#and yet they don't look as rough as he does?

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

MISS YOU — rafe cameron (smut, angst, nsfw)

pairing; ex-boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader summary: years after your breakup, rafe cameron crawls back into your life when he realises that you might have started moving on. a/n: omg this was so long i think i got carried away warnings: smut 18+, a LOT of angst, mdni, fingering, oral (f receiving), name calling, unprotected sex.

He does not knock.

Rafe Cameron barges into your dimly lit apartment instead of knocking the door and allowing you to let him in. He walks right past you, ignoring the frown on your face, and collapses down on your couch.

His shoulders are relaxed, arms stretched out along the back of the couch as he settles in and looks around your apartment.

His blue eyes are dart everywhere, but they don’t meet yours. His veiny hands are tapping away on his thighs—the same hands that used to envelope yours perfectly.

His blonde hair is longer than it was when you two were together—they're curling over his forehead. The length is almost too long, it makes him look shaggy, and yet it suits him nevertheless.

Your fists clench. Suddenly, the warmth of your home has vanished because of his presence.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" His voice is raspy and rough, almost as if he had just woken up, but you can tell from his red eyes and the dark circles underneath that he hasn't slept a wink.

"What do you want, Rafe?"

He finally turns his gaze to you, and the sight makes your knees go weak. You want to sit down next to him and bury your head into his chest, but you know that can't happen anymore.

He stands up, making you take a step back. You don't miss the hurt look in his eyes, but he hides it quickly and walks towards you.

The light coming out of the television playing in the background illuminates Rafe's face, his jawline sharp and his lips pulled in a soft frown.

He walks past you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"What the hell?" You murmur, following him as he walks towards the kitchen.

He halts to a stop and you stand behind him, feeling like a mouse in his tall presence. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He rolls his eyes and turns around to face you. His eyes stare into yours, resulting in the formation of a lump in your throat as your eyes meet for the first time in years.

“Who is he?” Rafe asks bitterly, his eyes not leaving your face. “The guy you were with yesterday at the Golf Club. Even better, where is he?"

Yesterday, your date made a reservation at the Golf Club for your first date, and the smug part of you had wished the Rafe saw the two of you together—which he apparently did.

You had a good time with the boy. He even dropped you off to your house afterwards. He was sweet, polite and soft-spoken. The complete opposite of your ex-boyfriend.

"Rafe, leave."

He scoffs, running his tongue along his inner-cheek. His eyes still burn into yours.

He brings a cold finger to your face and the metal of his ring faintly touches your cheek. You suck in a deep breath as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

You look away from him, unable to stand the intensity of his eyes. You know what he wants, and you won't allow yourself to give in to him.

Almost turning away, you feel him grab your face and force you to look at him. He's staring down at you in a way that makes your heart dip.

You can't believe you used to know this man, can't believe you shared the same bed with him and loved him so unconditionally.

His eyes drop down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. "Kiss me."

It's your turn to scoff. You try to pry his hand off your face, but he doesn't bulge. He simply leans his face closer to yours, the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes enveloping your nose.

"Don't tell me that you don't miss it," his thumb moves against your cheek. "I've thought about you every night since the day we broke up. You know, you're the only thing that stays on my mind."

"Rafe—"

"No," his jaw is clenched. "Let me finish, alright? I-I can't eat, I can't sleep. I'm fucking useless without you. I need you."

You push his chest away from you. "And whose fault is that, huh?"

"Please," his voice cracks. "Baby, please."

"Oh my god, just-just stop this, okay? Rafe, you didn't even remember our anniversary! The whole day you were getting high with B-"

"I don't care!" He shouts, interrupting you. "I don't care, okay? I just need you, and you need me too! Tell me you don't miss me and I'll leave."

You sigh, rubbing your face. You want to yell at him, but his presence and words make you weak.

He knows that he has an effect on you. He knows how easily he can manipulate you and bend you to his will.

But you gather yourself. You shake your head and seethe through your teeth, "Go fuck yourself, Rafe. Get out, right now. Or I swear to god, I will call the police."

He chuckles lowly. "And tell them what, baby? That Rafe Cameron came into your house and refused to leave? Please, call the police. It'll just make things easier."

"Get. Out." You point towards the door. "Go back to her, Rafe. The bimbo who's always on your arm."

He groans, his voice low and guttural. "She's not you, okay? She doesn't fucking get me. Only you do."

"You're a piece of shit."

He takes a step closer to you, if that was even possible.

"I'm a piece of shit? Do you hear yourself?" He's towering over you. His hands are gripping your arms.

You push his chest again and step back, only to bump into the wall behind.

He, too, takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. He laughs and looks down at his feet. "Fine. You wanna play this game, huh?"

He starts walking towards you, and suddenly your feet are glued to the floor.

You feel his warmth against your body before his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies are pressed against each other's.

You feel him run a finger down the length of your jaw.

You try to fight back the urge to moan at his touch. You want to push him away, but his touch makes you melt. It's been too long. Too long since he's been this close.

"Fuck you." You say, and your shaky voice doesn't go unnoticed by him. "And let go of me."

He ignores you.

He presses his forehead against yours, and your breath hitches in your throat.

You can't stop thinking about how much you want his lips on yours. How much you want him to not listen to your complaints and just fucking kiss you.

His breath hits your lips as his eyes search your face. "Tell me you don't miss me. Tell me you don't miss this," He whispers, his right-hand snaking up your body until it's resting right below your breast.

"I'll leave right now," he says, "and never come back. We can go our separate ways and live the rest of our lives separately. And then, ten years from now, you'll be at a children’s park and you'll see me and think, 'Wow. Rafe Cameron is hot.'"

"I-"

"Or," he pauses, his hand sliding down to your ass. "You can just stop being in denial and admit that you need me just as much as I need you."

His grip on you is tight, and his blue eyes are boring into yours. His breathing has quickened, and so has yours.

His face is mere centimetres away from yours at this point, and his eyes are digging holes in you. You feel his erection against your thigh, and the knowledge that he's aroused makes your brain go haywire.

"Say you fucking want me. I'm yours, alright? Just fucking say it." He's so close to you that you can taste his breathe.

You're at war with yourself. A part of you is screaming to kick him out, but the other part wants him to stay.

His grip on you tightens.

"I hate you." You murmur.

And then his lips are on yours.

The kiss isn’t soft and loving. It's harsh and needy, but it feels so right.

All protests, all thoughts and all the mixed feelings die down when he shifts his hand to your throat and squeezes it. With his other hand, he pulls up your thigh to his waist.

Your lips move together sloppily, his tongue darting into your mouth.

You feel him lift you up and walk over to your bedroom, his grip on you never loosening.

Your arms wrap around his neck, his tongue moves against yours, and all the feelings make you moan against his lips.

He breaks the kiss and pushes the door open with his foot, the dim light in the room allowing you to see the outline of his face.

He's breathing heavily. His eyes are dark with lust and his pupils are dilated.

You don't know what's gotten into him. Maybe the years apart have driven him crazy. But all that doesn't matter because right now he's kissing you like it's the end of the world, and you're letting him.

Your lips collide together again, and this time, it's different. It's more passionate and slow, and he kisses you in a way no one has ever kissed you before.

He lays you down on the bed and crawls on top of you.

You expect him to take control and dominate, but instead, he rests his head against the crook of your neck, his breathing hot on your skin.

"I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispers as he kisses the side of your neck.

You're speechless. Your brain is telling you to shove him off, but your heart and body are telling you something else.

The lump in your throat has returned, and your eyes are starting to burn.

But before you can say anything in response, he rushes back to your lips, and you lose yourself in him.

His lips move hungrily against yours. You can taste the saltiness of his tears, and the thought of Rafe Cameron crying makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

His hips are pressed firmly against yours, his erection digging into your inner thigh.

The kiss is passionate, but there's a hint of possessiveness in the way he grips the side of your face.

His hand trails down your body, his fingertips roughly pushing against the fabric of your shirt making you whimper.

"I missed you so much, baby." He whispers.

Then he's sucking your lips, nibbling, and kissing. He's all over you.

Your hands tug at the hem of his shirt, and he lifts himself off of you, straddling you as he helps you pull his shirt off.

He's still the same; toned, sculpted, and ripped. You can't help but stare.

You run your fingers down his chest, and your eyes shut.

He's beautiful, and you've missed him so much.

He starts trailing kisses down your neck, sucking and leaving dark marks.

You moan breathily when he sucks on the sweet spot beneath your ear.

You were supposed to stand your ground, but fuck, you need him. You need him the same way you did when he first made love to you.

"Rafe," your voice comes out breathy, "I want you."

His hand is on your stomach, moving upward. He pulls his head back, and you see the desperation in his eyes.

"Fuck, say it again," he kisses the tip of your nose. "Tell me that you're mine."

"I'm yours." You shakily murmur. "Only yours."

He only groans in response. His lips capture yours again, making a gasp come out of your mouth—which he greedily swallows.

A piteous whimper slips past your lips when you feel your wetness coating your panties and rubbing against Rafe's pants.

But he still doesn't do anything to relieve the ache between your thighs. You buck your hips discreetly to grind against his covered dick, but he simply slaps your thigh, making you yelp.

He positions himself in between your legs, both of your parts still clothed; the fabric against your wet skin making you whimper.

You moan, grasping his bicep when his fingers trace along your underwear teasingly.

"Does he make you this wet?" He asks before pulling your underwear off and running his fingers past your exposed clit.

Your brain is so fucked up that silence is your only answer.

“Answer me or I swear to fucking God I'll leave you like this,” he says, slapping your thigh and making you gasp.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you reply annoyedly, "Just fucking-"

Suddenly, all heat disappears from above you. Your eyes snap open. The sight of Rafe clenching his jaw and pulling himself away from you makes you hurriedly reach out for him.

You stutter, “Wait-wait, wait, Rafe, baby, please.”

You tug at his arm, pulling him back down on top of you.

"I need you. Please. Please just fuck me."

"You're so pathetic." He chuckles, clicking his tongue before his hands are taking his shirt off, followed by your shirt being thrown somewhere in the room.

He diverts his attention to your tits, trailing wet kisses on each of them. You let out a satisfactory sigh as he continues wrapping and unwrapping his lips around your nipples.

He goes further down and presses kisses along your stomach.

Before you can react, he buries his face between your thighs. Your back arches, a hand on his soft hair as the other grips the pillow next to you, “Oh, fuck."

He practically devours you, looking up every two seconds to meet your blown eyes. He pushes your legs up, making them almost touch your shoulders. You gasp, tightening your grip on his hair as he continues to eat you out.

Your hands are everywhere, trying to hold anything that can make the storm in your stomach calmer.

Rafe slowly releases his tight grip on your legs before sliding his fingers into you. Your eyes squeeze shut.

Your hips slightly buck upwards, but Rafe shoves you down with his free hand.

His fingers are thrusting into you at a brutal pace, his tongue doing wonders right along them.

He detaches his lips off your pussy, but his fingers are still in you.

"Does he-does he touch you as good as I do? Does he make you as wet as I do?" Rafe asks as he leans over you. The hand that had shoved you down is now wrapped around your throat as he presses, making you choke. "No, he fucking doesn't. Only I make you feel this good, yeah?"

He doesn't expect you to say something because he knows that he's saying the truth. He’s the only person who can turn you into a mess.

"Oh my god, Rafe, right there." You moan as he curls his fingers deeper into you.

"Answer me, does he fuck you up as good as I do?"

You roll your eyes at the question he's asking for the nth time now, "Yeah, yeah he does." You reply absent-mindedly.

"What the fuck?" He exclaims, immediately pulling his fingers out of you. He pushes his fingers into your mouth, so deep that it makes you gag.

"You know what, I'll fucking treat you like a whore." He says, his fingers still deep in your mouth. "I thought I'd be nice to you after all these years, but you always have to be a bitch, don't you?"

With one hand, he clumsily pulls off his pants and underwear.

You moan as you feel him drag the tip of his cock over your pussy. He teasingly does so for a few more seconds before meeting your eyes and smirking at you.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you." He mumbles. "Show your boyfriend the bruises I give you, alright?"

And when he pushes his dick in, he makes sure to look down at how your walls envelope him perfectly even after all these years.

"Oh, holy fucking shit." You gasp when his hips thrust forward and go deeper into you.

Rafe drops his head on your shoulder as he sets a pace. "I fucking missed this. I missed fucking you- oh shit." He breathes into your shoulder.

Your eyes roll back into your head, your body budding with the pleasure his thrusts give you.

"Right there." You breathe.

"You never learn, do you?" He says. Swiftly, Rafe pulls out of you and flips you over so that you're on your stomach. "You're a whore. But only mine, baby."

Then he harshly thrusts back into you, making a pathetic moan leave your lips. His hands grip your waist as he pounds into you.

He wraps his arms around your stomach and pulls you flush into his sweaty chest, tipping your head up to pull you into a messy kiss. Your teeth and tongues clash uncomfortably, but neither of you give a fuck.

His lips detach from yours, and he buries his forehead into the back of your neck.

"You're squeezing me the fuck out," He moans out.

The new position makes you moan, your hands shifting from being vacant to grabbing your tits as he pushes himself deeper and deeper into you.

The sight of you touching yourself results in Rafe letting out a loud groan. His hand leaves your hair and slides down the front of your body to rub your clit.

The new fervour makes your legs shudder, "Fuck, I'm close." You mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He nods frantically—having waited for this moment for years now.

"Cum for me, yeah. Cum all over me, baby. Need you." Rafe breathes out, thrusting harder into you.

