, feeling his warmth filling you as your pussy continues to twitch. You’re suddenly aware of how quiet it is in the room, with just the sounds of your breathing as the two of you attempt to catch your breath. Logan is careful as he pulls out, watching your face as you hum quietly. He lies down, half on top of you, but you like the reassurance of his weight. The sounds of Sweetwater’s nightlife filter in through the thin glass of the window. Drunken guests singing along to the saloon’s music, very distant gunfire, and the quiet hum of the desert surrounding you. Suddenly becoming aware of everything, you laugh softly,

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

“That good, huh?” He says with a grin, then he lifts his gaze to meet your eyes. “You regret it?” You watch him as he props himself up to look at you. You lift a hand to smooth a strand of hair away from his forehead.

“No.” You admit softly. “Do you?” He shakes his head.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” Surprise fills your eyes as you tilt your head at him.

“Seriously?” A half-smirk tugs at his lips.

“You couldn’t tell?”

“Logan, you flirt with everything that moves.” He opens his mouth in faux shock.

“I do not.” You raise a brow at him, and he relents, “Okay, maybe I do. But,” he adds, raising a finger. “You are my favourite.” He taps his finger against your forearm to emphasise his point.

“Really?” You ask quietly. He nods, genuine care in his eyes at his admission. You smile tenderly at him, which he returns with his own boyish smile. Then he shrugs,

“But don’t let that go to your head, Austen. Cause the last thing we need is another writer with a greater sense of their own self importan-” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. He cups your face carefully, even when your lips separate.

“You’re my favourite too.” You tell him, knowing that this is as close to a love confession that Logan can vocalise. He leans in to kiss you again, the two of you practically beaming against each other’s lips.

»»---------------------►

Sunlight casts a golden glow over the room, as you blink the sleep from your eyes. Your head is tucked against Logan’s chest, one leg draped over his, the other pressed against his body. His hand is tucked under your knee, holding your leg in place. The fingers on his other hand trace over your bare shoulders, feather light touches against your skin. You can already hear the sounds of the townspeople bustling down on the street. There’s an entire world out there waiting for you, but you’re perfectly content to stay in this quiet moment with Logan’s arms around you. You turn your head, eyes meeting his straight away.

“Mornin’.” He says, his voice still raspy from sleep. You smile up at him,

“Morning.” He smooths his hand over your thigh, his thumb circling as he repeats the motion several times. You sigh contentedly, “We planning on staying in bed all day?”

“Well, you wouldn’t hear any complaints from me.” You smile fondly at him. “But I had a couple of ideas for today.” You hum in acknowledgement and he continues, “I was thinking we could ride over to the riverbank. If you’re not too sore after last night.” He teases. You press your face against his chest as your cheeks warm.

“I’m sure I’ll manage.” You mumble against his skin, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head,

“Atta girl.”

»»---------------------►

It’s approaching noon as the two of you walk down the street towards where Logan left your horses yesterday, meaning that you’ve missed the morning shootout between the Sheriff and some bandits perfectly. Logan’s cowboy swagger looks considerably less mysterious as he swings his hand in your own, and you can’t push the smile off your face. He always looks happy and carefree in Westworld, but never like this.

Every employee of Westworld has horse riding and shooting lessons, on the occasion that the skills are needed when out in the park. It’s nice for you to finally put those skills to use. Even nicer when it’s for a day out in the sun with Logan. You’re more familiar with the towns and people of Westworld, since you’re the one who knows their backstories, their current narrative, their jobs, and their families. Meaning that you’re more than happy to follow Logan’s lead as the two of you ride out into the desert.

He stops by a secluded creek, there’s a few trees providing another shade for the two of you to relax in. You slide off your horse, and Logan takes the reins from you. He nods behind you,

“Take a look.” You turn, and the sight takes your breath away. In the distance you can see the river winding its way into the mountains, and the mountains themselves are hazy with the heat. The sky is a shocking blue, a stark contrast from dusty red of the pillars of rock that surround you. A perfect little valley. The spot where you had stopped has grass that’s a much brighter hue than the dried out blades that surround Sweetwater, and in the corner of your eye you catch the sight of some stray cattle grazing. Aside from the cattle and the birds, you and Logan are completely alone. You turn back to him, finding his eyes fixed on your face. There’s a softness in his expression as he observes the wonder on your face. Then he pulls a bottle out of his pack with a grin.

“Fancy a drink?” And you laugh with a nod. You toss a blanket down over the dirt floor, and the two of you settle down with your food and drink.

“You know, I sometimes forget how big it all is.” You say, and Logan turns his head to look at you. “I only ever see it on screens, or in my head.”