In response, your back arches with a high. A loud moan escaping your lips and white dots blurring your vision as you release all over him.

Rafe fucks you through your orgasm—chasing his own with wild thrusts. “Oh, fuck, fuck."

You can feel his high approaching as he grips you tighter. He thrusts into you harshly, desperate for his release.

He throws his head back with a loud groan and a long string of curses when his hips falter and he's covering your insides with his cum.

The two of you are a gasping mess when you lay down on the bed.

You both stay there for moment, breathing in each other's scent. He traces your body, as if to memorise every inch.

When Rafe pulls away from you, it's like he's pulling your heart out too.

Because you know that this was just another night for him.

When Rafe cleans you up and covers you up with a blanket, he fails to cover the ache of your heart.

Because you know that the bed he'll be returning to won't be yours; but the other woman's.

[rosenclaws]

obsessed with your ex || Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: In his world you were his wife and he loved you and then you died. In this world you're his girlfriend and he loves you. At least you think he does. Still you can't help the voice in the back of your head telling you that you're nothing but a sad replacement.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY. insecure + jealous!reader, a very very toxic mindset, the reader's mind is very mean to her, reader is a mutant that can make objects disappear, angst, happy ending, rough sex, riding, french kissing, oral (f!receiving), a slight breakdown, soft sex, missionary, Logan is kinda a softie, cockwarming, fingering.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: Okay so it's here!! I need to make this clear that the readers mindset is NOT healthy and that relationships need good communication. That being said here's my fic idea that I've been thinking about for a bit. I love Olivia Rodrigo sm (I even saw her in concert!!) and this song was just begging to be written into a fic. Anyways I really hope you like it and that it's not too insane lmao. Also i made the graphic but i kinda hate it but i dont wanna change it so here we are I know it's ugly but its FINE

How long have you been here? Staring. Observing every little thing about you. Your nose, your eyes, your lips, your hair, your chin. The way your arms fall by your sides. Every. Little. Detail.

Did she have the same colored eyes? Did she talk like you? Was she smart? Was she powerful? Did he look at her the same way? Did he fuck her like he fucks you?

You clench your fists as you stare angrily at the mirror. He loves you. He says he loves you and yet it feels like you can never compare to her. She was the love of his life. She was an X-Men. She died. She was you. You're his dead fucking wife in his universe while you were nothing to the Logan in this one. 

He looked at you like a kicked puppy that first day you met. A lost little pet that had been searching for its owner. Dragged through hell and back just to get to you. It was easy to fall for him. Handsome, a little rough around the edges. You hadn’t even been dating for that long but it didn’t matter right? He worshiped you. He loved you. He promised he loved you.

But sometimes in the back of your head you wonder if when he's kissing you, does he imagine her? Does he close his eyes while he's pounding into you and imagine it's her? How could you ever compete? She was perfect, she was kind, she was everything to him. Spiraling deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of doubt and envy. There's a heavy pounding on the door but you choose to ignore it. Too wrapped up in your twisted mind to care. 

"Sweetheart, let me in." Logan's gruff voice was slightly muffled by the door. 

You clench your jaw as you finally tear your eyes away from the mirror. You slam open the door taking Logan by surprise. His eyes scan yours for injury, a worried look in his face as he steps into the bathroom. 

"I got worried, you were in here a long time." His arms wrap around your waist. 

He's looking at you with pity. At least that's what your brain tells you. Was he worried that you were hurt because he loves you or because he was thinking of her death again? You know he still dreams of her. He can hide it when he's awake but the nightmares don't lie. It hurts so bad. Love me. Love me. You're jealous you know. She's dead, she's gone. So why can't he love you. You push him off and storm out the bathroom. Nothing makes sense anymore in your head. 

"What the fuck?" Logan follows you and you feel yourself tensing up. 

It's a miracle your powers haven't started to go haywire yet. So many different emotions swirl around in your head until it mixes together to form one single feeling.

Need.

You grab Logan's shirt and pull him into you. Smashing your lips onto his with a hunger that you've never felt before. Logan hisses as you bite his bottom lip harshly but you don't give him time to say anything as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans as he starts to take some control back. Hands slipping up your shirt and ripping to shreds with ease.

You pull back from his lips, chest heaving for air as you paw at his shirt. Silently demanding he take it off which he happily does. Your lips are back onto his in an instant. He slowly walks you back until you fall onto the bed. You fall onto the bed and lick your lips. The bugle in his pants is evident as you flick your hand and the belt disappears. 

"I liked that belt." You pay no mind to his comment as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 

"Easy there sweetheart," Logan pushes you back gently and crawls on top of you. Logan kisses down your chest, teasing each nipple with his tongue. 

"Let me take my time." He purrs.

His hands touch and squeeze your breasts roughly making you whine. You watch his arms move, god he's so hot. He's close to making you forget. He kisses down, down, all the way down. He sneaks out the tip of his claws to pop open the button of your pants and he yanks them down until they're all the way off.

"There she is, my perfect girl." His girl. That's right your his girl. No one else's.

Logan pulls your panties to the side as he situates himself between your legs. He stuffs his face without shame, licking hungrily and practically moaning at the taste. You arch your back as Logan devours you. Watching his back muscles move are mesmerizing. He's yours. He loves you. He promises he does.

You can't stop the thoughts that begin to invade you. Overwhelmed by pleasure from Logan and pain from the horrible ideas that pop into your head. Did he do this with her too? Did he worship her? Do you taste like her? Is that why he can't get enough? 

"Fuck!" You hiss as you sit up and tell Logan to stop. He does immediately, wondering what the hell is going on. 

"Can't fucking wait." You scratch down his chest with your nails. He groans and tries to crawl on top of you but you shake your head. 

"I'm going to ride you until you can't come anymore." You growl.

You bite his shoulder harshly making him hiss. It heals right up much to your dismay. How badly you wish you could mark him. You make his boxers disappear but before he can make a smart comment you sink down on him all the way. You whimper as you start to bounce on his cock. Loving how much he fills you.

You need to be fucked stupid. You're desperate for Logan to fuck every bad thought out of your head. To promise that he loves you so that you can believe him. You want to believe him. Please, you have to believe him. 

"Sweetheart." Logan's breath is labored as you relentlessly fuck yourself on his cock. You feel so damn good but fuck he can tell something is on your mind. 

"What do you need, let me help you." He sits up on his hands, placing one on your back as he tries to get you to slow down. His words make you want to scream. What do you need? You look at him and the only thing your rotten brain can tell you is that he is thinking of her. 

"I need you to fucking love me!" You yell.

The dam of built up feelings breaks down as tears pour out of your eyes. Ugly, horrible sobs that make your body shake. Logan watches with horror in his eyes as he stills your hips, using his strength to lift you off of him as you continue to cry. 

"I do love you." He says softly but you shake your head. 

"No!" You shout. You pound your fist against Logan's chest over and over again but he barely moves. 

"You love her! I know you do." Logan's heart breaks at the sound of your sobs. 

"I'm not your dead fucking wife Logan!" You should regret the words coming out of your mouth but you can't stop them. 

"You look at me and you see her. Like I'm just some fucking placeholder!" You let out an anguished scream as Logan captures your wrists in his hands. You know the stories. She was a hero, she was perfect in every single way. 

"How can I compete with, with her?" You say completely defeated.

Your head falls against his chest. There's a sense of relief that washes over you. Thoughts that have plagued you for months are finally out in the open. Yet the fear of what comes next overtakes any other feeling.

"Look at me." Logan tilts your head up but you push his hand away. 

"Sweetheart." He sighs and lets go of your face.

Logan's never been good at this. Talking. Being vulnerable. Then he lost everything and he hardened even more and he just. This was a new chance at life and even though it's hard he can't lose it all again. 

"I know you're not her. Of course I do." Logan presses his forehead against yours, trying to get you to look at him. 

"You loved her..." You croak out. 

"I did love her. She was my wife. But I love you too. In a different way." He's a different man. Having gone through tremendous loss. It shaped him into who he is now. 

"You're different people. Your powers act differently, you talk differently, you feel different. You are not a replacement." He says firmly. 

When you finally look at him he feels this horrible pit in his stomach. He wipes away your tears but doesn't make any other move. It's not the right time.

"Would you have even given me a second thought? If I didn't look like her?" You ask, that question has haunted you for a while now but you never asked, too afraid of the answer. Logan is silent, unsure of how to answer. 

"When I first saw you it was like a punch in the face." He starts. "For a moment I was 20 years in the past. Then I snapped out of it. You look like her, yes but you’re not her.” He gently traces a small scar on your jaw that you got when you were a child. 

“I’m not the same as your Logan right? He was a leader, a hero and I was an angry drunk murderer.” 

“I’m not gonna start listing all your fucking differences sweetheart, but I swear on my life that I love you for you.” He pulls you into a tight hug as you start to cry again. You cling onto him as tight as you can. The bad thoughts don’t just stop, even if you want them to but Logans whispering sweet words in your ear. Pushing out every bad thought for now.

“Logan,” You take a deep breath, letting Logan invade all your senses. Tobacco and whiskey. 

“I need you.” He’s hesitant, not sure if it’s the right time.

“Please, I just need you.”

“Okay sweetheart, you have me.” He slowly rolls you over and lays you on your back.

He captures your lips into a kiss. His hips rolling slowly making you moan softly. His lips drift from your lips to the corner of your mouth to your cheek, trailing down. Each one so gentle, so full of love.

“You have this spot, righttt here.” Logan nibbles on your neck and you gasp when bites right at this spot that drives you wild. You melt into the mattress as he kisses over it.

“Always makes you relax.” He crawls lower, kissing down your body. He sits up on his knees and grabs a pillow to place under your back.

“I know you like to be slightly elevated because it means I can go just a little deeper.” He purrs as he takes his cock in his hands and gently rubs the tip of it along your folds. He slides two fingers into your cunt slowly.

“Know that my fingers drive you absolutely wild, that you need me to go slow to start.” You nod absentmindedly.

You never realized he picked up on all these things. His fingers start to slide in smoother, your cunt getting wetter for him. He leans down and takes a deep breath, groaning at the scent. He slips them out and licks them clean.

“Relax sweetheart,” He spreads your thighs and slips in all the way. Going slow but unrelenting, stretching you just how you like.

“So impatient, you never let me take it easy on you right? Just wanna be full all the time.” He leans down on his elbows as he rolls his hips nice and slow.

There will be no rough sex this time, this is about love. To show you that he truly does love you for you.

��Look at me,” He tilts your head so that your eyes meet. He smiles at the desperate look on your face.

“You can pretend it makes you all embarrassed, but I know you like eye contact.” He hums as he angles his hips so that he hits that perfect spot.

You jolt as pleasure rocks through your whole body but he keeps you under him. He’s slowly and methodically tearing you apart. Every touch, every word out of his mouth just makes it better. He knows. Of course he does.

“I love you Logan.” Your hands cup his face as you stare into his hazel eyes.

This time not filled with lust, but with a true deep love. He looks at you like you’re everything.

“I love you too.” He kisses you as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He smirks as he feels you start to squirm under him. You could never help it when you were close.

“Come on sweetheart, just let go.” He whispers in your ear.

His deep voice paired with the unrelenting feeling of his cock is all it takes. He holds you in his firm arms as a warm and wonderful tingling sensation runs through your whole body. A blissful smile on your face as you tilt your head back.

You feel your whole body relax as your mind calms. Logan tries to hide his growls as he fucks into you a little faster, until he’s coming hard and deep inside of you. He sighs in contentment as he stays inside of you. He taps your cheek lightly and you look up at him.

“I love you. No one else. Just you.” He moves to pull out but you whine. You need to be close to him right now. He chuckles as he slowly moves to your side. Spooning you tightly with his cock still deep inside of you.

“Can we talk?” You ask shyly.

“About what?” Logan grunts as he pulls you as close as he can get you.

“Anything?” He’s not much of a talker so he asks the questions instead.

How did you discover your powers? How did you meet wade? Just anything and everything and you tell him.

You talk for who knows how long. Staying wrapped in each other's arms. It helps, it really does. Logan listens, he really does listen. He wants to get to know you. He loves you. You rest your head on his chest, tracing shapes into his palm as you talk.

For the first time in a while your mind seems to settle. Ignoring any thought that may try and ruin your mood. It’s just you and him right now. There’s no looming figure of your alternate selves, not anymore.

Just you and Logan. Forever.

[mattsfootcramp]

'Birthday Sex'-M.S

summary: You and the triplets throw a party for their birthday. Matt got a little tipsy...

warnings: FILTHY!! hair pulling, doggy, multiple orgasms, dom! matt, degradation, oral fixations, matt the munch, fingerings, spanking, slapping, blow jobs, use of safe words, smut. plan smut

a/n: I'm just gonna go with the flow on this

she sat on one of the couches as people were buzzing in the air. music was playing in the background. the smell of sweat lingered in the air.

she was wearing a black and silver sequence dress. one of her boyfriend's favorites out of all her dresses.

it was short and strapless and sexy. she stands up and walks toward the kitchen, where she finds Matt drinking out of a red solo cup.

"Hey, birthday boy. Do you feel it yet?" She asks

"What? the alcohol?" He says, confused

"Yeah.." She answers

"The best iv ever felt." He takes her hand and wraps his other around her waist.

he puts the hand he is holding on her thigh and rubs it gently. he bends down to her ear level.

"How about.. we just take a few steps into my room. How does that sound?" He whispers in her ear. causing shivers to go down her spine from his lustful words

she quickly nods and makes her way to Matt's room. a few minutes later, Matt gets in. be immediately goes to kiss her.

"god y/n... your so fucking perfect...I love you so much" He praises in between kisses

she could taste the alcohol on his lips. but she didn't care she wanted this so bad

Matt's tongue makes its way into her mouth. making their guys' tongues fight for dominance. ultimately, Matt won.

Matt puts his right hand onto the dress near the breast line and pulls it down so her boobs hang out for the air. She hisses as the cold air hits her already hard nipples.

"look at how fucking beautiful you are" He attaches his mouth to her left tit and flicks her right nipple with his hand.

"look at how fucking beautiful you are" He attaches his mouth to her left tit and flicks her right nipple with his hand.she whimpers slightly.

Matt pulls away takes his shirt off places his hands on her shoulders and pushes her down to her kneesshe unbuckles his restricting belt. his cock rock hard. Once she gets his pants off she jerks him off slightly. matt hissing slightly

"oh fuck.. put your mouth on it. be a little slut for me" He puts his hands on the back of her head and thrusts into her mouth

"oh- my god" He picks up the pace. she was gagging softly

she squirms slightly to catch air. he stops thrusting. resting his cock in her mouth. he slaps her across the cheek

"stop fucking moving bitch. You gonna take it like the good girl you are" He roughly sayshe continues his thrusts.

she feels him twitching in her mouth signaling that his close.

"god this mouth- oh fuck- it's all mine...I'm c-cumming" she cums and she swallows

"on the bed ass up face down" He says roughly as he takes his still hard cock out of her mouthshe gets on the bed and puts her face in the pillow

"should I eat you out from behind" making her whine

"it was a joke" He says slapping her ass

He gets behind her and teases her entrance before slamming into her not giving her enough time to adjust to his length and width

"OH fuck matt" his thrusts were fast and rough. He slaps her ass as his hip recole off of it.

"all mine baby.. fuck your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock" he grunts outHe pulls her hair up making her head go up and out of the pillow

"moan louder slut. no one can fucking hear you" making y/n make a pronographic moan matt keeps railing into her

"god fuck... your pussy is sucking me in. your such a little cum slut."

"m-matt. so c-lose" She warns him

"yeah? then cum for me. make a mess like the slut you are

"she releases her cum. her cum floats down his dick making a white ring around the basematt keeps thrusting into her like there no tomorrow

"m-att I can't im to sensitive" She sobs out

"and I don't care. your gonna take it like a little bitch" he pushes her head into the bed more

"oh.. fuck yeah baby take it." he grunts out

"I can't" she sobs out

"yes you can. take it like a little slut" he retorts.his thrusts get faster and harder

"RED RED RED" she screams their safe wordmatt stopped everything he was doing and pulled out of her gently and craddeld her.

"hey I'm so sorry.. come here" his face softens and lays next to her

"it's okay. It just hurt.." She whips a tear

"I'm so sorry.. come here. let's cuddle"

a/n: this sat in my fucking drafts forever so I finished it up and bro the ending sucks ass but oh well

Taglist: @iluvjakeyy @spicybabysworld @monroesturnns @sturniolo-fann @bernardsbendystraws @hystria-things

[belovedstill]

svsss 10th anniversary snippets ◀ [ 2/7 ] ▶

If there was one thing the original goods could do well, it was painting.

He was, of course, also well-versed in subterfuge, angry hatred, and attracting 'scheming bastard!' flags left and right. And in making the Sect Leader look like a kicked dog. And in raising everybody's blood pressure. And in avoiding any shred of human kindness. And in—

Anyway. He was good in many things that currently don't serve Shen Qingqiu well, but at least his muscles remembering the movements and amount of pressure to put on a paintbrush for quality paintwork is quite neat!

In his past life, Shen Yuan couldn't draw for shit. His only genuine attempt at an illustration for his then-5-year-old sister's favourite fairy tale was met with frightened sobbing and countless nights spent sharing his bed with her whenever she woke up from yet another nightmare induced by his terrible scribbles. (In his defense, the monster terrorising the town was the coolest thing in that story.)

Having his disciples ohh and ahh at the simple scrolls he paints is quite the difference from terrified tears. If you ask him, he quite enjoys it! The best thing about being able to draw well, though, is getting to finally draw his own fanart—

"What's Shizun painting?"

—away from where anybody can see!

He very gracefully slams his hand over the scroll, completely intentionally smudging the dash of diluted red ink he's just applied to the smiling lips of the pained Luo Binghe as his husband looks over his shoulder. He hasn't even heard him come in!

"Is that...?"

"No," Shen Qingqiu says immediately and for a good measure flips the page over. The small bowl with red ink topples over and spills.

Binghe's breath hitches next to his ear.

Despite being the Peak Lord of the Qing Jing Peak, or maybe exactly because of it, Shen Qingqiu has always been aware that scroll paper is a finite resource and shouldn't be wasted. That's why when he draws in private he uses up every blank spot. The other side of the painting is filled with countless sketches of Luo Binghe in various poses and states of undress. Sleeping. Cooking. Fighting. Commanding. With a laugh on his lips, or tears in his eyes, or suggestive tension rising in the arch of his eyebrows.

"Shizun..."

Shen Qingqiu slowly reaches for his fan, unfolds it, and presses his entire face against it.

Binghe lays his gentle hands on Shen Qingqiu's tense shoulders and presses his forehead against his temple.

"Is this how Husband sees me?"

Any answer would be damning! No, this husband does not see Luo Binghe, the man above all men, as a mess of rough, imperfect, rushed lines! Yes, he does look close enough to commit every minor detail to memory! Anybody would!

For some reason, that final thought settles heavily in his stomach. He turns his head slightly, so his forehead rests against Binghe's.

"Mn."

"Does he, really?" There's a teasing edge in Luo Binghe's voice and Shen Qingqiu knows, even with his eyes closed, that the look on his face must be truly ungodly. "Husband should look whenever he likes."

"...Mn."

"He should open his eyes and look now, too."

Not a chance! Shen Qingqiu does the only thing that ever truly distracts the tempting husband of his: he leans in and steals his lips in a kiss, and holds them captive until they yield in sweet surprised surrender.

The scroll paper gets torn, the fan forgotten aside, and both of them end up with red-ink fingerprints all over their skin.

[doukeshi-kun]

i have some dad!kolya thoughts for u!

he always has his baby lying on his bare chest whenever he watches tv or takes a nap.

he always plays a bit rough with his kids, like play-fighting or literally throwing them in the air to make them laugh (and mama always nearly gets a heart attack).

throws tea parties with his daufhter(s) for their dolls and plushies and nearly has even more fun than she does, he doesn’t just pretend to like it, he really does and is having the time of his life.

when the kids sleep in their parents’ bed, they’re all over him, but he’s such a deep sleeper that he doesn’t mind it (even if they kick him in their sleep).

happily carries his kids in a carrier or sling on hikes or walks. always smooching them. let’s his daughter dress him up and do his hair. zero fragile masculinity to be found.

(lil suggestive) he’s a hot dad fr. when he’s taking his kids to the playground, there’s usually several single moms hitting on him.

snores.

these are all so cute. very very cute and i'm gonna reply one by one

i like to imagine that when dad!nikolai has a baby on his chest, he's gonna pat them, just making sure they're comfy and stay asleep. imagine he's also napping while the tv is on and when mama wants to change the tv, he's like "i'm watching." like any other dads do lol

evie and i have similar discussion about this where he'd play rough with his kids and they actually enjoy it. like, he'd toss them to the pool and mama woukd be worried by how he's tossing the kids and yet the kids would come back to him to get tossed again. karol would definitely do that

tea parties with his daughter is like his favourite activity. he's a girl dad through and through. i think he also takes it a little too seriously as if he is the princess

i don't think he minds about the kids being in his bed but i feel like there will also come a time where he has to carry them back to their rooms lol. bed is the only place he can be a baby to mama ;]

nikolai doesn't have fragile masculinity and i stand by that ( • ̀ω•́ )✧ in fact, he would encourage his daughter to play dress up with him. also, when in love, this man is a simp so he certainly wouldn't let mama do a lot of labour

he is a hot dad fosho. he gets the attention of single mothers but he's loyal to the one and only—but, maybe it's a little different if he's a single dad himself. he's for sure wants to look hot to get the attention of someone else

[moongothic]

...I... I do not know what on earth compelled me to make this nor why, but I will not be taking criticism at this time

[spnintheyearofourlord]

Okay Dean “You know I am not much for prayin’ ‘cause in my book it’s the same as beggin’” and “I prayed to you, Cas, every night” Winchester, I see you.

[lovegasmic]

CAUGHT CHEATING ?

your boyfriend found you texting your ex after a fight, does that even count as cheating ?!

( request )  ──── Toji, Sukuna, Satoru, Suguru x f!reader. mdni. curseless au , possessive behavior but you talk / fight back , they don't know each other . didnt add Kento or Choso bc they would just sit down and talk....... or drop your ass.

★ join the taglist.

TOJI ! : rough forced oral but you actually like it

for the nth time you roll your eyes, almost now aching from how many times your boyfriend has forced you to, “i told you i am not cheating” the tap of your foot is rhythmical and a constant presence in the room filled with thick anger, “and give me my damn phone”

“not happening, doll, you’re such a little liar” Toji mutters with a thick voice, a hand snaking to cup your cheeks and squish them together roughly, the other maintaining your phone up high so he could continue to check the messages with your ex. he’s mad and you know it, that usual smirk now replaced by a scowl and arm veins popping.

a slight twitch is visible on his brow, hands tightening around your mouth so you pout deepens, Toji loves how you look right now, grumpy and with a stupidly cute pout he wants to kiss, but your pretty face won’t make him forget about all your bullshit.

“get on your knees” is what he barks instead, thumb scrolling through your phone with a slight grind of his teeth, “didn’t you hear me?”

“m’ not goin’ t— hmph!”

your knees roughly hit the floor with a thud, from where Toji pushed on your shoulders and is currently tossing your phone on your feet, you’re able to see the tenting erection on his boxers, “why are you ha—”

“suck it”

“huh?! you’re fuckin’ insane if you think i’m—” sickling sweet, his hand cups your jaw, rummaging under the fabric of his boxers to fetch his cock and slide the tip past your lips, “ungh, fucker”

cheeks hollowed by the way you suck on your boyfriend’s cockhead, you were so mad, he was so mad, but the way your pussy throbbed was very much present, deciding to simply ignore your brain and focus on your needs.

“you love this cock too much to cheat on me” Toji smirks from above, barely watching his face from the way he tilted back and huge chest was in the way, fuck, another wave of slick down your cunt.

yet you try to fight back, groaning and purposely tapping the underside of the tip with your tongue, a touch you knew drove him insane, “oh you little...” he breathes, teeth clenched one more time while sliding your hair back off your eyes, “you want to play like that, doll? you got it”

there will most likely be bruises on Toji’s thighs from how hard you dig your nails on them, throat bulging and eyes swelling with tears from each harsh thrust of his length deep into your mouth, keeping you steady with both hands on the back of your head, using you like a damn fleshlight. and of course, when you think he’s calmed a little, your phone has to light up with a new text from your so undesired ex.

SUKUNA ! : choking, degradation, messy making out.

Sukuna mostly liked to fuck face to face, enjoying the lewd expressions you made with each rub of his cock into your soft walls, and when he fucked on doggy, you knew he was pissed.

“who knew my girlfriend was such a slut” his voice echoes through the walls, a deep rumbling groan getting replaced by the sound of your soft ass repeatedly smacked against his pelvis.

“’Kuna... what are you, u-ngh, saying....?”

what you thought was a make up sex, was a punishment instead.

his hand is quick to reach forward and squeeze your neck, pulling you back flush against his broad and sweaty back, “who the fuck is Satoru?” he did not need the answer, already aware of your ex’s name.

the way your eyes widened slightly was enough answer either way.

“do you enjoy texting your ex about how much of an asshole I am?” and you’re fucked. part of you extremely mad at your boyfriend scrolling through your phone, but well, you were in disadvantage currently.

“you are” his hand on your neck tightens, reducing your air flow but simultaneously making you clench around his tip.

“you’re not a saint, sweetheart”

you never said that, and force yourself to not roll your eyes, “quite the opposite, you’re a needy, horny girl, not getting enough with my cock, and now you need another? tsk, what a whore”

“u-ugh” you cough, “that’s... not true!”

“be quiet” Sukuna gruffs, tugging your head back tighter to lean closer, “and stick out your tongue” somehow that lewd command made you obey, staring at him with challenge, your eyes not fathering although he still had the upper hand.

“cheeky thing” is what he says, taking the tip of your tongue with his, messily having a tongue kiss without your lips actually touching, creating a lewd and loud sound in the room that made you dizzy, “you’ll delete his number, okay, baby?” he murmurs, a threat, “or, I will not take responsibility for what may happen” why was that hot?

you wish there was a way for you to groan or yell at him, only for your body to betray you and make your pussy gush around the cock still buried inside you.

“good girl”

SATORU ! : oral fixation, creampies, overstim.

“you won’t do that again, right, baby?” your boyfriend is so sweet and soft, tenderly rubbing two of his fingers against your tongue.

“S’tru wh’t the fuck” your words are choked, muffled by his long digits exploring every inch of your mouth.

“wrong answer” fingers stop but his free one pinches your clit hard.

“hngh!”

a hum escapes his reddish lips, getting comfortable in his current position between your legs and pussy soaking, beautifully warming his cock, “try again, baby, you just need to say you won’t cheat on me again”

“didn’t cheat” again, another muffled groan.

this time you get cut by a gag from Satoru’s fingers resuming their rubbing on your tongue, uncomfortably deep, “that’s not what I saw, babe, you betrayed my trust” his words are slightly thicker with bubbling up emotions.