“Is it living up to your expectations?” You smile widely at him,

“Even better.”

You spend the rest of the day there. Lounging in the sun, then retreating to the shade of the trees when you were too warm. Lying in Logan’s arms as the two of you talk, and kiss.

When the first signs of sunset begin to show themselves you suggest heading back, not wanting your peaceful day to be hijacked by a group of bandits waiting in the dark. Logan agrees and you prepare the horses while he gathers your belongings.

“Next time,” he tells you, leaning in to kiss your lips. “I’m taking you stargazing, and I will personally kill whatever bandits and smugglers that try to disrupt us.”

“Who knew you were such a romantic?” You tease, and he tips his hat dramatically.

It’s not long before you’re back in Sweetwater, putting your horses away and heading back to your room at the Silver Dollar. Logan helps you pack your trunk, and the two of you are heading down to the station before you know it. You link your fingers with his, as his arm drapes over your shoulder. Your trunk is in his other hand.

“I don’t want this to end.” You admit, and Logan looks down at your face.

“We can come back whenever you want. You come with me and it’ll be free, and I won’t have to deal with all that waiting a night for you to get here.”

“That was your idea.” You remind him, before adding quietly, “If you’d asked me to drop everything and go with you that night, I would have.”

“You would?” You nod. “I might have to spring some more surprise holidays on you.” You narrow your eyes at him,

“I’m not sure if my boss would approve.” He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m sure we could work something out.”

»»---------------------►

It feels strange to wake up in your bed on a Monday morning, in contrast to waking up in Logan’s arms yesterday morning. Despite this, you settle back into your routine fairly easily as you prepare for work. You pick up your data pad, slipping it into your pocket before heading out.

“Morning darlin.” You frown, locking your front door before turning towards the familiar voice.

“Good morning Mr Delos.” He pouts and you laugh softly, “What?”

“You’re not on the clock yet.”

“No but I am heading to work now.” You reason, before asking in a professional tone, “Is there something you need, sir?”

“Absolutely.” He steps forward, his hands on your hips to press you against the wall. His lips are on yours, and you moan softly, not realising how much you’d missed him during the last few hours without him. He moves down to your neck before stopping. “You haven’t covered them up.” He says, surprise lacing his tone. You laugh quietly with a small shrug,

“I think everyone knows what we did this weekend. What’s the point in hiding it?” His heart soars at the thought of you being proud to show off his claim on you, but you suddenly begin to overthink. “Unless, of course, you want me to? We can still be professional-”

“Darlin, my thoughts are far from professional at the moment.” He interrupts you. You lift a brow with a smile.

“Oh really? Penny for your thoughts?” His smile widens, as his lips move back to your throat. He shrugs lightly,

“Just thinking I might add a few more of these.” He traces his tongue over one of the marks and you shudder.

“If you make too much of a mess of me, people might think you mugged me.” He laughs, a soft breath against your skin as he smirks.

“What happens in Westworld, stays in Westworld.”

“Hopefully not all of it.” You say softly. Logan meets your eyes, his thumb tracing over your cheek tenderly.

“No, not all of it.”

»»---------------------►

Logan Delos Tag List: @all-art-is-quite-useless @nemesis729 @allhailthemightyquattro @fuzzyghosts

[marvelmusing]

Cardigan

Part of the Delos & Austen AU

Pairing: Logan Delos x Fem!Reader

Summary: A pre-relationship encounter, where Logan stops by one evening to visit his favourite writer.

Word Count: 726

My Masterlist

»»---------------------►

Logan knocks briskly against your door, before leaning his shoulder against the frame. He looks down the empty hallway, waiting for you to answer. There’s some quiet shuffling from inside your apartment, then the door swings open and he turns to face you.

“Hey Austen, have you-“ His voice fails him when he sees what you’re wearing. He catches a glimpse of black lace panties, and a matching bra as a large wool cardigan slips off your shoulders. You gape at him, pulling the oversized cardigan around your body.

“Logan!” He grins at your flustered state.

“You got company?”

“No.” He raises a brow at you incredulously as he nods down to what you’re wearing, and you laugh softly. “I don’t.” He can tell you’re not lying, a fact that distracts him even further. Were you wearing that little number today during your meeting with him?

He struggles enough to sit still during your meetings. Now that he knows what you’re hiding underneath all those layers of clothing, he’s going to struggle even more.

“Huh.” He raises his brows, his mouth parted as he traces his tongue over his teeth, his gaze dropping down again. You narrow your eyes at him,

“Is there something you need Mr Delos?” There’s exasperation in your tone, but a small smile tugs at your lips. Logan can certainly think of a few things he needs right now, and you calling him Mr Delos isn’t helping with that at all. A smirk tugs at his lips, as he remains casual. He decides that for once, he won’t tease you - mostly for his sake.