“you’re exa— ugh, —ggerating”

suddenly, his eyes darken, gripping onto any edge of sanity as not to snap at the mere thought of you reducing his feelings and worries, opting instead for a more appropriate approach.

“Satoru! a-angh, no, no more!” your muffled sounds now, a few minutes later, turned into desperate pleas and cries of overstimulation, the sheets below sticky and damp with mixed fluids.

“not until, —uh fuck, you understand” completely feral is what he is, fucking you into the sheets, with load after load seeping past your stretched cunt, coating all over his length and dripping down his balls and the sheets, where the fabric sticks to your sweaty lower back utterly uncomfortably.

and considering the way your boyfriend’s cock somehow springs back to life after thick loads of semen splurted into you, you know you’re stuck for a long time.

SUGURU ! : groping , taking pictures of you mid fuck.

“this, is mine” Suguru’ voice is gruff, even more than usual, completely and utterly jealous. although your boyfriend was usually rough, his long fingers squeezing your tit and pinching your nipple in the process was much meaner than usual.

“this, is also mine” he murmurs now, sickly cooing, as if taunting and playing with you. pushing his whole body weight against your backside to forcefully make the vanity edge dig on your soft hips from where you’re bent, eyes on the mirror and Suguru’s free hand tight on your jaw.

“you’re much prettier when you’re quiet and obedient” his lips trail down your jawline, and by the way his tight grip held you steady, it’s not as if you could actually speak, “not when you’re texting your exes with stupid names... what was it again?”

“Ch-choso...” you manage to mumble through squished cheeks.

he huffs, “what a ridiculous name, love, did your pretty head forget you’re mine?” for anyone who just met Suguru, they wouldn’t have sensed the menacing tone in his voice, hidden so perfectly under fake sweet words.

“t’was not”

“hm, what was it?” Suguru’s smile widens slightly scarily, letting go off your cheeks.

you huff, rubbing the slightly sore skin, “i was not doing anything bad, it was just a dumb text” and oh, the attitude does not sit well with Suguru.

“just a text, right, of course” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing, and you gulp, “then, you wouldn’t mind me texting them too, right?” blood runs cold through your body, unsure and definitely terrified of what he would do, grabbing your phone and unlocking it while his free hand shoves under the crotch of your panties and tug it aside.

“Suguru, what are you—” words cut in a choked moan, having your boyfriend’s cock slowly pushing into your soaked cunt, eyes wide as well as your mouth.

“that’s just the expression I was looking for, baby” Suguru chuckles, knowing your body so well to the point that every hit slammed your g-spot, having you almost blissed, almost too dumb to realize the frontal camera of your phone capturing the lewd sight of your expression, “smile” he mocks again, a click, and the picture was delivered to your ex.

[klyette]

8𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍+ 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 !

# 𝜗𝜚relationships: multiple x fem ! # 𝜗𝜚contains: fem reader, smut, older men, tit playing + fondling, pussy spanking, choking, rough sex, squirting, clit rubbing + pinching, making out, pornhub themed, filming, big dick

𝜗𝜚 notes ! So each part has different kinks or smth like, tit play, clit toying, etc . ໒꒰ྀི ⸝⸝⸝ ꒱ა !

HE whispers in your ear, his big hand rubbing at your smooth skin, a camera in his other hand as he films your legs. He lifts the camera up to your lips, filming your soft lips that he adores kissing. Your breaths are heard, your chest going up and down, he moves the camera down at your tits. His calloused hand groping at your tits as you let out a whimper, the camera is still on your tits. His fingers playing with your nipples as he does it like he strums a string instrument. "Shh, you pretty thing~" He says, he kisses your breasts and fondles it before he changes the camera view.

HE points the camera at your wet sloppy cunt, his palm connecting to your wetness, he shows the camera. "Isn't she just a cutie? Already all wet, just cuz I played with her tits.." he says, his palm spanks your cunt, his finger rubs along with your slit. Your leg trembles as his finger rubs circles around your clit, his finger slightly touching your bud. "My pretty girl, aren't you?" He says, the camera filming your clit, as he toys with you. His thumb goes up to your clit, his big thumb hiding your clit behind his digit, he pushes slightly down on it, then he rubs at it. His thumb rubbing your clit as he films it, kissing and nibbling at your skin.

HE rubs your clit before sticking two of his fingers in your wetness, your juices staining his fingers as his fingers move in and out of you, his thumb still lays on your bud. His fingers do a scissor motion inside of you, your legs tremble as his fingers move faster in you. "Taking my fingers so well, aren't you just great, doll?" He says, grinning, he sticks another finger in and thrusts them into you, he slips them out of you, slurping up your juices off his fingers before he puts them back into you, he films himself coming closer to your wetness. His tongue licks at your cunt, his tongue flicking at your small bud, he smirks against your wetness. "Mmh, don't you taste amazing, atta girl~" he whispers against your cunt, moaning at your taste. Your legs shake and you cum, getting your juices on his tongue before he gets up and places the camera on the bed.

HE takes off his pants and his dick is so hard, it's standing tall and proud, his big dick twitches as pre-cum slightly comes out. "You are going to take me all, aren't you, baby?" He grabs your legs and hooks your legs under your arm, he kisses your tits before slipping his dick into you. His tip is only inside of you yet it feels big, the rest of his dick enters you, half of his dick is now into you. He slides easily, his hand grips your hips before he slams into you, groaning. The camera view is still on you, recording this sexual act between you two. "So tight, you are made for me." He says, closing his eyes as he fucks you, hitting your special spot which makes you clench around him harder. His head goes slightly back, your legs shake, and he kisses your inner thighs. Fucking you more harder, his hand goes down to your clit and his hand goes for the camera, recording his thumb rubbing your bud. His dick ramming into you, his dick aches into you, your cunt clenches around him so tight, his hand goes around your neck, choking you as he fucks you. You look up at him with tears brimming at your eyes, his hand still around your neck, your eyes roll back slightly. He pulls out, his dick pumping out his semen, coating your stomach in his whiteness, he furiously rubs at your clit, he lets go of your neck and points the camera at your wetness as you squirt. Getting your juices all over him and the bedsheet, it lands on the camera lens. "AHh!" You scream, your mouth opens and your eyes roll back to your skull. "You did so good for me, good girl~" he whispers, the video ends at the good girl.

Nanami , Toji , Alhaitham , Zhongli , Blade , Aiku , Gallagher , Chris Prince , Sanemi , Muzan + ur faves + other fandoms !

©kylette; no other claiming

[not-neverland06]

I don't know why I bite

Logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: Had Mitski’s ‘I Bet on Losing Dogs’ on a loop while writing this, now I’m sad Inspired by the isle of dogs quote “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” BECAUSE OUCH (they’re both toxic, fair warning) bittersweet ending Summary: You've tried for so long to get Logan to accept you the way he does the others. You want so desperately to be someone who means something to him. But he doesn't want you, maybe he never has. And you both seem to be stuck in this loop of hurting each other.

You’re stability, security, but you’re never comfort. Try as you might, you just can’t get Logan to accept you. You want to. So desperately, you want to be something good for him. But he hates you, or at the very least, he can’t stand you. 

You don’t know what it is about Jean that he craves, but you wish you could replicate it. You’re not your friend, though, you never will be. And it’s pathetic, trying to change yourself to make someone else happy. You’ve never done that before. Yet, there is something about Logan that you want so desperately to help. 

You clean his wounds, metaphorically because he’s never once needed anyone for that. You lift him up after a rough mission and you remind him that the team does need him. They do love him. They want him in that uniform beside them, even Scott. 

You have your suspicions that he doesn’t appreciate your efforts. He’s never outright said anything to you. But you can tell the novelty of your kindness is wearing off. He used to brush your efforts off with a simple look. 

But he’s begun to be mean, saying these little things that you can never completely call out. A lot of what he says is based in truth. “Do you ever stop talking?” No, you don’t. You like talking with your friends, like sharing stories, and laughing together. 

“Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?” Yes, and it hurt. And it continues to hurt. “Why don’t you just shut up for once?” You can’t. You can’t because if you stop talking, if you stop distracting yourself then you’ll actually feel everything. You can’t stop talking, you can’t stop taking care of others because you cannot take care of yourself. You’re incapable of it. 

You can’t say that he’s being rude or mean. He’s just being blunt, and gruff, that’s just how he is. That’s what everyone tells you. They tell you to just ignore when he’s being a dick because he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just what he does because he doesn’t know any other way. 

You shouldn’t have listened. You shouldn’t have placed so much faith in others. You should have just left him alone. Maybe then he wouldn’t have snapped, wouldn’t have said such cruel things to you. 

It broke you a little inside. Hearing what he really thought of you. Despite it all, despite the cruel words and harsh attitude, you had hope. You thought they were all right, that he just needed to warm up to you. And you so desperately just wanted to be something for him to lean on because you’ve never had that before and you know what it feels like to be so lonely. 

“Hey, Logan.” You step into the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for something to snack on. “Weren’t there apples in here?” You’re talking aloud, but it’s meant for yourself. 

It’s that moment that it all finally comes crashing down. This pathetic illusion that he wants anything to do with you or your friendship. It almost makes you laugh, that this mundane moment is when you feel your heart shatter in your chest. When you get so sick to your stomach your bones ache and your limbs tingle with this odd phantom pain. 

“Could you just shut up?” his voice is low as he leans over the counter. His fingers spin idly around the neck of a beer bottle. You wonder how he managed to sneak it in here, Charles has banned alcohol. You watch the condensation collect on the cracks of his palm and shrug the pain off. 

You’re used to this. This is normal. “Right,” you squeeze past him and look in the pantry. “Sorry,” you whisper, if you speak any louder your voice will crack and that will just make everything worse. 

“You’re just always around, aren’t you?” You glance over your shoulder at him but you don’t respond. Deny it as much as he wants, you have gotten to know him. You recognize the tells. 

He’s had a bad day, he needs a way to get it out of his system. You just happened to walk into the kitchen at the wrong time. It could be anyone he snaps at, but today it’s you. Which seems to be happening more often. 

You do what you did when you were a kid, eyes forward, face flat. You keep yourself neutral, let yourself sink into that apathetic place so whatever he yells at you doesn’t hurt. “You tiptoe around me, act like I’m this wounded stray you need to fix.” 

Your brows pinch in confusion and you shake your head. Second mistake. You shouldn’t have walked into the kitchen in the first place. And you definitely shouldn’t have argued. “No, Logan, that’s not true-”

Although, maybe he has a point. You can’t fix yourself so you try and fix him. 

“I don’t know why they keep you around. You contribute nothing, you do nothing for any of us. We can’t even take you out on the field,” his voice begins to raise and you find yourself backing into the cabinets, hating the way this is beginning to make you feel. “You’re so fucking sensitive we can’t trust that you won’t just kill us all if something goes wrong! You don’t deserve a spot on this team!”

You jump back as he shouts at you, hip jamming into the corner of the island so hard you have to bite your lip so you don’t make a noise. Spit flies from the corners of his mouth, the ferocity of his voice and words are that strong. 

You take in a few quick breaths, blinking the sting out of your eyes and focusing on the wall behind him. “Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull,” he warns, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you around. Leave me alone.”

You don’t cry, you can’t cry. You don’t speak because you’re afraid of what other cruelties that might provoke. Maybe you would understand all this if you’d been bugging him when he’d already made it clear he needed space. All you wanted was a fucking apple. 

You don’t feel much of anything as you slowly nod your head, not agreeing but appeasing. He watches you with something like surprise on his face. You don’t know that he’s wondering why you’re not saying anything back. 

It’s why he yells at you when he doesn’t know what to do. You can take it, you can put him in his place. But you’re not speaking and he doesn’t know why this time is so different. 

Finally, you turn on your heel and leave, footsteps soft as you retreat back to your room. Logan watches you go with an odd twisting feeling in his stomach. He didn’t think you could be pushed too far. You seem to always just have this endless patience. 

You treat him gently, even when the others get sick of the way he processes things. Today was hard, you just happened to be nearby. He didn’t mean half of what he said. He doesn’t know why he lashes out the way he does, he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

He doesn’t like it, contrary to what the others think. He doesn’t like hurting you or being mean to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you that provokes this side of him that no one else does. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid. He can’t say what he’s afraid of, he’s never been able to admit it to himself. 

He’s yelled at you plenty of times before. You don’t know what it is about that one day that was so different. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. You’ll set him straight or give him space. But today, it was needless. You weren’t doing anything. 

You didn’t deserve to be lashed out like that, cornered and scared in the place you call home. 

It was unprovoked and maybe it finally made you see him for what he really is. A bully. It doesn’t make sense, how he can be so kind and caring to Marie. How he can help Jean and Ororo so sweetly, but can’t muster one kind fucking word for you. 

You don’t let yourself cry, even though you want to. Even though there’s a cloying, suffocating feeling clawing its way up the back of your throat. His room is on the same hall as yours and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made you cry. 

You, at the very least, finally stop asking yourself what you did wrong. Instead, you start to wonder what’s wrong with him. You get sick to your stomach, thinking about all the ways you cared for him. Remembering how much of yourself you gave up to make him happy. 

He was right about that, you are pathetic. He never deserved your help or your patience. You should never have offered him any grace. You’re embarrassed that you didn’t see it sooner. This isn’t a little boy pulling your pigtails because he likes you. This is a grown man who can’t regulate his emotions and decided you were the next best punching bag. 

You take in a few deep, shaky breaths and close your eyes until you’re forced to fall asleep. You don’t want to think or feel any of what just happened.

Logan hovers in front of your doorway for ten minutes before he heads downstairs. He’s got a class to run, he doesn’t have time to wait for you to wake up, he reasons. He’ll find you later and apologize then. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize he had gone too far yesterday. Even if you could take his usual level of dickishness, you didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t know what to do around you. You made him confront so many different conflicting emotions. It’s like every time he looks at you his brain is being ripped in twenty different directions and he doesn’t know what to do. 

You’re so endlessly patient and gracious. It makes him realize he wants to be a better man and he can’t be. He resents you slightly for that. For having such a wonderful idea of what he could be, even though he knows he can never be that man.  

He doesn’t find you that day. He makes up enough excuses that he goes to bed promising himself he’ll apologize tomorrow. Which he never does. Because actually saying it would be an admittance that he knows what he did was wrong. And what does that make every other time he’s yelled at you? What does that make him?

It returns to the same cycle it always does. He waits a few days until things are cooled down and you’ll have already forgotten about it. He starts to feel overwhelmed and he goes to find you because you always know what to do. And if you don’t, then you provide an outlet. 

He spots the back of your head in the gardens. You’re with Jean and he expects the usual dirty look she gives him after you’ve both fought. Instead, she smiles warmly at him and waves. Which is odd, usually you tell her about what’s happened between the two of you and she holds the grudge longer than you do. 

You glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips, to see who she’s waving at. Logan sees the way it falls when you see him and his steps falter. You never do that, you always look so happy to see him. 

“Jean,” he greets curtly, eyes on you. 

She says hello and they both look to you. Normally, you would have already spoken. But you don’t, you turn your eyes to the kids. Jean frowns and turns back to him, “Everything alright, Logan?” 

He can’t take his eyes off of you. You read his moods, and know them better than he does. You should have already offered to talk. Maybe he really does need to apologize. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

He says your name and your brows just barely raise in question, though you couldn’t seem less interested. “Need to talk to you.”

You shrug, “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to.” You brush past him and walk back into the mansion. He and Jean both watch you go, each of them shocked by how dismissive you were. That’s never happened before. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Jean demands, the smile gone from her face and her tone deadly. She glares at him, clearly expecting an answer. But he doesn’t have one. Because this is something he’s done a million times and this has never happened. He doesn’t know what’s gone wrong. 

He thought your absence would be a relief. After a few more days he begins to realize that he was wrong. He thought that not having someone constantly badgering him to be better and set good examples for the kids would be a relief. 

There’s no one nagging him. No one forcibly checking on him after a mission when he doesn’t need it. No one to care. 

There are chunks of his day that you would normally fill that now seem to drag on. Lunches are quiet without you constantly rambling about nothing in his ear. When there’s friction among the team and they’re ganging up on him, you remain silent. He supposes he should be grateful. 

You finally listened to him for once. But he’s angry. He always seems to be angry and he doesn’t understand why. There is so much of his mind and life that was stolen from him. He wonders if he got any of it back if it would explain why he is the way he is. 

It doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t fix what he can’t undo. He sees you with the others constantly. You’re always laughing, always happy. Like nothing’s happened. Like you haven’t cut him out of your life completely. And then, when you’re around him, it’s like a switch is flipped. 

You’re irritatingly silent. Practically a brick wall. He pokes and he prods, using every weapon in his arsenal to try and provoke a reaction from you. But you give him nothing. 

There is an ache in his chest when he sees the way your smile drops when he walks into a room. He doesn’t understand the feeling. This is exactly what he wanted. To be left alone. 

It feels so wrong. 

It happens in the kitchen again. Odd, that that’s become such an important place to you. 

Your back is to the entrance and you’re busy slicing up some fruit for yourself. You don’t hear him come in. Not until he speaks. “I’m-” you jump at the sound of his voice. Whirling around with a shocked look on your face. 

He chuckles a little at the reaction but when you don’t smile he stops. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. It sounds semi genuine. But it also sounds like it hurt him to say. “I’m sorry, so can you please just stop ignoring me?”

You shrug and go back to cutting up the fruit. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“No?” He demands. “Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t we eat lunch together anymore? You can’t even fucking look at me.”

You slam the knife down on the cutting board, taking in a deep breath so you don’t do something you regret. Your nails dig into your palms, trying to center yourself. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted,” you utter, voice low. 

You turn just enough to make eye contact. “I’m leaving you the fuck alone. That’s what you wanted right? I don’t think I could have misheard while you were screaming it at me.” You turn to leave, abandoning your fruit because you don’t have an appetite anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispers before you can make it out of the kitchen. “I,” he stops and starts again, “I miss you. I’m not a mean person, I don’t know why I hurt you.”

You stare at him, face unflinching. You give him nothing and he knows it's what he deserves. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it-”

“Good,” you cut him off with a disgusted sneer. “Because I’m not looking to hand it out. Especially not to you. You only want me because you miss what I do for you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve me.” You turn on your heel and walk away from him, unwilling to entertain any more conversation. 

This is what you’ve always done. When someone hurts you, really irrevocably hurts you, they’re gone. They’re gone from your life. From your mind. More importantly, your heart. You don’t have any obligations to entertain him or speak with him outside of professionalism. 

You thought cutting him out of your life would hurt more. But it’s like you can breathe for the first time in months. You’re no longer striving to gain someone’s approval. You’re not chasing after something you’ll never catch. 

You can find happiness within yourself. Begin to do the things you would do for him, for you. It’s a relief. And a little sobering. Perhaps, in your mission to help him, you’d burdened him with the desires you had for yourself. 

You believe that you’re unfixable. You believe there are facets of yourself that are too dark to face. That you are undeserving of love and kindness. You recognized those things in Logan and tried to force on him what you’ve always wanted for yourself. 

It was wrong. A mutually toxic relationship that never would have made it far had anything actually happened between you two. You can’t paint yourself the victim and you never meant to. It’s why you didn’t tell anyone what happened between the two of you. 

They wonder, of course, why you no longer spend lunches together. Why you no longer rush to defend him when he doesn’t need the help. Why you don’t smile around him anymore. There are questions that you deflect. Saying, you just needed space from each other. 

Your harm was a silent one. Forcing him into a mold he was never going to fit in. Despite the claims of loneliness, you can see the way your absence benefits him. He’s calmer, less likely to yell when provoked. He just needed the space to find himself. Not to have someone try and make him something new. 

You feel an ache in your chest when you think about how differently things could have been had you just let him be. If you had let things happen between the two of you naturally then maybe you really could have been something great. 

A month goes by without speaking to each other. After that day in the kitchen, he seems to understand that there’s no putting back together what was broken. It was already cracked to start with, the break was inevitable. 

You warm slowly to him. Give him polite greetings when you see him. And he smiles at you sometimes, on the jet when Scott says something ridiculous, or just in passing. It’s nice, being a stranger to him. It’s comforting. 

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

You look up from the paperwork in front of you and give Logan a small smile. He’s hovering in the entrance to the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for your permission. “Hi,” you say softly.

He takes that as the go-ahead and walks in, heading for the fridge. You listen to him rummage around before he pulls out a beer. “Where do you hide those things?” You ask, and you almost bite your tongue. This is the most you’ve spoken to each other in a long time. It feels wrong to joke so easily. 

“Can’t tell you or Wheels is gonna stop me,” he grumbles. You just nod and turn your head back to your paperwork. It’s silent for a few minutes after that. He sits a little further down the island, nursing the beer while your pen scratches across the reports your students gave you. 

He clears his throat and you glance over at him from the corner of your eye. “I,” he starts but quickly closes his mouth. “Ah, forget it.”

Your brows pinch in confusion but you decide to leave it. You oddly don’t feel scared or anxious. You don’t worry that he’s going to snap at you if you provoke him. You choose not to because you’re not interested in engaging. 

You don’t really recognize the man before you. Maybe it’s because you never tried to get to know him before you tried changing him. It causes that familiar clenching feeling of guilt in your gut. 

You know if you gave him a chance things would be different. You could be friends, real friends. There’s a reason you latched so readily onto him. There’s a familiar pain in him that’s reflected back in you. 

You stand up, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and pushing your stool in. Logan straightens up as he watches you wash off your dishes and collect your items. Before you can make it out of the kitchen he’s standing from his chair. 

He stops in front of you, hand outstretched before him. “Logan,” he greets. 

You tilt your head in confusion, glancing between him and his hand before it finally clicks what he’s trying to do. Start over, reintroduce yourselves. Actually give each other chances to understand the other. 

This all started because you shared the same pain and you resented each other for it. But you could comfort each other instead. Be pillars of stability and strength in each other’s lives instead of trying to tear the other down so you don’t see yourself in them anymore. 

You were both too afraid to face who you truly are and it nearly destroyed you. But this is a stranger in front of you. You don’t know this man, but you think you’d like to. You give him your name and shake his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you,” you whisper, a slight joke to your tone. 

He holds on for a second longer than he should, the breath rushing out of him like he hadn’t thought you would accept. You smile softly at him before you pass by to go upstairs. His hand lingers on your, skin tingling under your touch until you can no longer hold on. 

You don’t know what it means for you, this odd new truce between the two of you. But you won’t linger on that tonight. You’ll go to bed feeling comforted that for the first time since you’ve met him, Logan has made you happy. 

a/n: felt more like a diary entry than a fic, sorry lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always ♡

[zephyrchama]

[Thoughts about an MC who gets periods]

Getting periods in the Devildom must be pretty rough. Demons probably don’t get them, and the number of humans freely wandering around has to be incredibly low. If MC takes the form of a sheep then they likely don't have to deal with it immediately, but eventually that's going to wear off and they'll revert back to a human. Does the Devildom even have pads and tampons for sale?

MC might have to sheepishly ask Barbatos if he can acquire some in bulk from the human world. Barbatos would remain professional as always when inquiring about the use of these products and their role in daily life. He'd have to report it to the prince. They're both aware of what periods are, but only in a vague "oh yeah, humans do that" kind of way. (Perhaps in the future, Lucifer could use his secret Akuzon account to order more?)

There's surely some plant or potion that prevents them, but they're not meant for long term use. Probably tastes nasty over time and covers human skin in a weird oozing rash if consumed too often.

A month or two into the exchange program, MC might have to call up Solomon for aid.

---

“Can you help me with something?”

Solomon, not too interested in MC yet, agrees just to be amicable with his fellow human exchange student. They must be scared! They must be missing humans! “Is something on your mind?”

“You know how to do magic, right?”

What a silly question. It’s almost refreshing to hear. “I do.”

“Do you know… like, uh, smell…? Reducing magic? Something to cover up smells? Without being obvious, I mean. I feel like I stink and I was really hoping you could help me figure something out.”

How cute, he thinks. He can’t quite remember the time when he smelled fully human anymore, and he can’t really smell the distinct odor on people that demons can, but he knows demons can easily sniff out a human from afar. “Oh, don’t worry about that. It should go away on its own as you spend time here.”

MC isn’t convinced. “I don’t think it will…”

“Trust me. How are you finding Devildom cuisine? I know you’re not used to it, but eating more will help you adjust. I can whip up a few simpler dishes for you to try if you need help.”

MC is silent for a bit. Solomon thinks his job is done until they say quietly, “that’s not the problem.”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure the brothers I live with can smell, uh, my cycle.” No use being coy about it, better get straight to the point. “They stare at me when I’m on my period. I think - no, I know - they can smell the blood. I’ve seen them sniff the air when I’m around. It's weird. And I can’t exactly stop it from happening every month.”

“Oh.” Now it’s Solomon’s turn to be quiet. He’s embarrassed and surprised, a little humbled, and also really interested in this problem. It’s not something he’s ever thought about before.

MC continues, “I think they can tell when I’m ovulating too, Asmo started lingering around more often, and Lucifer looked scarier than usual, and they all stare more, and-”

“I think I get it.” Solomon can’t stop his face from turning pink. Despite his usual grin, he doesn't think he’s ready to listen to the rest of MC’s sentence.

There should be an easy solution, but it’s something that warrants testing if MC doesn’t want the brothers noticing a sudden spell cast upon them. It could get mistaken for something malicious. Solomon says, “I might be able to help. Can you come over today?”

[moondirti]

can i say something crazy? cw: piss. nasty stuff

simon who has absolutely no respect for his bird's privacy.

comes back home from work; all sweaty and churlish and dour, soot caked on his face and hands, welder boots announcing his arrival in heavy, lazy footsteps. he doesn't call for you, but your gentle hey babe sounds from the bathroom anyway, half-distracted by the videos on your phone. the idea of you coddled at home since he left at dawn that morning — cushioned in bed until late, one hand in a bowl of cherries on ice that still drips condensation over your nightstand, the other pushing a new record for screen time on tiktok, the lengths of your legs all soft, bitten, exposed in set of flimsy shorts, cooled by the fan overhead, all ready evidence to why he puts up with as much shit as he does — drives him a little mad to think about. stokes a hunger in him, a mix of pride and masculinity and possessiveness that has him pushing into the room. despite the fact that his needs aren't urgent, not pressing enough to justify this.

this — standing right before you, so that your manicured toes kiss his leather soles. saying nothing as he unbuckles his belt, gruff, quiet, completely uninterested in addressing your concerns when you look up at him with those squinted eyes. it isn't above simon to make you suck him off while you're on the toilet, and really you wouldn't mind, but you get the sense that isn't what this is when he knocks your legs apart with his knees. little fuss to the action, little reaction to your spread pussy.

his cock bounces out about eye level with you. soft. nonetheless hefty and thick and large, bowing down even as he wraps a rough palm around its base. he can see the revelation find you in real time when he places his free hand on the wall behind you. the cresting arch of your brows. the grimace mangling your cheeks. the prissy pout of your lips. if he weren't so exhausted, he might have it in him to take your face right there. it's just the right combination of horror and fascination to get him going.