“Sizemore said you have the final draft for the new Pariah narrative?”

“Oh, yeah.” You say, faltering as you go to search for the file but then remember that Logan is standing in your doorway. It’s cute. “Um, come in.” He smiles, shutting the door behind him, as he watches you lost in thought as you attempt to remember where you’d left the file.

He has a cardigan of his own, quite similar to the one you’re wearing. He doesn’t wear it often, only on cold mornings in his own apartment. It’s navy blue, with dark brown buttons, and he’s sure if you were wearing it it would hang around your mid thighs. You’d look adorable in it.

You look over the contents of your living room, then make your way towards the hallway.

“Hang on a sec.” He can’t help but admire your legs as you disappear down the hallway. His mouth goes dry at the thought of running his hands down your legs. Of making you shiver as he parts them to reveal the scrap of lace covering you.

The sounds of you rummaging through papers and drawers breaks him out of his thoughts. The mental whiplash you put him through astounds him at times. One minute he’s thinking of a cozy morning with you one his cardigan. The next minute he wants to bend you over his desk until you’re screaming his name for the whole office to hear.

You reappear with the file in hand, making your way back to him.

“You write in your bedroom?” You sigh, narrowing your eyes at his suggestive tone.

“I write everywhere.” You say with a shrug. His grin softens into a more genuine smile at your love for what you do. You hand him the file and he takes it from you with a small nod.

“Well, have a nice night.” He remarks with a wink, to which your roll your eyes as you follow him to your front door. You shake your head with a fond smile.

“You too, Logan.” You meet his gaze for a moment, lost in the deep brown of his eyes. He gives you a nod, then heads down the hallway, and you close your door.

Leaning against your door, you look down at what you’re wearing, a flood of embarrassment warming your body. You look good, you won’t deny that. Part of you is glad that Logan has seen you like this - in the hope that, even for just a moment, you could have driven him as crazy as he makes you when he wears that ridiculously tight grey suit.

That small rush of satisfaction will help you survive any sort of teasing that he plans to throw your way tomorrow.

[marvelmusing]

Frustration

Part of the Delos & Austen AU

Pairing: Logan Delos x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your co-director at Westworld often annoys the life out of you. Luckily, Logan is able to lend you his ear.

Word Count: 725

My Masterlist

»»---------------------►

Being the co-director of narrative at Westworld is a dream come true for you. It means you can spend your days doing what you love - devoting your time and effort into creating fun, meaningful, and interesting stories.

However, it sometimes feels like a nightmare. Mostly due to your co-director - Lee Sizemore. The two of you often have disagreements regarding your creative differences. Having two directors for narrative was a strategic choice - in an attempt to ensure that stories could have multiple sides and prevent any bias in the department. You can understand the reasoning behind it. What you can’t understand, is why Sizemore has to be so insufferable. Which is how you’re in your current position, ranting to Logan about how annoying your colleague is.

“He’s always bringing the hosts into his office to go over their lines, which is a complete waste of both resources and time.” You say with a frown.

Logan is leaning against his headboard, his hands folded behind his head. Amusement dances in his eyes as he watches you pace back and forth at the end of the bed.

“And he says stupid shit like: ‘do it again but with more passion’ like he’s some Oscar winning director.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Why doesn’t he just say: ‘increase anger by 1%’ like every other employee?”

You raise your brows, looking over at Logan, who attempts to regard you seriously as he mimics your expression.

“I swear he thinks he’s some sort of genius.” You say. “You should of seen his face when his latest character gave their first speech in front of guests. What a smug little bastard.”

Logan can’t hide his grin at your frustration, as you return to your pacing.

“And he accuses my writing of being ‘too self-indulgent’.” You gesture the quotation marks with your fingers dramatically. “Like Hector isn’t the biggest self insert I’ve ever seen.” Your entire face crinkles with the frown that tugs at your brows. “Everybody can see how weirdly defensive he gets when you criticise his storylines.” You insist, and you voice turns almost mocking. “Like, you’re not actually a rugged outlaw that everyone is secretly in love with, Lee.” You say his name like an insult. “You’re a dorky writer just like the rest of us.”

You huff, crossing your arms. For once in his life, Logan is deciding to not share his opinion - mostly because he’s too busy enjoying yours.