"simon noooo," you whine, throwing your phone somewhere, scrambling back until you can't anymore, porcelain tank pressing flush to your back. "just wait your turn. please!"

"'nuff of tha'. shush now." he huffs, chuckling a bit when he realises that you only made things worse for yourself by leaning away. your hips now jut out, cunt propped centre of the bowl.

there's no shyness, no stall on the release. his piss comes out in one, hot stream, washing right on target to hit your little clit. you shake your head, so disgusted with him he knows he'll have to make it up later. still, you do nothing to discourage it, sitting in place like a good pet, only occasionally tensing your legs against the steaming shower. some splashes on your belly, some on your thighs and the rim, yet it's never ending. you wonder if he planned this all day, held in the four cans of san pellegrino you packed for his lunch, just so he could give them back to you.

you just don't realise that not all of it is his.

"sad t'be missin' out on th' fun?" simon mocks, finally pulling away. he shakes the last of it off his cock, swiping a hand over his tip, before tucking himself back in. you blink, look down, and realise that somewhere along the lines, you started peeing too.

and have yet to stop.

"it's natural!" you wail, squeezing your pelvis floor in a last ditch attempt to save your dignity. it's no use. having started, it's near impossible to stop. your necks discovers a new type of heat in the humiliation, burn licking its way up your face. your ears tuck into your shoulder.

"yeah, yeah." he patiently waits for you to finish, cupping a hand under your elbow to keep you upright as you stand on fawn legs. his lips are paper thin, fleeting, when they press fondly to your temple. "now off to th' shower w'ya."

your nose crinkles. "you know you need one more than i do, right?"

"and wha's a shared bath?"

[recycledraccoon]

What if....

Damien and Danyal Al Ghul are twins. Danyal takes heavily after Bruce but Damien is a perfect mix of their parents, and he came out of the artificial womb first, so Damien is decided to be the heir.

Growing up in the League is hard, but Damien excels in a way that Danyal doesn't, because for all the potential Danyal has, he hates the killing and there is a rebellious streak evident even as young as they are. A rebellious streak is a...very dangerous thing to have. Grandfather won't kill Danyal, for as ruthless as he is he doesn't kill his own lineage. But that is not to say that the additional "training" Danyal goes through is merciful.

Damien and Danyal love each other, not just as brothers but also in the way partners do when they don't even have to blink to anticipate the others actions in the midst of action. Which is why Damien, not even yet six, can see the way Danyal is being broken down under the burden of their joint legacy.

So many times, in so many of the universes in which he exists, Danyal Al Ghul is or is seemingly killed, of which is the catalyst for his escape from the League of Assassins, and his brother is left behind thinking him truly dead.

In this universe, when the Demon Twins are out on a training mission (an assassination of a target so easy it's beneath the League for anything other than the simplest of first training missions) a massive earthquake occurs.

They are alive at the end, but both their communication devices are beyond repair. Damien is more roughed up than Danyal at the end, but both are dirty and bloodied.

This is an unprecedented opportunity, of which Damien knows deep down he will never get again.

He loves his brother deeply, but Danyal is weak, always hesitating before the kill, hands shaking. Damien loves his brother and fighting side by side, but he values more the quiet moments when Danyal is looking at star maps and trying to match them up with the sky above their home or making snarky comments about their trainers under his breath. (After when they can't hear Damien doesn't laugh but Danyal always knows he agrees and is amused.)

Grandfather's and Mother's additional training to bring Danyal up to Damien's level is making Danyal go quiet and emotionless and Damien is selfish.

(Damien convinces his twin brother to leave the League of Assassins.)

Damien drags himself to the rendezvous point and returns home alone, reporting the target dead and his brother lost under rock in the quake, body unable to be recovered. He is colder, furious at the world and himself. He pushes and pushes and PUSHES himself. He is the last remaining of a set and he will prove himself perfect to carry the title of Heir perfectly and without reproach. He is more loyal day by day, the guilt his selfishness and betrayal of his family a deep sting he can't ignore.

Talia does search, but so many bodies were lost or unidentified inside mass graves. She grieves and then refocuses on her remaining son without looking back. Grandfather laments the loss, but cares little for the spare in the long run.

Meanwhile, Danyal hid himself long enough to sneak onto one of many transports filled with foreign aid. He is small and sneakier than any average stowaway, and remains undetected all the way to the US.

He doesn't go to Gotham to find his father, but picks a direction at random and leaves, until eventually he's picked up and put in the system. Bouncing around until one day, not long after he turns seven, the Dr.'s Fenton and their young daughter are visiting in their search to adopt their second child. (A combination of genetics and radiation from their earliest experiments in college leaving the pair with low fertility rates and very high risks if they ever did get pregnant. The two get procedures early on and adopt Jazz when she is still fairly young, but wait until she is a bit older before adopting again.)

Danyal Al Ghul had an older twin brother.

Daniel Fenton doesn't think he could handle having an older brother again, but an older sister is acceptable.

Danyal left to go full civilian, and when Damien had sent him off decided he would carry that knowledge to his grave if he must. He tells no one, and does not even mention ever having a twin when he goes to live with their Father in Gotham. If Mother did not tell Father of the deceased son, then neither will Damien.

Danyal Al Ghul is dead, and Damien will keep it that way.

.

.

.

.

(The greatest secret is this: The two have never lost contact. It is very easy, during a natural disaster, to steal a pair of burner phones, each with one number only on them and prepaid with enough stolen funds to last years. Danny smuggles his with him in one piece, Damien smuggles his in pieces, ready to be hidden and repaired when necessary. He checks it scarcely, but every few months is enough to make sure his twin is alive. When he goes to live with Father in Gotham, they communicate a bit more frequently. This remains his most fiercely protected secret.)

[bsturnzmtt]

Can you write a fic where Matt overstimulates the reader until she has to use a safe word??

Red - M. Sturniolo

Jealous boyfriend

Paring: jealous!Matt x sub!reader

Contains/warnings: rough sex, overstimulation, usage of safe word, stomach bulge, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dacryphilia, degradation, pet names, oral, aftercare.

Summary: You and Matt go to a party, but Matt gets jealous by your choice of clothing. He takes you home to put you on your place.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Tonight you and your boyfriend Matt are going to a friends party. His brothers Nick and Chris are also going. You are currently getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, while he’s laying in bed ready, waiting for you to finish. He’s wearing a white t-shirt with some design in the middle, baggy jeans, and of course his signature rings.

“Are you ready yet?” Matt asked.

“Almost” you shout through the bathroom door.

“Okayyy, but hurry up.” He replies.

You add some finishing touches to your makeup, finish straightening your hair and add a good amount of your favorite perfume. You are wearing a tight black mini dress, black heels with red bottoms, and your normal jewelry. You take a glance at the mirror checking if everything’s perfect and exit the bathroom.

“I’m ready!” You say.

His eyes widen as you exit the bathroom, his gaze devouring you from head to toe. "You look... stunning." He says, his gaze roaming over your curves in the tight dress, lingering on the way the fabric clings to your thighs. He walks over, standing close to you as he looks at you. "But maybe a little too stunning. Isn’t that dress a little too short?”

You roll your eyes and look down at the dress. “It’s fine Matt.”

He reaches down, moving one strap of the dress up a little, his fingers trailing along the exposed skin of your shoulder as he does so. "It's fine?" He repeats, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "No, it's not fine. I don't want all those guys at the party drooling over you.” He reaches out, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “I don't want any other guy looking at what's mine."

“Come on Maaaatt, it’s not even that revealing, and I really like this dress. I think it looks good on me.” You say.

His jaw clenches at your persistence, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "You think it looks good on you?" He repeats, his voice low and husky. "You have no idea how good you look in that dress. And that's the problem. So-“ he was about to say something else but Nick interrupted him.

“Are you guys ready? We have to get going.” Nick shouts from the kitchen.

“Let’s just go, okay?” You say with a smile and give Matt a kiss on the cheek. “Yes! We’re ready.” You respond to nick.

Matt scowls at being interrupted, "Fine." He mumbles as he watches you grab your purse and head towards the door. "Hold up," he calls out, catching your wrist in a firm grip. "Not so fast. I want to make one thing clear."

“What?” You ask.

Matt's eyes narrow, his gaze intense as he looks at you. "You're mine. You're my girlfriend.” he says, his voice low and firm, his eyes locked onto yours. “You don't leave my side, you don't talk to any other guys, you don't even look at them for too long." His voice is low and authoritative, his grip on your wrist unyielding. “Got it?"

“Of course Matt” you say reassuring him and give another kiss but this time on his lips.

Matt's expression softens at your kiss, and he wraps his free arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss for a moment before slowly breaking it off. He lets out a sigh and smiles down at you. “Let’s go.”

You guys head downstairs where Chris and Nick are waiting. As you head downstairs, Matt stays close behind you, his hand resting on the small of your back. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you see Chris and Nick standing by the door, chatting and laughing. Then Chris turns and says. “Finallyyyy.”

Matt holds the door open for you as you slide into the passenger seat of the car, then walks over to the driver's side and climbs in. His brothers riding on the back seat. He starts the engine and pulls out of the driveway, soon merging onto the road that leads towards the party.

After 10 minutes, Matt pulls up to a large house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. The front yard is packed with cars, and the sound of loud music can be heard from inside the house. Matt parks the car and turns off the engine. “We’re here”

“Yess!” Chris says excited.

"Come on, let's go," Matt says, opening the car door and stepping out. He offers you his hand to help you out of the vehicle. As you take his hand, he gives it a squeeze, a silent reminder of his possessiveness. "Stick close to me, okay?"

You nod and walk into the party.

As you walk into the party, the loud music and chatter envelop you. Matt stays close, his hand still wrapped around yours. You make your way through the crowded room, nodding and smiling at people you recognize. The smell of beer and sweat hangs in the air, and the bass thumps through the floor.

Matt looks down at you, his eyes shining with intensity. His grip on your hand tightens. "I mean it, Stay close," he growls. As he says it, he pulls you a little closer to him, just a small step.

You chuckle “Yesss Matt.”

Matt's face softens, and he gives you a small, flirtatious smile. "Good," he says, his voice low and husky. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I don't want anyone else getting too close to you."

You laugh a bit at his jealousy and lean in to give him a short kiss. “Let’s dance.”

Matt's eyes flash with desire at your kiss, and he growls low in his throat. He nods, a slight smirk on his face. "Yeah, let's dance." He pulls you onto the dance floor, the two of you moving to the beat as his strong arms wrap around you.

Matt holds you close, his thigh moving against yours as you dance. The heat between you two rises uncomfortably. And every time he pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours, you can't help but melt against him.

“I’m gonna go get a drink, okay?” You say to Matt.

Matt's eyes narrow, a flicker of possessiveness sparking in them. "Alright," he says, but there's an underlying tension in his voice. "but don't be long." He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing you, watching you go with an eagle's gaze.

As you’re walking towards the bar a guy ‘accidentally’ bumps into you almost making you fall but he grabs you by the waist so you don’t fall. “I’m so sorry,” the guy says. “Uhm it’s fine don’t worry.” You say pulling his hands away.

Matt's eyes are glued to the guy who just touched you. He clenches his fists and starts making his way towards you with a menacing stride. "Is there a problem here?" he says, getting between you and the stranger.

“Matt, he accidentally bumped into me.” You explain.

Matt's gaze is still fixed on the guy, his eyes blazing with barely contained anger. "Accidentally?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. He takes another step forward, crowding the stranger. "You sure that's all it was?"

You grab Matt's arm trying to pull him away. “Matt-“

Matt's arm stiffens under your grip, but he doesn't budge. His eyes are still locked on the stranger, who's starting to look uncomfortable. "Let's go," Matt growls, he turns to look at you. "Now." His tone is low and commanding, brooking no argument.

“What? Where?” You ask confused.

Matt takes your hand, practically dragging you away from the bar. "Home," he says gruffly. "Now." His jaw is clenched, the anger and possessiveness simmering just below the surface.

“Why!? We literally just got here!” You exclaim.

Matt stops in his tracks, turning to face you with a fire in his eyes. "I don't like the way that guy was looking at you," he growls. "I don't like the way he touched you." He takes a step closer, invading your personal space.

“It was an accident.” You say.

Matt's expression turns incredulous, his nostrils flaring. "An accident? Are you kidding me? He takes another step forward, his large frame towering over you. “Why are you defending him? You like him? You liked the way he grabbed you by the waist? How he was looking at you?” his voice is low and intense.

“Wha- Matt, no!” You say.

Matt's face darkens, his eyes flashing with a mix of jealousy and anger. "Then why are you still standing here arguing with me?" He grabs your hand, his grip tight. "We're leaving. Now." His tone leaves no room for discussion, commanding you to obey his orders without question.

Matt starts walking towards the exit, practically dragging you behind him. His grip on your hand is tight and unyielding, a silent warning that he's not in the mood for any arguments. The jealousy and anger are still bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to explode at any moment.

As you stumble to keep up with Matt's long strides, he suddenly stops in front of the car, yanking open the door. "Get in," he growls, his voice still tight with anger.

“What about Chris and Nick?” You ask.