“You know the first thing they told me when I got this job? That creativity means jackshit if there’s no research behind it. Which means that my ‘self-indulgence’ has been backed up by focus groups, questionnaires, peer reviews.” You list each of those things with your fingers. “Not just: ‘oh I think we should add some more saloon girls to this storyline because my self insert wants some eye candy because I can’t get any in real life’.” You attempt to impersonate Sizemore’s accent, rather unsuccessfully, which makes Logan laugh.

The sound of his laughter pushes your annoyance away, and a small smile curls at your lips as you feel a little embarrassed at your outburst. You tug your lower lip between your teeth as you cross the room towards him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that.” You say, lying down next to him.

“I don’t mind.” He says with a grin, then he shrugs casually. “It’s actually kinda hot.” You roll your eyes, but a smile creeps over your face nonetheless.

“Is there anything you don’t find hot?” His tongue traces along his teeth as his eyes rake down your body.

“Maybe it’s just you.” You nudge his shoulder playfully.

“Such a charmer.”

“You know it.” He grasps a hold of your waist pulling you closer to him, and he leans over you. “Now how about we turn a shitty day, into a not-so-shitty day?”

“And how do you plan on doing that, Mr Delos?” He groans slightly, swinging one of his legs over yours.

“Well I was reading some work done by a very self-indulgent writer.” He says teasingly, to which you roll your eyes affectionately. “And I was rather inspired. If you’re game?” Your smile widens, matching his dazzling grin. You lean forward, capturing his bottom lip between your teeth lightly, before murmuring against his lips,

“Try me.”

[the-purity-pen]

THE PURITY PEN KINKTOBER 2021

here is my list for what i plan to write for kinktober this year! i’m very excited to share some of what i’ve been writing lately and i truly hope you all enjoy it!

there will be no taglist specifically for this as 99% of these characters are ben barnes characters and I already have a taglist for him and my permanent taglist.

if you do not wish to see these fics, please block the tag #tppkinktober2021 as this is also the tag i’ll be using to share other works as well.

Without further ado, the list under the cut:

Readers in these fics are either AFAB or Fem but mostly will be AFAB with no pronouns used. All Fics will be labeled appropriately.

Face-sitting -  Benjamin Greene

Threesome - Biker!Billy Russo x Biker!Frank Castle

Exhibitionism - Logan Delos

Knife play - Billy Russo

Lap dances - Frank Castle

Food play - Benjamin Greene

Object insertion - The Darkling

Cunnilingus - Billy Russo

Hate/Angry Sex - Logan Delos

Hickey/biting marks - Nick Tortano

Mirror sex - Benjamin Greene

Begging - The Darkling

Edging/Orgasm Denial - Logan Delos

Bath/Shower - Billy Russo

Gun Play - Nick Tortano

Nipple play - The Darkling

Pegging - Billy Russo

Sex Work/Prostitution - Logan Delos

Overstimulation - Billy Russo

Phone sex - Benjamin Greene

Dirty talk - Nick Tortano

Praise kink - Billy Russo

Squirting - Logan Delos

Lactation - Benjamin Greene

Titty fucking - Frank Castle

Latex/leather - The Darkling

Aftercare - Nick Tortano

Teasing - Benjamin Greene

Gender swap - The Darkling

Temperature play - Billy Russo

WILD CARD  - Benjamin Greene

[the-purity-pen]

Scripted Vulnerability: Ch. 2

Pairing: Actor!Logan Delos x Actor!Fem!Reader

Rating: G

Warnings: none for this chapter. logan being logan again.

Words: 1.3K

A/N: here’s the next part! thank you so much for waiting for this chapter! this is so much of a slowburn that i’m already rooting for logan to just get his act together. i hope you enjoy! any and all feedback is welcomed! 🥰

The next time you had to see Logan was on your first day of rehearsal. The sound stage was set up and the green screen behind you would show the ship-like background on the monitors. Even though you had read over the script, knew the plot, and knew that much of it would be done with the love interest at the forefront, you still were not prepared for standing so close to Logan for much of this first scene.

He was dressed in a tightly-fitted t-shirt and denim jeans. He looked far more relaxed than when you had seen him at the table read where he had donned a full suit, which was his usual get-up. He was drinking a coffee and when he spotted you, he flashed you a smile and held up a second coffee cup to you. You furrowed your brows in questioning when he shook his head and moved closer.

“I got you some coffee to start our long day of rehearsal,” he told you as if you hadn’t figured out that’s what his movements meant. You scoffed quietly but took the coffee from him, feeling the immediate warmth spreading from the styrofoam cup. You kept your gaze on him as you tentatively took a sip of the coffee.

An immediate gagging sound left your mouth as you coughed and sputtered the liquid. “What the fuck is this?” you asked him incredulously. The overwhelming flavor of artificial sweetener still lingered on your tongue and you stuck it out, trying to air out the flavor that had you feeling very grossed out.

Logan shrugged. “Must have gotten the coffees mixed up again,” he said as he switched the cup from your hand to his own and handed you the other cup.

“You know what, forget it,” you told him, dismissing the other coffee cup before he could get it into your grasp. Logan just smirked and shrugged.

“More for me then,” he said as he walked away to the chairs but not before winking at you. You don’t think you could have rolled your eyes any further back into your head. He knew exactly what he had done and you hated him for it. He was seemingly trying to get under your skin. And it was working. But you were going to try everything not to let him have that satisfaction in knowing that.

As the pair of you took your seats in the chairs that held your name, you grumbled to yourself as Logan sat right next to you. Either you didn’t stand downwind of him when he was trying to hand you the coffee or he just poured a bunch of cologne over himself before sitting next to you. But the smell was intoxicating and you had to forcibly lock your jaw and clear your throat to keep from leaning over to smell him better.

The director, Sarah, talked with the rest of the crew for a minute before gathering everyone’s attention to make a big speech about making this the best production. She made sure to directly thank you and Logan for being her stars. You humbly waved and gave a simple smile and nod at everyone while Logan wore his smarmy little smirk and his stupid large wave of his arm to everyone.

When the cameras started rolling, you held your script below where the camera could see, just as a reference for you to feed yourself lines when you needed it. You were sitting on a large foam rock. Your costume for this scene, you were told, would be tattered clothing that tastefully covered you up. You were the washed-ashore siren that was lost in her human form.

You ran your lines a few times before Sarah called cut. Logan was the only one applauding your rehearsal performance which made you just roll your eyes. Sarah came over to you. “The next scene is one where I’m gonna need you to lose the book,” she told you firmly yet kindly. “Logan is gonna be coming into view and we’re gonna get some full body shots to set up blocking a bit more and I need the book out of the way,” she explained with a warm smile on her lips.

You nodded in understanding. “No problem,” you told her before giving her your script book and getting down from the rock. Logan approached you and held out a hand to try to help you down. But you purposefully ignored him and jumped down all on your own. “I can handle myself, Delos,” you told him sharply.

His brow raised in interest. You were definitely feisty. He should have remembered you from those years ago but you were different now. Definitely more in your element than you had been and your hair had changed since then. He should have remembered you. But the truth was, he didn’t.

Your name was called as you finished taking a sip of your water. You returned to the set and propped yourself up onto the rock again. You pulled your shirt to adjust it a bit from your movements but you didn’t catch the way Logan watched you from just off to the side. The way your body moved, caught his attention and kept it.

So much so that when Sarah called “action”, Logan almost missed his cue to come onto the set, into the camera’s view. He cleared his throat and sauntered on, looking disheveled and worried. He ran through the bit of the scene where he’s lost and confused until he spots you.

The way his gaze caught yours, made your actual breath stutter. Maybe it was the lighting or the fact that he was just looking out of breath but you suddenly felt a very strong emotion towards him that wasn’t just disgust. He kept staring at you as he moved closer slowly, which was scripted. You knew that this was his acting but the way he just turned into a whole other person had you honestly amazed.

He climbed onto the rock and as he neared you, he reached out for you. His face carried such a true emotion of worry and care that you had to focus harder to actually remember your lines. After some exchanged words, Logan’s hand came to the side of your face to wipe gently at your cheek. You didn’t know if that part was in the script but you found yourself holding your breath as he leaned in slowly.

You watched his eyes close and held your breath for a moment, trying to calm your heart. You were really going to have to kiss Logan Delos and in front of cameras and the crew at that. You found your eyes slowly closing as you let him lean closer.

“CUT!” Sarah’s voice broke through and caused you to jump. But instead of catching yourself on the rock, you slid backward and right off the rock onto the safety mat below. Logan called out your name as you hit and you grunted. 

A few of the crew members rushed over to your side to help you up and to check on you. Sarah joined them not even a moment later. “Are you okay?” she asked, breaking through the others to get to you and hold your arm. You nodded and sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you told her, feeling exhausted and embarrassed all at once. When Logan finally got himself down from the rock and came up to you, you shook your head, waving your hand at him to back off. The last thing you needed after all of that was him snarking some line about falling for him or something.

You made it back to your trailer and sat on the couch with your head in your hands. Were you really going to go through with this movie? With having to be with Logan? With having to kiss him and force every feeling you had for him years ago down? You let out a heavy sigh and pulled your phone from your pocket; you had quickly grabbed it on your way off the set. You decided to send a text to your best friend in hopes she would be able to talk you off the ledge. But instead, Logan’s face showed up on your screen.