Matt's jaw tics as he grits his teeth. "They can fucking find their own way home," he snaps, his eyes blazing. He takes a step closer, his face inches from yours. "Now, get in the car, before I lose my patience completely."

You quietly get in the car.

Matt slams the door shut behind you, the sound echoing through the quiet night air. He takes a deep breath, his chest heaving, before stalking around to the driver's side and getting in.Matt starts the car, the engine purring to life. He grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. For a few moments, he just sits there, staring straight ahead. Finally, he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I told you that dress is too fucking short, too revealing. But you decided to be a little slut and stay with it, hm?”

“Matt-

Matt cuts you off, his voice low and menacing. "No, you don't get to talk back to me right now. You're lucky I'm not pulling over and bending you over the seat." He takes a hard right turn onto a secluded road, the headlights casting eerie shadows on the trees.

Matt's eyes flicker to you, his gaze burning with intensity. "You think you're so innocent, don't you? But I know what you're doing. I know you're trying to drive me crazy, to make me jealous. Well, it's working."

“I’m not, I swear.” You say.

Matt scoffs, his grip on the wheel tightening. "You expect me to believe that? After everything that's happened tonight, you expect me to believe that you weren't trying to make me jealous?" He turns towards you, his eyes meeting yours. "Fucking try again, sweetheart."

Matt's face twists in anger, his voice rising. "You want to play games with me? Fine. Let's play. But you need to understand, I always win." His hand reaches out, his fingers brushing against your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine. After a few minutes you guys arrive home.

As soon as the car stops, Matt is out the door and pulling you along behind him. He practically drags you inside the house, slamming the door shut behind you both. Once inside, he spins you around to face him, his eyes wild with a mix of anger and desire.

“Matt I-

Matt's hand comes up, silencing you as he crashes his mouth onto yours in a brutal, possessive kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming you as his, as his hands roam your body, grabbing, squeezing, marking you as his. Matt's kisses become more frantic, his hands tearing at your clothes, desperate to have you bare before him. Once your clothes are off, he scoops you up, carrying you upstairs to his bedroom and tossing you onto the bed.

Matt climbs onto the bed, crawling over to you, his eyes full of hunger. He hungrily kisses down your body, pausing at your breasts to give each nipple a hard suck, before continuing downwards to the apex of your thighs.

“Mmh” you whine.

Matt grins up at you, his eyes dark with lust as he spreads your legs wider, his fingers running along your inner thighs, teasing, toying with you before finally, he dips his head and licks at your pussy, his tongue delving deep, fucking you with it as he devours you.

“Mmhp fuck Matt” you moan at the sudden pleasure.

Matt growls in response, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh as his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit, his fingers curling inside you, stroking your inner walls, coaxing your release. "You like that, baby? You like me eating you out, making you cum on my face?"

You nod pathetically. “Mhm feels so good.” You moan.

"Fuck, you're such a dirty little slut for me," Matt growls, increasing the pace of his tongue and fingers, his mouth slurping loudly at your pussy as he fucks you harder.

“Matt I’m so close” you moan arching your back.

"Cum for me, baby," Matt urges, sucking hard on your clit while he rubs his fingers over that sensitive spot inside you, pushing you over the edge, "Fuck, that's it, cum all over my face."

You let out a loud moan as you cum hard.

Matt laps up your release greedily, his tongue swirling around your clit, prolonging your pleasure. As you come down from your high, he pulls back, his chin dripping with your arousal, and grins up at you with a possessive, satisfied look. "You taste so fucking good, baby.”

"I'm not close to done yet, baby," Matt says, climbing up your body. He takes your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You quickly melt into the kiss letting out a moan.

Matt's hands roam your body, caressing your curves as he deepens the kiss, his hardness pressing against your thigh. He breaks away, panting, and gazes into your eyes, his own burning with desire. "I need to be inside you, baby. Now."

“Mh please Matt.” You whine.

Matt positions himself between your legs, his thick cock bobbing as he lines up with your entrance. With a powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he starts to move, pounding into you with ruthless intensity.

“Fuck! Matt” you moan in pleasure and pain at him stretching you out, not letting you adjust.

"You feel that, baby? You feel how deep I am in you?" Matt pants, his hips snapping forward relentlessly, each thrust pushing you up the bed. He grips your hips hard, angling them to take him even deeper, causing your belly an outline of his dick.

“Mmhp”

Matt's breath hitches as he watches you, his eyes blazing with a fierce, possessive hunger. He leans down, capturing your lips in another bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as he pistons into you, each stroke hitting that spot inside that makes your vision blur. His hands go down to your stomach bulge pressing on it.

“Mmh Matt” you moan.

"That's right baby, take all of me. Fuck, you're so tight and wet," Matt groans, feeling the rhythm building between you.

“Matt I’m gonna cum” you whine.

"Cum for me, baby, cum all over my cock," Matt commands, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. He pinches your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts, pushing you towards the edge.

“Mmhp fuck” you moan as you cum.

Matt's cock throbs as he feels your pussy clench around him, milking him for every drop. With a guttural grunt, he buries himself deep and erupts, painting your insides with his hot seed.

You lay there with your legs already weak, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck, you liked that?” Matt says, pulling out from you.

You nod slowly.

Matt smiles, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face as he collapses beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. "Good," he whispers, his breathing still ragged. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

“What?” You ask.

Matt's eyes glint with mischief as he starts to nibble on your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I said, I'm not done with you yet," he repeats, his voice low and husky. "We're just getting started."

Matt starts to explore your body with his hands, cupping your breasts and tweaking your nipples. He then trails his fingers down your stomach, making you gasp as he gently grazes over your still sensitive mound before delving between your legs again.

“Mhh Matt” you whine as you feel your pussy getting wet again.

"Good girl," Matt praises, his fingers teasingly dancing around your pussy lips before plunging in deep, fucking you with them. "You're so fucking wet for me. You want more, don't you?"

You moan as you lean your head back. “Mhm” you nod.

"That's what I thought," Matt says, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. He adds a third finger, stretching you open as he pumps them in and out at a relentless pace.

“Ahh fuck”

"You like that?" Matt grins, leaning down to suck on your nipples, his fingers still driving into you relentlessly. "You're so fucking sexy when you lose control like this."

“Matt, I'm so close, I’m gonna cum” you moan.

Matt feels your pussy clenching around his fingers as you get closer to the edge. He sucks harder on your nipples, fucking you faster and deeper until you finally cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. "That's it, baby,"

With tears of pleasure running down your cheek you moan loudly as you cum.

Matt watches your face as you cum, feeling incredibly satisfied seeing the pleasure he's giving you. He slows down his fingers, gently milking the last of your orgasm from your sensitive pussy. "Fuck, that was hot,"

Matt grins, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his mouth, sucking your juices off them. "You taste as good as you look, baby," he growls. “I want more.” He leans down, his head in between your thighs.

Matt's tongue snakes out, licking your pussy from top to bottom, sending shivers down your spine. He focuses on your clit, sucking and licking it until you're moaning again, your body trembling with pleasure.

“Mhh Matt too much” you whine.

Matt ignores your protests and continues his relentless assault on your clit, his tongue flicking and swirling around it as he devours your pussy like a man starved. He knows just the right spots to touch, suck, and lick to drive you wild.

“Maaatt” you moan in overstimulation as you try to push his head away.

Matt doesn't stop, he continues to lick and suck your clit. He teases your entrance with his fingers, dipping them in slightly before pulling back out. He wants to push you over the edge again and make you cum even harder this time.

“Fuck Matt Mmhp” you moan in pain and pleasure arching your back.

Matt grins against your pussy, his tongue doing its magic as it swirls around your throbbing clit. His fingers finally enter you, plunging deep into your wet and aching sex, thrusting in and out in sync with his tongue on your clit.

“Matt I-“ you moan loudly as you squirt on his fingers, feeling a kind of pleasure you’ve never felt before.

"Fuck yes, squirt for me baby," Matt growls, his fingers pumping harder as you gush around him, your juices coating his hand. He sucks your clit harder, his tongue lashing against it as he drinks down every drop of your release.

“Mmhp Matt stop” you cry feeling overstimulated.

Matt doesn't stop right away, he pulls back slowly, easing you down from your high before completely pulling his fingers out of your dripping wet pussy. He licks his fingers clean, his gaze never leaving yours as he smirks. “I want you to squirt on my dick”

With tears still running down your cheeks you say “Matt I- I can’t”

"Can't or won't?" Matt challenges, his voice low and intense. He rises up, towering over you, his dominant presence filling the room. "You're going to squirt on my dick, and you're going to do it like a good girl for me,"

Matt's eyes flash with desire as he takes in your half-hearted protest. He grabs your hips, pulling you towards him as he positions himself at your entrance. "You're going to take my cock, and you're going to love every second of it," he growls, his tip teasing your still-sensitive pussy.

“Mmmmh Maaatt”

Matt slams into you with a powerful thrust, burying his thick cock deep inside your tight heat. He sets a punishing pace, driving into you over and over, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each stroke.

Your vision blurs and you moan in overstimulation.

"That's right, moan for me," Matt growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you. He leans down, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispers, "You're mine, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

“Ma- Matt mmhfp t-too much” you whine.

Matt ignores your whimpers, continuing to pound into you with reckless abandon. He reaches between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and pinching it hard, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through your oversensitized body. "You're mine, and I'll use you however I want,"

Your back arches and tears run down your face. “Ahh mmph”

Matt's eyes gleam with triumph as he feels your body begins to surrender to his unrelenting assault. He fucks you harder, faster, his cock brutalizing your pussy as he drives you towards the edge of a violent orgasm. "Yes, cum for me, baby,"

“Ma- Matt I’m going to c- cum” you moan.

Matt's face twists into a feral snarl as he feels your body tense up, your pussy muscles contracting around his cock as you reach the precipice. "Do it," he growls, his hips pounding into you with increased ferocity. "Come all over my cock, baby."

One last thrust and you squirt hard all over his dick, your body trembling.

Matt roars with triumph as he feels your pussy spasm around him, your juices gushing out in a hot, sticky torrent. He buries himself to the hilt, grinding against your cervix as he unleashes his own release, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he fills you with his seed.

Your legs still trembling from the pleasure.

Matt grins triumphantly, withdrawing his cock from your well-used pussy with a wet, squelching sound. He reaches down, kissing you. “One more. You can give me one more, yeah?”

Matt's eyes gleam with amusement at your speechless response, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw as he tilts your face up to his. "Oh, you can't even talk? That's how I know I did it right," he whispers, his voice husky with satisfaction.

Matt's gaze darkens as he takes in your flushed, disheveled appearance, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smirks, leaning in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I'm going to make you cum again, baby. And again.”

Matt's hands roam your body, his touch possessive and demanding as he turns you over onto your stomach. He positions himself behind you, his hard cock pressing against your entrance as he spreads your legs wide. "Get ready, because this time, I'm going to fuck you raw,"

Matt slams into you without warning, his thick cock driving deep into your pussy with a brutal force that steals your breath. He sets a punishing pace, his hips slapping against your ass with each rough thrust as he takes you with unbridled aggression.

You let out a scream. “Ahh Matt mmh too much stop.”

Matt's eyes flash, his grip on your hips tightening until it's almost painful. "You think that's too much?" he growls, pulling out before slamming back into you with a force that makes you cry out.

Matt's thrusts become more desperate, his cock throbbing deep inside of you as he claims you over and over again. "I could fuck you like this for hours,"

”s-stoop” you cry.

Matt's face contorts with a mix of lust and possessiveness as he hears your pleas. He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit and pinching it roughly. His hips still pounding into you with relentless intensity.

Feeling too much pain and overstimulation you scream out the safe word. “Red! Red”

Matt's movements freeze immediately at the sound of your safe word. He withdraws from you, his cock slipping out with a wet sound. His breathing is ragged as he turns to face you, concern etched on his features. "Fuck, baby, I'm sorry. I got carried away.

Upon seeing you're still in pain, Matt quickly moves to gather you in his arms, holding you close as he kisses your forehead softly. "I'll make it up to you, I promise," he whispers, genuinely remorseful. "I didn't mean to hurt you, love.”

“It’s fine Matt, don't worry, i- it was just too much” you say and hug him back.

Matt's arms tighten around you as he holds you close, his chin resting on top of your head. "I should have been more mindful. You're always my priority, and I fucked that up," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "Let me take care of you, okay?"

Matt carefully pulls back and looks at you, his thumb gently brushing aside a stray tear from your cheek. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," he offers softly as he helps you out of bed and leads you towards the bathroom.

In the bathroom, Matt starts the shower for you and checks the water temperature to ensure it's comfortable. He then helps you into the shower, making sure you're steady on your feet before joining you under the warm spray.

You chuckle at his sweet actions. “Thank you Matt. I'm fine by the way.” You reassure him.

A small, genuine smile tugs at the corners of Matt's mouth at your reassurance. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you back against his naked chest as the water cascades over you both. "I know you are, baby, but I still need to make sure," he says, his deep voice filled with affection. "You mean everything to me." he replies, his voice gentle as he reaches for the soap and begins to lather it on your skin.

You smile at his words and give him a kiss on the cheek.

Matt's eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, clearly pleased by the gentle kiss. He turns his head, catching your lips in a soft, tender kiss. The soap slips from his fingers, forgotten, as he focuses on the gentle moment between you. "I love you,"

“I love you more” you say.

Matt's smile widens, and he deepens the kiss, his lips moving slowly and sweetly against yours. As you break apart for a breath, he whispers, "Impossible. I love you infinitely." He pauses, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with adoration.

You giggle into the kiss.

After a few minutes he washes the soap off you and grabs a towel and puts it over you.

Matt wraps the towel around your warm, damp body and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, cradling you against his chest. "Let's get you dried off and into something comfortable," he says, his voice still gentle from your shared moment in the shower.

Matt carries you out of the bathroom and into your bedroom, setting you down on the edge of the bed. He quickly retrieves a soft t-shirt and sweatpants from your dresser and helps you into them, making sure you're snug and cozy before letting the towel fall to the floor. "There, all better?"

“Yes! Thank you” you hug him and give him a soft kiss.

Matt hugs you back, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he returns the kiss with equal tenderness. He holds you close for a moment, enjoying the warmth and comfort of your embrace. "Anytime, love," he murmurs against your lips before pulling back slightly to gaze at you with a warm smile.

“Let’s go to bed, I'm tired.” You say yawning.

"Bed it is," Matt agrees, his voice low and soothing. He helps guide you under the covers, making sure you're nestled in comfortably before climbing in himself. Once settled, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. He grabs his phone and chuckles. “Two unread messages from Nick”

You chuckle “what do they say?”

“‘Wow thanks for telling us you went home’ ‘we are taking an Uber’ that was ten minutes ago” Matt chuckles as he reads the texts.

“Ten minutes ago?” You ask.

“Yeah, they’ll be here anytime soon. Why?” Matt asks.

“Matt! My clothes are still downstairs!” You say.

Matt was about to speak but he heard noise downstairs, the front door opening and some voices.

“Shit” you both say.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

TY TY FOR 900 FOLLOWERS ❤️🫶🏻😩

This is a little bit rushed but I hope you guys like it

—————————————————————————————————————

Taglist: @xaristhings @blahbel668 @bernardsbendystraws @sturnzsblog @deffonotjae @suyqa @mattsturniololover1 @mattsturniolosgf @mattsturnihoe @annsx03 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @strnzzvsp @l34n @mattsfavbitchhh @chr1sgirl4life @yourenogoodforme @mattshighway @lauren-222 @slvtformatts @megamorgan44 @mattsturnswife

[anantaru]

・✶ ｡ synopsis — fucking your enemy doesn't really sound like a good plan or wait, maybe it does! <3

warnings — enemies to lovers, fingering, playful childe, fem! reader

childe always approaches you with that damn smirk on his face, his gaze intense and unwavering, a sprinkle of confidence playing on his lips.

the harbinger had always been your enemy, the embodiment of danger and excitement, and despite the many battles the both of you had fought, you couldn't lie to yourself but admit that there was an undeniable pull between you— a connection you refused to acknowledge, even to yourself at times.

"ah, you fought well today," childe's was barely out of breath as he throws his hands up in the air to feign defeat, his voice low and husky, a dangerous edge to his tone, "but you're not as strong as you think you are, heh."

without batting your lashes, you glare back at him with your body tense of anger, every single nerve inside on edge, "—and you're still as arrogant as ever, childe."

fuck, how much he adored it whenever you showed him a little of your sweet temper, it's a little salty too but he doesn't mind that— in fact, it gets him going and arouses something deep below.

naturally his smirk widens the moment you say it, his eyes darkening with something far more primal that he'd originally let on, "me? arrogant? oh am i? or am i just confident?"

you roll your eyes and before you could even find a good enough response, he instantly closes the distance between you in a swift stride— without haste, folding your spirit in half with his presence becoming overwhelming.

in an attempt to turn around and leave his hand grabs towards your arm, gripping your wrist with a surprising gentleness that was never experienced before by you, yet with the strength you've known far too well, one that left no room for escape.

"you think you can hide it from me? i can see it in your eyes, you know," he murmurs underneath his heightened breathing, slanting towards your face closer and closer until you could feel his warm breath against your ear, "the way you look at me, you see? the way your body reacts when I'm near like that— ugh, you're so shy, but I know you've been dreaming about this, as have i, or haven’t you?"

your heart races at the absurdity in his sentence— or was there even a sprinkle of a lie inside of it? how long until you cannot run from the feelings you harbored for him anymore? or was it simply lust that kept the drive inside of yourself working.

a mixture of fear yet also excitement floods your senses— you really wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the truth was, his words struck a deep chord within you, you're doomed and yes, in fact, you had dreams about him— of feeling him inside you, feeling his cock twitch and thicken while he's grinding himself in you, fucking your tight cunt as the fantasies of surrendering to the raw, forbidden desire consumed you.

you knew he must be good in bed, amazing even, there was no chance in hell that he wasn't with that striking personality of his.

"cut the crap childe, i don't know what you're talking about," you stammer back, but my dear, don't you hear? your voice betrayed you just this second, right in front of his eyes as you began to tremble with the weight of your secret longing dying to be set free.

"oh? but i think you do," he whispers before saying your name so sensually that it felt like someone's set your body on fire.

the man continues as his lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck;

"you've wanted this for so long, right? this—"

and before you could muster a response, his mouth claims yours in a searing kiss that made your brain rewire, the touch of his lips strong and ruthless as one hand slid up to cup the back of your head, holding you firmly in place.

you weren't surprised by how childe kissed you, in fact, you imagined how it felt like— granted, it was better than you originally fantasized.

the kiss was rough, as if he was looking for an answer, and it shattered the last bit of your very resistance as you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body igniting with a fire you had tried so hard to suppress— yet, was it actually bad that you went against your own beliefs? just this once?

of course, you both were on different sides, supporting different agendas but this— fuck, this, it felt so good, why was the darkness childe expelled so mesmerizing? like biting into a poised apple and still relishing in getting tainted?

the harbingers hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming, as if he had every right to do this and his touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine before he pushed you against the cold stone wall, the contrast between the cool surface and his heated skin only heightening your needful senses.

although before going further, he abruptly stopped the kiss, at last lapping across your bottom lip and seeking your gaze, "tell me you want this, i need this," he growls against your lips, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising energy, "tell me you've dreamed of this moment too."

you close your eyes and take a deep breath, a shaky whimper escaping your lips as you felt the grip on you tighten. each one of his touch, his breath hitting your skin and his words played into your beating heart and you couldn't, you just weren't able to stop your body from liking this.

your back arches a little as to show him without words, without needing to admit it— right now, you weren't sure if you could ever say it out loud.

like snowfall, his touch was cold, but it felt oddly comforting.

but you let him move forward as one hand slips beneath your clothes, finding your wetness between your thighs, your folds messed up and puffy for him. "childe i— i... i want this too," you admit against your own volition, the words tumbling out before you could even stop them, "i’ve dreamed of you, childe, maybe..."

you got him now— or, does he have you wrapped around his finger instead? regardless, his eyes blaze with a glistening triumph hanging over his irises as he captures your lips again.

he begins slowly, his fingers working around your hole with expert precision, circling your entrance and collecting your slick with such precision which you originally only knew of his ways of fighting as he coaxes out every inch of your pleasure.

you're writhing and hiding your moans into his chest, the volume of your whimpers growing when he pokes one finger in.

with a growl, he rips your shirt aside to expose your breasts, the fabric tearing in his haste— and before you knew it, his own jacket followed as you helped discard them quickly.

"look at me," he commands, "feel how i touch you there," as his voice resembles a rough whisper.,"i want to see the look in your eyes when i touch and touch you,"

you obeyed, meeting his gaze, your breath hitching as he thrusts one finger into you with a single, powerful flick forward.

the sensation was immediately overwhelming, not due to the fact that he was beginning to stimulate your hole with fast thrusts of his digit fucking in and out of you but the sole thought of childe doing it was the final nail in the coffin.

your heart was beginning to hurt from riding his fingers, furiously rattling against your ribcage as you threw out the last amount of dignity you had inside your body, becoming one with the movements of his hand before starting to seek it.

his wet tongue drags from your neck towards your collar bones before reaching your nipples, immediately taking one in his mouth as the heel of his hand began to press into your clit painfully hard, the feeling only multiplying when you shoved yourself into it more, better and deeper, until your body flashes you with a heat you cannot escape.

one more finger, more, and each pump turned rougher and moredemanding with the pace of his hand being relentless, cruel as you almost climaxed by just looking at him— how his wet lips left a trail of saliva on your slicked chest and ugh, that delirious glimmer in his eyes. 

childe truly likes the feeling of you clenching around his knuckles, he might become addicted to it, and he believes he'd actually die a happy man if he'd be able to feel you squeeze around his thick cock like that.

but you have to do it just like that, with your pussy drooling over his desperately and touch depraved, so he could taste you right after, yeah? have you all around his tongue.

he's not sure if he can even fit inside, ah, how excited he gets when he imagines your eyes glow and turn all big and pretty when he lets you see him from below his clothes— he knows for a fact he will make it fit.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[koenigami]

not sure if you allow it, but how does wriothesly react when the reader uses their safe word during an intense session?

tags : fem!reader, smut, crying, use of safeword, aftercare, comfort, +18

It's hot in the room, the constant gurgling of the pipes reminding you that WRIOTHESLEY must have turned up the heating higher than usual. Then why is your body shivering, with goosebumps all over your skin? You can't see him, can't hear him because he has barely talked to you ever since he's returned from his office. Yet you feel his large, intimidating form loom over your body from behind. You can't speak, can barely breathe with his constricting hand around your throat that somehow seems to get tighter by every passing second.

He's immune to your whimpers, to the tears rolling down your cheeks. With each forceful thrust of his, you hear the bed creak and feel your knees get weaker, your body loosing strength until you're nothing but a limp toy for him. You want to get up, push him away, but the grip his other hand has on your wrists while holding them behind your back- He's just too strong.

That's when even the last ounce of pleasure leaves your body and you're left with nothing but dread and panic. "Red, p-please." you barely recognise your own voice, hoarse and frightened. "No more, please, red."

The pressure on your windpipes is gone instantly. You realise it, not by the oxygen that is easier entering your airways, no, because you still feel like you're suffocating. You realise it because his warmth is as well gone in an instant. W-Where did he go?

Rough hands are all over your body, yet they treat you with so much care, helping you turn and lie on your back, soothing down your thighs. One of them at last settles on your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing it and wiping the tears away. "Y/n? Sweetheart, you with me?"

You sniffle and press the heels of your palms against your eyes, your chest shaking with more sobs that won't stop racking your body. "I'm sorry, 'm so sorry. I-I don't even know-"

"No, no, don't apologise. There's nothing to be sorry for." Your brain still feels foggy as you finally look over at Wriothesley who's crouching beside the bed, giving you enough space to breathe yet still having his hands all over you, not wanting to let you go. Nonetheless, you're able to notice the tension in his posture, in his facial expressions. "Just try to relax, alright? You're okay now." his hand shifts to your hair, fingers combing through the messy strands until they settle on your scalp, soothingly massaging you there. "You did good. It was too much, wasn't it?"

"Couldn't breathe." you whisper and realise that you feel so small in his presence, but not in an inferior way. Wriothesley may look all brutish and intimidating with a strength that could crush any allegedly impenetrable door in the fortress, but you're well aware that he would never use that strength against people that he cares about. "And, uhm-"

Piercing blue eyes watch as you nervously fiddle with the blanket that he has covered you with. But the little peck he gives you on your shoulder tells you that he wants to let you have a breather and take as much time as you need to sort your thoughts. "You seemed a-angry. You were so quiet and, I don't know. It was..."

"Scary?" he finishes for you, a gentle and reassuring smile plastered on his face that alleviates the pressure on your chest.

"Yeah."

Silence invades the bedroom for a short moment, making you forget that you're miles beneath the water surface, that the room which you share with him belongs to a prison, that a few moments prior your body has been in a fight-or-flight mode. The silence reminds you that you're safe and that all of this, all of him, is home. "Will you come back to bed? And hold me?"

Wriothesley's eyes soften at your request and the timid sound of your voice. "Of course, my love." His knees pop when he eventually gets up, pressing a fleeting kiss on your temple before he picks his pants up from the floor and puts them on. Despite the previous events, you can't help but feel a light heat creep up your neck when you get a sight of his naked buttocks.

"Careful with those wandering eyes. I might think you want to continue where we left off." Wriothesley chuckles when you pull the blanket over your head, a futile attempt to hide your embarrassed expression.

"Come here." the mattress dips beside you and you let him tug the blanket off your head. The warmth and smell of his make you sigh in contentment once he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. "I'm the one who should apologise. I was not aware of how much I was hurting you."

The teasing smirk and brief leisurely attitude are gone, replaced by a seriousness that you usually only get to see when he's handling work related matters. He kisses your face again and again, further silent apologies that he hopes will lessen the pain inside your chest. And his. "I was a little irritated, yes, but that had nothing to do with you. Some inmates got their hands on a few bottles of wine." he explains. "Those drunkards started spewing lots of nonsense when I confronted them about it."

What did they say?" you inquire quietly, your eyes slowly but surely feeling heavier. With a palm against his naked chest, you notice the rapid heartbeat but decide to not give it any mind, since Wriothesley's tender strokes along your back are truly not making it easy for you to stay awake and think straight.

He stops his movements for a short moment, clenching and unclenching his fist as his eyes trail over the red, irritated skin of his knuckles.

"Your grace has turned quite soft." "Your little mouse must be doing a great job in bed, huh?" "Why don't you lend her to us? I'm sure we could teach her a thing or two?"

"Nothing you should worry your head about." his voice is merely a whisper as his lips move against your forehead before he buries his nose in your hair and resumes to trace more soothing shapes on your lower back.

a/n : thank you for your patience, dear anon! hope you'll see this since your request has been sitting for a while in my inbox-